#feedback truly makes my day <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zyafics · 2 months

Text

stay the night | rafe cameron (18+)

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: when rafe cameron sees you as just a fuck buddy, you embody the role and remind him what that means.

warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, jealousy, dominance play, oral receiving (f + m), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, praise kink, a little bit of fluff at the end

word count: 5.5k

zya's notes: i originally had this planned for my “brother’s rival” series but it didn’t fit so here u go

dedication: thank u @xorafe for beta-reading and ur feedbacks, u truly are a real one <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous.

You two aren't a couple. You are nothing more than casual fuck buddies that are conveniently located within proximity of one another when one of you need to blow off some steam or get off. The feeling is completely mutual.

However, you've been exclusive.

It's unspoken, of course. No one is willing to admit that they don't want the other to be sleeping with other people and you settled on that ambiguity.

You thought it could mean something more.

You thought wrong.

The other day, after fooling around, you laid in his bed, wearing nothing, and asked if you could stay the night. As part of your undefined relationship, you don't do sleepovers. Rafe doesn't do sleepovers. However, he was the one who was calling you after midnight. He was the one who wanted you to sneak out of your house, where your parents placed a curfew. If you go home now, you would be caught dead in the act and get into trouble. It would be easier to save yourself and stay over.

"No." Rafe declared, not letting the suggestion linger for more than a second. You lifted yourself from the bed by propping your elbows against his mattress, staring at the man who's searching for his throwaway clothes on the floor and redressed himself. "We don't do sleepovers. I don't want to be caught with a Pogue."

"Rafe." You said with a hint of annoyance. He saw you naked, but he was afraid of being seen with you in public? "It's fucking four in the morning. My parents are going to see me."

He scoffed. "Not my problem."

"So what? You don't care if I get in trouble?"

He shrugged, pulling his shirt over his chest. "You're just a fuck."

You said nothing. You just stared at him. He quickly gets dressed and finds your clothes around his floor, throwing them on the bed for you to take. With a huff, you pull yourself from the comforts and put them on.

"I'll call you." He said as you walked out of his bedroom, but you didn't answer him. All you did was flip him off and make your way out.

The next morning, you got in trouble with your parents regarding your absence. But, you said nothing, taking the lecture they gave you and headed to your room.

And you thought, if he sees me as a quick fuck, fine. I'll be just that.

The next Kook party, you were there. You always attended Kook parties, despite being a Pogue, simply because the alcohol is all free and it tasted better. No more cheap beer on The Boneyard, but you had to admit—the music was better.

Kooks can't play for shit.

This party happened to be on Tanneyhill, the mansion where Rafe lived. You haven't seen him since the last time you hooked up, and it's been the longest you've gone without seeing each other. Sure, he called you but you let it go to voicemails and all his texts were left on read. You know, without a doubt, Rafe would be looking for you and attempting to pull you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out.

But you didn't care.

(Maybe just a little).

After dancing for a while, grinding against random strangers and making conversations with some friends of yours, you settled into a seat next to a Kook. He introduced himself as Ethan, and you chat with him as you drink from your cup, making small talk about what you're doing this summer.

He seemed interested enough. His eyes shamelessly glance down at your top, which practically shows off your tits, and floats back to your lips a couple of times. You knew if you wanted to, he would've follow you to a bedroom and fuck you.

But you didn't.

You laughed at his jokes. You told some of your own.

All while having an nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You know exactly who.

And Rafe Cameron is fuming.

He noticed you when you first walked in, in a top that shows off too much and a skirt that covers practically nothing. You walked into Tanneyhill as if you owned the place, despite being a Pogue, and that's one of the things that irritates him about you.

But it also made him attracted to you.

Your confidence. Your demeanor. You never backed down when Rafe tries to put you in your place and you never let him gain control without a fight. He likes that you make him work for it; there's a thrill in the chase. Because he knows, at the end of the day, it's his bed that you ended up in. It's his cock that you're sucking.

But, at this moment, he isn't so sure. Instead of being in his arms, talking to him, you were talking to some random fucking guy who attended Kook Academy and is making you laugh.

You didn't even bother to tell him you were coming.

Rafe thought he could hold it in until he got you alone.

But that was before the guy put his hand on your upper thigh and you let him.

It takes mere seconds for Rafe to cross the yard, and when he comes behind you, it surprises you at how silent he was. "Get your hands off my fucking girl," he snapped at Ethan and before Ethan got the chance to back off, Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you off the chair, taking you inside of Tanneyhill.

You let him drag you for a few moments. The booze in your system is making your reaction sluggish, but when the realization dawns on you, you finally pull away when you reach in front of his bedroom, hidden in a dark hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He scoffs at your words. "What am I doing?" He repeats. You nod. He jabs an accusing finger in your direction. "What the fuck are you doing?"

You lift the cup to your lips. "I'm drinking."

His eyes are livid. "With that guy?" He gestures outside where Ethan is, jealousy pouring from his words and he sounds like he's using every inch of restraint he has to hold everything together. You shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but you are. When you don't answer him, feigning a bored expression, Rafe gets more frustrated. He doesn't like that you aren't reacting. He doesn't like it at all. "What's your fucking problem?"

You lift your shoulders in a casual shrug, pressing the red solo cup against your lips and says, "thought I was just another fuck."

He knows you were throwing his words back at him. He knows that this is some fucking test that you're doing to drive him bad. He also knows it's working, so much so that he knocks the cup out of your hands, causing the content to spill all over his marble floor. "Fuck you."

You scoff, unfazed by his aggression. "You already did." You say, and while Rafe is silently raging underneath, you decide to take it a step further. Closing in the distance until you're right in front of his face, you smirk, "and you fucking loved it."

Rafe is breathing hard, his blue eyes searching your face, his chest raising and falling in rapid beats as frustration rolls off of him, all while you tip your head to the side, raising your brow, challenging him to respond.

He does.

By slamming his lips against yours.

One of his hands catches the back of your neck as he presses a bruising and punishing kiss against your lips, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. Instinctively, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"You're mine." He breathes against your lips when you break apart, trailing kisses down the column of your neck as you tip your head back to give him more access, feeling his mouth working against your skin. "And no fucking asshole from the Academy is going to take you away from me."

Wanting to tease him further, you say. "What if I leave?"

He answers you by sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to arch into him and let out an involuntary moan as his free hand descends down to your short skirt and roughly palms your ass. Rafe chuckles against your skin, satisfied by your body's reaction to him. "Then no one is going to make you feel like I do."

His hands move to pull down your top, causing your tits to spill out of the fabric. The cold air pricks at your exposed skin and Rafe takes a beat of a second to admire you before lifting his gaze to meet you in an easy, cocky grin.

"So ready for me," he teases, moving his hand up to play with your hardened nipples between his fingers. You let out a small sigh. "God, you're fucking gorgeous."

"Shut up," you say, not liking how his words are making your cheeks flush with heat and a flutter of butterflies to swarm your stomach. This is just a fuck, you remind yourself. He lifts his blue eyes to meet you for a brief second before descending his mouth down to cover one of your nipples.

You always like playing with yourself there. As his tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly graze against the bud, causing your moan to echo across the hallway and his hand immediately slaps over your mouth, silencing them.

Rafe's eyes lock with yours. "You don't want anyone to hear what a needy girl you are, do you?"

You clench your jaw underneath his hand, at his dominance, but when you don't answer fast enough, he asks again. "Do you?"

You shake your head and he pulls himself off of you, the cold invades the absence of his heat. But, Rafe doesn't leave you for long. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his bedroom. The moment the door slams close, his lips return on yours and his hands explore over your exposed body.

Your core clenches as Rafe slams you against the back of the door, kissing you hungrily as he lowers his hand to the cutoff of your skirt and pushes the flimsy material up to your hips before cupping your pussy.

"God, you're dripping," he says with a small laugh, looking up to you. "Are you this wet for me, baby?"

You are. Rafe Cameron has a way to make your entire body responsive to him, his touch, his kisses, his everything. But, you don't want to let him know that. You don't know how much you want it, how much you need it.

Instead of answering him, you say with a roughness to your voice, "if you don't fuck me, Cameron, I'll find someone else who will."

Humor leaves his face and his expression hardens. He cups your cunt hard, causing you to involuntary jolt forward into his hand and a small whimper to escape you. "This is mine. No other fucking man is going to touch this but me."

"Big words for someone who hasn't made me come."

His eyes darken and, with your taunting and teasing getting to him, he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a rough finger inside of your pussy, causing you to wince at the abrupt motion. "Can you handle it?"

You nod with closed eyes, feeling as he adds a second finger, thrusting in a steady but rough pace, his other hand fondling with your tits.

You lean back against the door with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from his rhythm. Rafe knows your body, he knows you're about to come, and as your moans get more erratic and you grind harder into his hand, he quickens his thrusts. Leaning into you, he says to your ear, "let it out, baby."

You do.

Your walls clench around his fingers tightly as you ride on your high, so much so that you hear his muttered fuck under his breath. When you're slowly coming down from your climax, Rafe removes his hand. The loss of his touch causes you to frown but before you get the chance to open your eyes and complain, he pushes the wet digits against the entrance of your lips. "Suck."

You want to argue back, about him telling you what to do, but you can't seem to help but listen. Your eyes open and find his face, watching you as you suck his fingers clean of your arousal. "Good girl."

When he withdraws his fingers, clarity dawns on you. He's wearing too much while you're practically exposed. You didn't like how uneven the playing field is, and with a gesture to his shirt and pants, you demand. "Take it off."

His smirk is smug. "Eager, aren't we?"

"If I have to be naked, so do you."

"You aren't naked." He gestures back to you and you look down at yourself. While your tits are showing and your panties are soak, he's right, you technically aren't naked. Not afraid of backing down from a challenge, you easily pull your tiny top over your shoulders and push your skirt and panties down to your ankles.

Stepping out of them, you look back to see Rafe admiring your naked body. You can see the outline of his erection straining against his pants, and for a moment, a self-consciousness creeps up on you and you blush. With a hard swallow, you point to him. "Your turn."

The corner of his lips quirks up at how demanding you are and he pulls his shirt over his body, revealing the defined and taunt muscles of his chest underneath. Your mouth waters. You watch as he goes for his belt—knowing you’re watching—that he teases it out slowly. He messes with the buckle, taking his sweet time, that you grow impatient.

"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath, approaching him and pushing his hands out of the way, sinking to your knees as you unbuckle the belt with ease—practices from all the other times. When you pull it out of his pants, you stop, looking up to Rafe.

"Go on, princess." He gestures, a cocky grin at the sight of you on your knees for him. "Finish what you started."

You hate how much power he has over you this time, how he is telling you what to do, but because of how needy you are, how much you want him between your legs and his cock to be in you, you listen. You unzip and pull down his pants, revealing an impressed bulge underneath his briefs. With one easy tug, you freed his cock and it stood in front of you, hard and leaking with pre-cum.

On your knees, you look up to see Rafe watching you, waiting to see what you do. His eyes are hungry and his arousal is obvious. Tentatively, you wrap your hand around the thick cock, your fingers barely connecting together because of his girth.

And slowly, you rub up and down his shaft.

A hiss leaves the back of Rafe's throat and satisfaction pools in your core at the realization that you are making him feel this way, that you have this much control. "Faster." He commands, his voice thick with desire.

Instead of listening to his orders, you open your mouth and take his cock in your mouth, swallowing the salty taste as you swirl your tongue at his head. Added with the motion of your hand playing with his balls, and rubbing him up and down, Rafe can’t help but rock his hips against your face.

“Fuck,” he swears, his hand finds your hair and pulls your closer to him, as your grip around him gets firmer and you hollow your cheeks, creating a stronger suction. Rafe groans under your touch, tugging the root of your strands, wanting you to do anything and everything to build him closer to his climax. “Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

With that pride of information, you slow down, your fingers loosen their pace and you pop the cock out of your mouth. Rafe feels the instant loss of touch and he looks down at you, his expression hard and angry.

"What the fuck?"

"Say please."

He says your name in a command, but you don't budge.

Rafe's blue eyes are hard. He knows you do this. He knows you like to mess with him, take back control whenever you find yourself in a small position of power and remind him of his place. Irritation builds in his chest, this time worse than the others, but so does his delayed climax. He needs it more.

With a reluctant sigh, he says, "please."

You return your motion, moving in slow, torturous strokes as your hand moves up and down his slick length, creating enough pleasure for him to feel but not enough friction to ease into his climax. Your mouth has yet to return on his cock and without the added assistance, his jaw tense and his frustration and horniness builds.

In a desperate plea, Rafe begs, "baby, please."

His voice didn't sound like his own and his words are so rough, so willing, that you can't help but alleviate him from his misery. You reconnect your lips on his tip and begin to rub his faster, firmer, sucking him harder. With the edge of delay, Rafe comes fast with a guttural groan, spilling in your mouth as you lap over the taste, swallowing all of it.

Rafe lowers himself and guides you back to your feet, pulling you towards the bed and pushing you flat against the mattress, laying on your back.

He lowers himself off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he steps in front of your exposed pussy, and looks up to see the self-satisfied smirk on your face at the little stunt you pulled back there. In a low voice, he says, "you're going to regret that."

A finger drags up your slit, in a slow motion, gathering your wetness on the digit but producing enough pressure that it makes you whine. You try to grind yourself against his hand but he lays his palm on the flat of your stomach, holding you in place.

When his eyes connect with your needy gaze, he says, “my turn.”

Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses your inner thighs in slow, agonizing touches. It produces an aching feel to your core as he gives careful attention to both of your thighs, slowly creeping up to your throbbing cunt, but not quite giving you a release.

Rafe lingers on a particular sensitive spot near your pussy, sucking and kissing the placement until you're writhing in pleasure and frustration, desperate to feel his tongue in you.

"Rafe," you say with a throaty beg and he grins against your skin.

"I said you're going to regret it."

"Yeah, and if you take any longer, I'm going to go downstairs to find Ethan."

Rafe hates it when you mention other men, or even think of other men, especially when he’s fucking you, but it does the trick as he moves between you and his fingers spread your folds. “You are this wet for me, baby, not Ethan,” he reminds you, before lowering himself to your pussy, flattening his tongue against your center before moving up and down in slow strokes.

“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your sensitive clit and sucks on the nub, the sound of wetness fills the bedroom as the low volume of the music thumps from downstairs. He lets one finger enter your cunt, beginning at a slow pace. “Rafe, ohmygod.”

He moves faster, rougher, lapping out your taste as if he was dying of thirst. With his finger quickening and his tongue working a miracle on you, another orgasm builds.

“I’m close,” you whisper and he nods. He moves with precision and god, Rafe Cameron is good at eating pussy. When his tongue enters into you and the pad of his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit, you can’t help but arch into his pleasure and come on his face.

You fall against the mattress with a heavy breath, but Rafe doesn’t stop. He continues to suck and lap and rub, causing you to wrap your thighs tightly around his head. You’re already so exhausted, so sensitive, coming down from your high, but that does nothing to satiate the man between your legs—fingers and tongue buried inside of you, still hungry.

Your thighs violently shake and your fingers rack through his hair, pulling, “ohmygod, ohmygod,” you moan as he works another orgasm from you, your stomach tightening and the pressure being so unbearable you feel as if you’re going to cave and explode.

“Come for me, baby, I want another one.” He mumbles against your cunt, the low hum of his voice vibrates through your body in a pleasurable sensation. With a rougher pace and a harder suction around your clit, you come for a second time in a row.

You’re an absolute wreck when he pulls away and, assessing the damage he caused, Rafe chuckles at the sight before him. You splay out on the mattress, breathing heavily with low lids and the prettiest pussy. He lowers himself, placing both hands on either side of your head to carry his weight, he plants a soft kiss on your lips.

His eyes set on you, a gentle gaze, and whispers. “Can you take another, baby?”

Though you are weak from all the orgasms you endured, you still nod, looping your arms around his neck as he descends closer to you, planting kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the edge of your jawline. You can feel his erection grazing at your entrance, waiting to enter, and the thought itself ignites another round of passion and need within you.

Rafe pulls back just enough to line his cock against your wet folds. Before he enters, he looks up to you, waiting for a confirmation sign. When you nod, he slowly pushes the length into your aching core and you jerk forward.

He goes in slow at first, allowing your walls to adjust to his size because, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it still takes a moment for your pussy to register that this is him. That this is his pussy. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You, with what little strength you have left, push yourself up as he rocks against your hips, beginning his thrusts. You get closer to him, grabbing his shoulders, while he takes the opportunity to play with your tits.

This new position allows him to enter deeper inside of you, hitting a new angle, causing you to let out a cry from the explosion of pleasure. In addition to the remnants of the orgasms you had a few moments prior, as Rafe pounds into your very sensitive core, you begin to feel as if you’re seeing stars.

Rafe leans down, closer to your ear as he asks, "who's fucking you?"

You feel your stomach knot and tighten, knowing he’s getting you close. But, you also can feel his cock twitching inside your walls, alerting you that he’s also getting close. With this dynamic power, you turn your head to face Rafe, connecting your heavy-lid eyes with his.

“Ethan.”

Rafe stills. His eyes darken at your words, watching the way your lips curl with an innocent look and he decided he hates it. He hates this little power play you're doing to him, he hates how it's working. He knows that you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, but without the reassurance that you are his—fully, devotedly his—he doesn't know if you haven't fucked another guy before. If you haven't had Ethan's name on your lips.

His hand lowers between the two of you, lightly grazing against your sensitive clit. You jolt into his touch. "Did you fuck him?"

His voice is low, dangerously low, as you watch how serious he turned with the tease of another man's name. You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. "And if I did?"

He pinches your clit and your hips arch forward, but he uses his other hand to grab it still. Your core throbbing while he remains inside of you and does nothing. You realize, in this moment, that you might've gone too far. You feel full and have everything in your possession to make you reach your highest peak but you chose to delay it with a joke that wasn't even that funny.

Especially not now.

Rafe slowly rubs your clit with his fingers, painfully light, teasing and punishing you all in one. You gasp into his touch, but he doesn't let you move. His grip remains firm on your hips, holding you in place as you ache around his cock, as he can feel your walls clench around him, begging to be fucked.

But he needs to hear you say it.

"Rafe," you choke, and his eyes connect with yours. Your eyes are teary, your breathing is erratic, and you are trying desperately to produce some friction between your legs and give you some semblance of pleasure. "Rafe, move."

"No, princess," he says with a deadly calm, shaking his head. "You want to play mind games with me all night, fine. But tonight, I'm going to fucking hear you say my name." He repeats himself with aggression, his fingers skims across your sensitive nub. "Who. Is. Fucking. You?"

You grip his shoulders, your eyes meeting his, and your core aches painfully. You try to grind yourself against him, trying to produce some friction of your own, but he uses both hands to grab your hips, stilling you in place with a deadly grip you are sure is going to leave a mark.

He shakes his head, firm on getting the answer out of you.

With teary eyes, you beg. "Please, Rafe. Please."

He grins with that self-satisfying charm. He loves it when you finally break your dominance. He loves it more when he can break you.

His thrust begins at a slow rate, still on the edge of punishment, but at least you can feel some friction producing between your legs. You look down at his cock entering and leaving your cunt, the image gratifying, but Rafe roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look back up.

"Look at me." He commands, his voice shallow as the slow thrust is killing him, but he needed to teach you a lesson. "I want you to remember this when you're looking at anyone else. Talking to any other fucking guy. Remember how I make you feel."

You nod frantically. Desperate at this point to say anything to get Rafe to move faster, harder, providing you with your climax. He sees it in your eyes, how he finally got you, that it makes him smile.

"God, look at you," he chuckles. "You want me to fuck you so bad."

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" He asks again, the proposition is too nice to tease out.

You nod, blinking through the tears. "Anything."

He grins at this exchange of power, when he holds all of it, that he finally relents and quickens his pace. You grip harder on his shoulders as Rafe thrusts into you, rocking his hips against yours.

You claw and moan against his skin, using it as an anchor for all the pain and pleasure ripping through you, and he takes it as a mark of honor. When he lowers one hand between the two of you, using the pad of his thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you see stars float in your vision.

"I'm coming," you pant against his skin. "God, please, I'm coming."

Rafe's hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, and nods. "Come for me, baby."

When you feel your orgasm hit its all-time high, you slump in exhaustion against his shoulders, while he continues to move in and out of you. It takes a few seconds later before Rafe comes, feeling his hot cum leaking out of you.

He doesn’t remove his cock from your pussy and honestly, you don’t want him to. You want to stay like this for a moment, to catch your breath and come to the dawning realization that this is the best sex of your life. You didn’t want it to end.

Rafe lays his chin on your small shoulder, pushing your wet hair to the side as he recovers.

“Be my girl.” He whispers, so quiet, that you thought you imagined it. You weakly pull back, connecting your widened eyes with his.

"What?"

"Be my girl," he repeats once more, his blue eyes vulnerable and tracing your features to see if there's any hint of rejection on the bay. "I can't fucking stand you with other guys. I don't even want you to say their names. I want you. All of you."

You hesitate. "Rafe..."

"You said you'll do anything." He reminds you.

"You said you don't want to be seen with a Pogue."

He growls. "Fuck what I said," he snaps with a shake of his head, raising his hand to wipe the leftover tears from your face. "I want you. I don’t care about anything else. Just say yes."

You look at him and soften your gaze. You have wanted this, you admit, you wanted him to confess to you that he wants you as much as you want him. But, for a moment, in this brief second, you’re afraid that if you agree you would submit to everything you’ve fought against. The control you tried so hard to retain.

He sees it. He knows you’re having an internal battle. Using his hand, he cups the side of your face, the heat and comfort of his palm makes you instinctively lean into him. “Please.” He begs softly, giving you one last shred of power.

With a small chuckle of your own, you finally nod. "Okay."

He grins, and without hesitation, presses another kiss against your lips. This time, it lacks the power and control you two have been fighting for all night but rather is sweet, sensitive and patient. He pushes you back against the mattress, using his arms to hold up his weight.

When he pulls apart, both of you are out of breath and breathing heavily. He offers you a genuine smile, at how proud he is that you’re his, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub across your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You blush, waiting to pull away from his touch but Rafe knows you. He grabs a hold of your face, holding you in place so you can’t tear your gaze from him. “I’m serious. Since you’re my girlfriend now, you have to get used to that or else people are going to assume I don’t compliment you enough.”

You scoff. “You don’t. The only times you say nice things to me is when you’re in me.”

“Yeah?” He challenges, cocking one of his brows. You nod. “That’s going to change. Prepare for me to shower you with compliments every time I see you,” he says, as he lowers himself and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “Especially when I’m in you.”

You roll your eyes, pushing him off as your eyes find the clock in the back of the wall. You didn’t realize how late it was.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. Rafe turns to you, his brows knit together in confusion.

"What?"

"It's almost one am. I promised my parents I was going to go home at eleven."

He glances at the clock, before returning his gaze back to you. "Stay the night."

"What?"

"You said it would save you trouble, right?" You hesitantly nod. "Just stay the night."

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe how much he’s willing to give in now that you’re finally his. Maybe you should’ve made him jealous a long time ago. Your first instinct is to tease him about it, but you decide that you had enough power play. The both of you deserve some rest and plus, sleeping with Rafe would be a comforting feel after the sex you just had.

When he comes to approach you, settling between your legs as he waits for an answer, you run your hands through his messy blond locks. “Okay.”

3K notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 20 days

Text

NOW OR NEVER

PAIRING: spider-man!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

SYNOPSIS: going around the city with your massive poster which said, ‘Choke me, Spider-Man!’ was something you did for fun, not knowing that your dream might actually come true.

WC: 1.4k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! this one was requested by my anonnie and i’ve also posted this as a mark fic before! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped ever so perfect around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who unfortunately got stuck inside the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused laugh, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster frantically when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you attention of any sort, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic.

He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, you could feel his fang like canines biting down on your bottom lip, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to tie them, making sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window, leaving you dazed.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

@jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo @kyurizeu @haechan-nahceah @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian @bunhoons @luvswonyoung @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia @haanigurl

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added!

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen imagines

2K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 10 months

Text

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

tag list <3

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @tilltheendofthelinepal9950 @val-writesstuff @t-t-hello @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @myloveniall @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @floralwsloki @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @alesabisou @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @pedropascalsleftfoot @cremebruleequeen @ladifreakingda @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @evan-peters-wife @llamazarecoolaf @ace-27749 @hinata7346

7K notes · View notes

vettelsbees · 4 months

Text

whatever it takes

charles leclerc x redbullracingadmin!reader

fic type: social media au

summary: charles is dating the redbull racing admin which is why there’s a sudden uptick of charles content…but it’s proving to be a hit for engagement so they're just kinda allowed to continue

note: welcome to my second-ever smau. i am still learning kinda how to do these, so my formatting might change as i figure out what works best for me. this one is pretty different format-wise than the last and I'll probably end up somewhere between. and, of course, any constructive feedback is welcome! the next one i have planned (a charles x piastri!reader introduced via arthur) might need a bit of texting so if anyone has recommendations for how to make fake texts - let me know!

disclaimer(s): I try to keep it mostly gender-neutral but I do picture a girl when writing and my pinterest selections tend to be fem coded so it isn't truly gender neutral just be warned. also, i am borrowing content from (obviously) the redbull racing insta and from public instagrams. these are real things redbull posts haha. also i think there is swearing.

---

@//redbullracing has posted a Reel to Instagram

@//redbullracing Some classic Maxplaining and Leclerifying

view all comments

@//lecfosi everyone is charles fan

@//dutchlion8 stop i thought this was a fan account not rbr

---

@//yourusername has posted on Instagram

@//yourusername day job makes me sleepy

view all comments

@//bestie_estie pop off with the soft launch

@//landogirlz is this one of the f1 workers?? where are the drivers?

@//zhouscloset it's their personal but okay

---

@//redbullracing has posted on Instagram

@//redbullracing We are racing in Las Vegas!

view all comments

@//patofan how is charles half of these he's not a redbull driver

@//snowmansandesteban loving the charles content

---

@//yourusername has posted on Instagram

@//yourusername just explorin'

view all comments

@//lovefrombrasil Now this has become a proper soft launch

@//maxverstappen1 Hm

@//yukipopsoff this is who we think is the rbr admin @//ln4theresties

---

@//yourusername has posted on Instagram

@//yourusername it's kinda hard to protect the feed AND soft launch

view all comments

@//artiesparty then hard launch

@//georgerushing scream, sobbing, foaming at the mouth

---

@//yourusername has posted on Instagram

@//yourusername nowhere i'd rather be <3

view all comments

@//ferrariroses FREE RBR ADMIN, THEYRE DOWN TOO BAD

@//whiteandsilverarrows this looks like a certain monégasque...

@//elpadrenando someone ask arthur about it

---

@//redbullracing has posted on Instagram

tagged: maxverstappen1, schecoperez

@//redbullracing Looking back through our festive wardrobe

view all comments

@//charleswife16 girl where is charles

@//yukigasly boo bring back sharl

@//rockytherb19 Great team!

---

@//yourusername has posted on Instagram

tagged: charles_leclerc

@//yourusername saved him for the priv account this time

view all comments

@//yukigasly THERE HE IS

@//sharllechair god...it's me again

@//tripodgasly girl me too. i can't believe they confirmed it

@//alpharedbull no one tell christian

---

hehe the end

#f1 smau #f1 social media au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smau #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x rbr admin!reader

1K notes · View notes

dollwrites · 6 months

Text

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), human!fem!reader, dumbification, fellatio, mindbreak, two dick!sukuna, making out with sukuna’s belly mouth hehehe, degradation, multiple cock worship, true form!sukuna, mentions of flirting with death, smothering, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day seventeen [ ryomen sukuna + dumbification ]

“My, I think I’ve truly broken you now.”

his voice was thunderous; and surrounded you— engulfed you in vibratory baritones that would’ve melted any thoughts you might’ve had— had your brain still harbored the capacity to produce any. the autonomous luxury of thinking for yourself had long been fucked out of you, and you were left with muscle memory. base instinct.

“You act just like an animal now, a bitch who’s always in heat.” the grin the curse wore was evident, even though you couldn’t see his face. he was proud to have destroyed who you had been, and created a living, breathing sex toy in your place. both, massive cocks obstruct your view as their weight lays across your face, and you drag your lips, parted and drooling, over every ridgid vein. you could suffocate under their heat, Sukuna’s raw musk, and the idea alone excited you. “Yip for me, wild bitch.”

your eyes roll back in your head, and you mewl for him, gurgling against his skin. even his insults had become intoxicating. he could make you cum by telling you how worthless you were, and how little you mattered outside of draining his balls, and your cunt would tremble and weep for him all the same. you let out a pathetic, half bark, kissing your way down to his heavy balls, smashing your face into them, smothering yourself in his stench. the smell of sweat and cum that clings to the rough hair and salty skin.

“That’s a good girl,” with a hand heavy on your head, he pushes your face deeper, allowing you an inch closer to asphyxiation. your feet slip out from under your butt, kicking slowly, “You’ve been fucked so dumb, haven’t you? Stupid girl, you can’t even feel that you’re about to suffocate between my legs. Do you even care anymore?” he purrs, the crimson in his gaze wild and looking down at you with impish delight, “Look up at your master, fuck meat. Watch me smile as you teeter on the edge of death.”

your legs are the only things that try and protest your smothering— sliding against the gritty ground, but your arms hang, hopelessly at your sides. and though you choke and garble against his gnads, you can bring no oxygen into your lungs, your eyes start to water as they flicker up the length of his mighty torso at him. the mouth that splits his stomach is grinning wider than the one on his countenance, baring sharp teeth.

“Your glassy eyes trying to focus on me while you struggle for breath makes my cocks hard.” he chuckles, smearing your face against the dual bases, a growl rumbling as you choke on him, “To think that you’d been the brightest, young thing your village had to offer me, and now not a single thought lives behind those dazed eyes. I’m afraid I’ve turned you braindead.” he chuckles, and it sounds like unfiltered malice. “You’re not even alive anymore, not truly. You rely on my cocks to live now, don’t you?” his fingernails dig into your scalp, prying you from his groin, and you sputter and choke on the influx of oxygen that burns your deflated lungs. your mouth slack, tongue hanging out, and drool leaks from the tip of it, but all you can taste is his musk. the scent of him that he’s bedaubed your countenance in. “You’re not living if I’m not inside that fragile, little body, gaping your greedy holes. Am I wrong?”

but you shake your head, hanging limp in his grasp, before he laughs and releases you; your face smears against his abdomen, meeting the mouth there, and the lips part to allow the fat tongue to slither out. you, too, push your tongue closer, and the curse’s muscle dominates your smaller, weaker one, coiling around it, before filling your entire cavern with its girth. the imposing length of it ensures that he can taste the inside of your throat when he pushes you flush against his belly, your cheeks scraping the harsh, sharpened teeth. you’re half convinced that he could probe all the way through you with that wicked, thick tongue of his, but he’s simply being merciful by forcing you to gag and cluck as it bulges against your windpipe.

“You worship every inch of me, and take me in every hole like you’re the bravest little whore. But in reality, I know the truth.” he grins, bestial and depraved, and runs his thick, calloused fingers through your hair, leaning back to watch your mouth and gullet decimated by yet another organ of his. “You’re just too stupid to care if you choke to death on my tongue, and too greedy to mind the sensation of my big cocks tearing your ass apart.”

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

2K notes · View notes

moonastro · 3 months

Text

mini message from your fs

pick a picture

left to right(top)-> 1,2,3

left to right(bottom)-> 4,5,6

*this took me quite a bit of time to write and i would appreciate the support that you give me, please enjoy this post as much as i enjoyed making it!*

°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!

pile 1-

"hi, i haven't done this before so please understand me☺️. i have been focusing on myself lately and kind off forgot about the people around me. i tend to do that sometimes. right now i may not be in the right physical mentality to be in a relationship but i always seem to think about you- literally, even if i don't mean to. please understand that our time together will come one day and there is no rush at all, after all the saying goes, 'good things come to those who wait.' when the time comes i am sure to have healed and be in the right mental space in order to take extra good care of you. i feel like you think about me also, you may even feel strong emotions when thinking of me but hold on just a little longer, i promise our time will come."

aww this person seems to be focusing on themselves at this time and it is important for them to do so. i think that they have went through a heartbreak and they are taking time off from any committed relationships as of now, they may be isolating themselves more than usual and that's just because they are regaining their mentality and energy.

pile 2-

"um, this is a bit awkward, not you but me, i tend to have awkwardness crawling next to me at all times. sorry, for the babbling, i have actually gotten a new job, a job that i have never had any experience in so that's really what I'm focusing on at the moment. it's a job that requires me to be independent and not rely on anyone else which i am very grateful for. this is actually a great time to remind myself to say this to you as i feel like i am quite distant with you sometimes. i dream about you...like a lot. it truly awakens something in me, passion, lust perhaps?? i actually don't know the feeling, its so unique that i only feel it when i see you in my dreams. i secretly want to feel that feeling all the time so i purposely sleep a lot just to see you. i need to pick myself up and sort my life out, I'm in a bit of a mess right now but that's just life you know?? i hope to someday release the feeling that i crave every night and i hope that day is near!"

wow, i feel like this person has strong feelings towards you, you may be connected spiritually and communicate regularly in the higher dimensions. they seem to be learning how to routinise their life and their life seems very busy and tiring. i feel like you guys will meet very soon as both are heading in the right direction.

pile 3-

"hey! oh how i need you in my life. every day i feel like a puzzle piece walking around longing for my other half, i feel very empty. not in a bad way of course, its just i know we are meant to be together and I'm a bit impatient at this point. how long is this going to take?? i guess i have been avoiding meditating and practising my wellness and that's why i have been battling with my thoughts 24/7. thinking of you makes me feel very powerful and secure. when you appear in my mind you clear every last of my bad thoughts, thank you for that!! maybe i can thank you soon? please tell me you are on your way to me? please. please. please... don't make me wait any longer. i do escape my reality, i tend to leave my house and sneak through the window to walk at night. i feel like that calms me? do you prefer night over the daytime too?? i feel like you do, oh we already have one thing in common imagine how many other thousands of things we relate to. i cant wait to talk to you, i really cant."

your person is rather impatient!! like really impatient. but i feel like they need the nurture from someone and they may be lacking that as well. they sound like they are struggling with their thoughts and overthink a lot, especially about the bad things. they are constantly trying to figure out what may be the problem, they may be new to this lifestyle and they are constantly trying to flee their problem instead of confronting them.

pile 4- 18+

"i feel you. i breathe you. i crave you. if you think i don't know you, oh no no i literally think of you all the fricken time. thinking of you makes me cxm. i cant wait to be intimate with you, i don't care if we don't know each other in real life, i want you! you make me want to touch myself, but how can i perform the act without you??? i sometimes think that I'm going insane but deep down i know that you are here with me. i really hope you are prepared for me baby. just a heads up, i may be out of control when things get too intimate if you know what i mean. but i am trying to control that because the last thing i want is to hurt you. i will worship you like a god, i will kneel down and worship you right in front of you, that's how much you mean to me. I'm not a committed relations typa person, i am waiting for you and saving myself for the fun that we will have."

pheww, wowwww wow wow, your person is very sexual. they sound like someone who connects with someone through being intimate and they are waiting for you to do so, sooo don't be surprised if there is crying and lots of raw emotions being released when you two perform the act. this will be very sacred for them, and you will be their art and world and basically their everything.

pile 5-

"hi lovely, just popping in to tell you that i am on my way to you. please don't be afraid, it is time for us to finally become one. i am finally ready!! aren't you excited? because i am so excited. every day i am getting closer and closer to meeting you and that makes me feel like a noodle- absolutely WEAKK. your presence is so strong darling, you wont need to be so strong when i appear in your life. we will grow together and i feel like you learned enough life lessons and that why this is possible in the first place. we have completed our lessons. i am so so proud of us. i am ready to finally settle down and commit to you. you are like the sun and i am the plant, leaning towards the sun, please keep shining my dear! we will make this work, together!!!!"

aw such a sweet message, your person is definitely such a cutie. they are definitely ready for marriage and to have a stable relationship. i do however think that they may speak a different language or are from a different country as i feel like there will be some set backs to your communication, but as your person said, you will make it work!

pile 6-

"hi, i have been daydreaming quite a lot...maybe about you. but that's really not important.. perhaps it is, i have been exploring new ways of expressing my emotions, been practising quite a bit. i think that i miss out on many opportunities because of my daydreaming but that's how i connect with you!! there i said it, do people really want me to break the only connection that we have together? are people that cruel? they just don't understand! music is my go to, i speak to you through music so please listen to music more. i have some things to learn and unfold but please don't worry about me! i don't want you to stress over me, i know you have your own set of problems so please don't add more to your list. can i tell you a secret? i am on a difficult path right now and its all my fault! we cant be together as soon as we would of want all because of my stupidity! but you are the star in this connection so i have my whole trust in you. please wait for me. can you promise me that?"

so your person really blames themselves a lot. it is not their fault at all, it is just that they need to learn more lessons than an average person. they feel hopeless and lost at this time so their energy is all over the place. they do lose their ability to focus as they are distracted by the tempting things in life and that sets them back.

that is it for this post!!

wow, i really enjoyed doing this reading, i had a lot of fun writing this, some messages were so cute and others steamy lol. but i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i did!!

747 notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 8 months

Text

Invisible Thread- two.

This is the second and final part of Invisible Thread. Here is the link to part one.

pairing: minho x reader. pre-established relationship. reader has she/her pronouns.

genre: fluff and domesticity. angst. healing. characters trying to become better. humans being humans.

cw: parent death. grief. talk about death. allusion to sex but no smut. suggestive at one tiny part but it's for the plot.

summary: In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.

word count: 17k

a.n: this is, i hope, a gentle reminder to always be kind to yourself, and to the people surrounding you. this one is pretty personal because i see myself a lot in yn, but it was also challenging since i wrote about things i have never experienced either. so i hope you'll enjoy reading, and that the second part will live up to your expectations. it took me a long time to write this but it's okay!! English isn't my first language and this was also a reminder to be patient with myself. thank you. i love you all. truly. feedback is highly appreciated, as always <3

(here is a Spotify playlist i made for this second part, you can listen to it while reading if you'd like :))

Love. How lucky yet cursed we are to ever experience it.

The fear attached to this singular emotion seems ridiculous. Because we aren't afraid of experiencing anger, sadness, or nervousness. They might overwhelm us, but we accept them, we recognize them as they are and then we cope with them. Whichever way we know best.

But when love comes knocking on our door, we stray away from it, we try to shape it into something else- much gentler on the soul, less devastating if it were ever not reciprocated.

So, we name it a crush, attachment, infatuation; anything but the cursed four-lettered word- anything but love. As though merely acknowledging it would morph it into a sharp-edged sword, eternally wedged within us, making our blood dribble away slowly and with it, our souls awash.

You are no exception. Love has terrified you for the better part of your life. There was a time when the word did slip easily from your mouth, back when you were a child and your view of the world was still naive, undisturbed by what you now know. You loved ice cream, you loved candy, you loved your teacher who braided your hair.

But then the once light word grew heavy on your tongue. Because love is what made you crave your mother's warmth, only to find coldness awaiting you. It is love that made you seek shelter elsewhere, in the fleeting opinions of the people surrounding you, hanging your entire worth on the words they uttered about you- ones they forgot within hours but you carried for years.

But this view of yours got dismantled, slowly, day by day. You’ve come to learn that it isn't love that had hurt you, it was rather the lack of it.

It cannot be love that wound when it is the emotion swimming in your eyes, whenever they rest on Minho. You didn't dare say it to him, to name the feeling out loud. You were petrified that if it was ever out in the open, then the love would materialize into something tangible, and the universe would snatch it away, as it has done before with everything you've ever wanted.

But although you didn't say it, you felt it, deep within each one of your atoms. It spilled from you like infinite ink, rewriting your entire relationship with love, dismissing every wrong notion you've once established about it.

Love cannot hurt because you love Minho, and you'd hurt yourself before ever hurting him.

But maybe none of you would have to hurt. Maybe for once, you'd both be okay. That's what you'd like to believe as Minho's shoulders brush against yours. You are sitting at your usual table at Limbo, a gray cat sprawled on top of your laps. Finals ended three weeks ago. Summer break is here, the one time you've been dreading since you came to college. Because everyone is going back to their homes, but you don't have one to head back to.

"What will you do this summer?" Minho suddenly asks, putting down his iced americano. You scratch the cat's ears beside you gently- Lilia you've decided to name her. "I don't really have plans."

"Would you like to go camping?"

"With you?"

"I mean, unless you have another secret boyfriend, then yes, with me."

"Shut up," you giggle, swatting his arm playfully. "I'd really like that," you smile softly at him, to which he nods. "Oh, and we still need to celebrate your win this term."

"Mm. Let's just call it a date this time," he grins, taking a spoonful of the salted caramel cheesecake and bringing it to your mouth. "I need to go visit my family for a few days, and then we can go," he adds.

Sudden guilt floods your being. He had a family he could go to. It was selfish for you to want him to stay, to strip him from this privilege you weren't granted with.

"I don't want you to cut your time short with them for me," you mumble, eyes fixated on Lilia soundly dozing off on his lap. It still astonished you how all animals seemed at ease in Minho's presence. As if they could sense his gentle soul, carefully hidden behind his sarcastic retorts, and cheeky smiles- one you were lucky enough to have been touched with.

"I'm not. I just really wanna go camping," he says nonchalantly, but his hand raises to squeeze your shoulder lightly.

"You should go with them."

"I have a two-person tent in mind, it won't fit the three of us. And I want to come back to you."

His words painted a sweet picture- of him returning home after a long journey, and you were that haven he sought to rest. The idea that he'd discover such solace in you when you struggled to find it within yourself, seemed unfathomable to you.

So, you bite your lower lip slightly, before squeezing his knee in gratitude. "Okay. I'll be waiting."

✹✹✹

Blue and orange flames surge higher under the wind. You watch, mesmerized as their light dances upon Minho's skin, painting him with glistening, golden hues. Every feature of his face is chiseled to perfection, as if a sculptor spent hours perfecting his face, down to the tiniest detail. He looked in his element here, setting up your tent and grilling the meat and now looking up at the sky, a chilled lemonade in his hand. You should go camping more often.

Minho places his empty can of cola on the ground, before tapping his lap. "Come here," he smiles and you oblige, rising from your chair and settling on his thighs. You tuck your knees to your chest, curling yourself entirely in his hold. His arms encircle your body, making sure you don't slip down. You close your eyes, as Minho gazes up at the night sky before you. You are comfortable and safe. It is that safety that you've craved for so long. To be held and not fear the threat of a knife behind your back.

It still surprised you, how you came to crave Minho's presence. But it went beyond just being near him; you felt as if you needed to touch him, as if verifying his existence, ensuring he wasn't an ephemeral specter slipping through your fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. Yet, even more surprising was Minho's own yearning for you. His hands were always drawn to you, subtly grazing your face, resting on your palm, skimming your shoulders. Each tentative touch filled an echoing void within you, slowly diminishing it until all that remained were faint whispers of it.

Minho has cared for you, long before he understood you. He saw snippets and fragments of you, and he cared for the patched-up version he made up in his mind. And when you unlocked your heart for him, he only cherished it even more, silently molding his behavior so he wouldn't cross any of your boundaries.

He was hesitant at first, in holding your hands and kissing your lips. He still asks for permission, in that gentle voice of his, to touch you, in case you’re uncomfortable. Which you aren’t, because his hands on you are infused with care, fingertips dripping with unguarded attention and softness, for you.

You sigh contently, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck as his arms tighten around you. Comfortable and safe.

"What's your favorite word?" he suddenly inquires and you giggle slightly. He often asks you these random questions, as though he wished to understand you in the most ordinary of ways and to care for you in each.

"I think it's the word soft. Whoever thought of the word really nailed it. Nothing else could have depicted softness like this one."

"The word does sound really pillowy, and gentle."

"See, I really love gentle too! Why is the word gentle so gentle? Does that make sense?" Laughter tings your question as he grins, his nose brushing lightly against yours.

"It does. They both remind me of you, actually."

"Really?"

"Mm. You're still so soft and gentle, despite it all... If they ever tell me there is one kind person left on this earth, I'd come looking for you."

Sudden tears flood your eyes as a shaky exhale leaves your lips. It felt rewarding, in a sense, to have someone acknowledge the strength it takes to be kind, in a world that had dealt you nothing but harshness.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"Sometimes..." you pause, racking your brain for the best way to word this. "Sometimes it scares me how much I've come to care for you. How you make opening up not sound as daunting as before."

You grab his hand into yours, fidgeting with his fingers. The familiarity of their touch helps you calm down. "I'm not saying you'll hurt me. I just... I can't help this tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me to be cautious. It's gotten quieter, but it's still there."

"That's just your past selves trying to protect you," he smiles softly at you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "When I told you I'll be here, for as long as you'll have me, I meant it. Doubts and all."

"But I don't want to be closed off anymore," you admit. "It's very lonely that way."

"I know it is, love. But it's what you knew best back then, hm? You shouldn't feel bad about it, you did what you had to do to protect yourself. I'm just here to protect you too now."

"You think I can no longer do it myself?" you tease, your hand threading through his silky hair.

"Of course, you still can. But two shields are better than one. Also, this is exactly why I work out."

"Will your muscles protect me from my mind?" you giggle and he nods proudly. "Have you seen these?" he flexes his arms, before snorting, a bit shyly, eyes squinting closed. He's saying nonsense to make you laugh, and it's warming your heart beyond belief.

"I think these should just stay wrapped around me," you grin, guiding his arms around your back once again.

"No complaints," he smiles, as you settle against his chest. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and you close your eyes. Safe and comfortable- Minho.

✹✹✹

Summer has been kind to you. Or maybe it was you who has been kind to summer, your laughter filling its air until it could do nothing but mirror your happiness.

Summer tasted like love with Minho by your side. In clementines he peeled for you, feeding you each slice with a soft smile on his face. In spontaneous bike rides at six am, to chase sunrises you've never witnessed before him. In numerous books he bought so you’d read them to him, his head on your lap, a tranquil expression coloring his face. And although the months have all been sweet, there are two days that you remember particularly.

You don't mark up the time with dates, but rather with the new feelings Minho bestowed upon you- the first time you wanted someone to stay, and they did.

"Baby?" Minho’s hand brushes against your shoulder and you startle, turning around to look at him. "Are you okay? You zoned out."

"I’m fine," the rehearsed lie slips from your mouth, long before you could think about it. A ping of guilt swarms your heart, you’ve promised yourself that you’d tell Minho about your true feelings, even if he couldn’t help you with them.

"Are you sure? You haven’t said a word since I came over..." He quickly glances at his watch, "Three hours ago."

"I’m sorry," you mumble, your thoughts swarming your head once again. You felt horrible for wasting his time. He had better things to do than sit with you in silence.

"I’m not asking you to apologize," he says cautiously as if he’s aware he’s threading along a dangerous line. You stay silent and he shuts his eyes closed, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I just want you to be honest."

"I am."

"Are you, really?"

"What do you want from me?" you ask a bit breathlessly. You don’t know what you are saying, but you can sense your walls building up, higher than you could ever reach them.

"You’re clearly not fine and I-"

"I am trying, okay? I’m trying, please." You plead; you’re unsure for what exactly. For him to stop prodding, because you don’t have answers for him, not yet. Not when you haven’t understood it yourself.

"I'm going for a walk," he says, abruptly standing. You stay frozen in your place, as he quickly slips his shoes on, before leaving your apartment. You’re trying and it isn’t enough for him.

You don’t move from your place as time slowly trickles by. The seconds morph into minutes and suddenly it’s been an hour and a half since Minho left. There is a tantalizing fear making you stay put as if you ever dare to move a limb, then the stillness would be shattered and Minho wouldn’t come back.

It’s hard to reroute your brain entirely- old habits creep up on you swiftly, and suddenly you’re pulled back into the old you, woven into the web of horrible thoughts stitching all around you. Change feels sweet, with Minho, it feels like hope and the taste of a new beginning, but it is scary and different. And the familiarity of what you were before him calls your name from time to time. It was horrible and lonely, but there were no surprises in it. You knew what to expect at all times.

You could’ve told him that you weren’t feeling good, that you didn’t feel like talking and Minho would’ve understood. Because this isn’t the first time this happened, and it happens to him too sometimes. So, he understands, more than anyone you know. But instead, you lied and denied and Minho left. And you can’t blame it on anyone but yourself.

You grab your phone, its sudden light burning your eyes. You blink repeatedly, as you dial Minho’s number. It rings and it rings, then it goes to voicemail. You try again, through blurry vision. It doesn’t even ring this time- straight to voicemail.

Minho’s left. He’s had enough. You can’t blame him.

Three swift knocks resound loudly on your door. You don’t remember reaching the doorknob, your body’s moving on autopilot, but you pull it open. Minho. Your hold on the handle tightens until your knuckles turn white. You can’t look at him, you don’t want to see his face as he leaves you.

"Why are you crying?" he whispers, dainty fingers gently wiping away your tears.

"Don’t go. Not you too," you manage to utter, and you hear Minho suck in a deep breath, before pulling you tightly to his chest.

"What are you talking about?" he says, as he buries your head in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of his cologne washes over you- you’ve memorized its earthy notes by heart now, easily recognizable between a thousand smells.

"You've been away for two hours and I called and you- you didn’t pick up. I thought you wouldn’t come back."

"My phone died while I was outside and I lost track of time, and- please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry." He leans away, cupping your cheek delicately. "Im here, you see? Let’s go on a walk, hm?"

"You were just out," you mumble and he smiles at you. "I wanna go with you."

Minho takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. He leads you outside, still clad in the bunny slippers he randomly bought you a week ago. His hand is warm in yours. His hand wouldn’t be warm if he was leaving you.

You walk in silence to the park near your home, and Minho sits you down on an empty bench. Your tears are dried up by now, cheeks cold from the night breeze; and his hand is still in yours.

"Chan didn’t leave our dorm for three days." He starts, clearing his throat. "He’s overworking himself, doesn’t even eat the food I make him. And I tried to tell him to take a break today. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t convince him. He’s probably still working on his music right now," he chuckles, but there is no trace of humor in the sound. "And then I come to you and you’re not okay. And I want to help but suddenly I’m pressuring you. And you’re trying, so hard and you’re doing so well and I’m pressuring you instead of helping. And I failed at being there for you both. What good I am if I’m not there for the people I lo- care about?"

"Don’t say that, please. You are good enough. More than enough," you cup his cheek, pressing his forehead on yours. "You’re always here. Don’t ever doubt that. I’m sure Chan appreciates everything you do for him."

"And you?" he asks, tone coated in such raw vulnerability that it knocks the breath out of you. At that moment, Minho was a plain hill, devoid of hidden nooks and crannies- nowhere for him to guard his emotions from you.

"Do you remember that night, when I asked you how I can help you feel yellow?" you ask after a while, and he nods, repetitive blinks rythming his silence. "I used to think that happiness was yellow, that sudden joy that drowns out the world around you. And I wanted to always feel yellow, the highest of highs. But that could only lead to another low, another extreme. I’ve since learned that true happiness is feeling peace when you lay in bed at night… And for your heart to beat soundly from contentment."

"I remember feeling this way only once, a long time ago. I woke up to see the sunrise, but I was a bit late to it, so I missed the orange and the pink," you chuckle slightly, as the distant memory floods you. "But I saw the blue, this really soft blue, and as I looked at it a strange sense of serenity washed over me. As if, as long as I looked at that pastel blue, I’d be alright. And now…" You smile softly, your thumb delicately grazing his cheek, Now, I can just look at you. You are my blue."

Minho’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he looks at you, mouth slightly hung agape. You giggle quietly, before patting his head gently. "Thank you for staying," you whisper, and a sudden smile breaks out on Minho’s face. It’s so radiant- as if every star in this galaxy was ground to fine dust and then sprinkled into it. You can’t admire it for long since Minho crashes his mouth on top of yours, drawing you in for a kiss that leaves you breathless afterward.

"You know I had a really nice dream yesterday," he finally whispers against your lips, a newfound lightness in his voice. "I think this is the first time where my reality is much sweeter."

✹✹✹

The first time you felt loved, truly.

It’s a couple of days into August when Chan tells you that he has signed up with a producing agency- it’s a huge step for him, one he’s been rambling about each time you met him for the past few months. So now you’re over at his and Minho’s dorm, attempting to bake a congratulatory cake for Chan. It was Minho’s idea, one he mumbled into your ear nonchalantly, as if he didn’t wake up really early to scout all the ingredients you might need.

"Why is baking so much harder than cooking?" Minho whines, burying his head dramatically in the crook of your neck. You giggle, patting his back in faux sympathy.

"So, you're admitting you're not good at everything?" you tease and he straightens up instantly, brows furrowed as he looks at you.

"I didn't say I'm not good at it. I said it's harder than cooking," he drawls out and you hum in reply, a teasing "sure, sure" escaping your mouth.

"Do you know how to crack an egg with one hand? That's the cue that you're a great baker."

"Why would I when I have two hands?" you chuckle and he smiles cheekily, raising his eyebrows at you. "Well, I can do it."

"Fine," you huff, grabbing an egg onto your hand. "Teach me?" you smile sweetly and he grins satisfied, "Of course."

"Here, you just need to crack the egg gently into the side of the bowl. And then lodge your finger inside, slowly pulling the shell apart. Like this," he demonstrates and you nod in understanding.

"Your turn," he smiles and you follow his instructions, tongue poking against your cheek in utmost concentration.

"Min look! I did it" You grin widely, turning around to show him the egg now dropped into the bowl.

"You did! I’m proud of you," he smiles, placing a tender kiss on your temple. You pause, the egg’s shell still tightly clutched in your hand. You didn’t drop it into the bowl, and someone’s proud of you for it.

It’s late into the night, and your stomach is aching from laughing for hours on end. Your plates of cake are on the ground, with only crumbs left on top of it. Minho invited two of Chan’s closest friends over- Felix and Han, so now you’re all playing rounds of Uno, and the poor freckled boy is losing each time.

"This isn’t fair," Felix whines, before stealing a bite of the leftover cake on the table. "This is really good by the way," he compliments and you giggle, turning around to point at Minho, only to find him already looking at you, a soft smile on his face.

"It’s all him," you say, and Chan gets his face impossibly close to your boyfriend’s, a teasing smile on his face. "You love me so much."

"I don’t. Get back," Minho pushes his face away, but you can tell he’s lying, from the fond smile threatening to spill over his mouth.

"Sure," Chan sing-songs, before turning to look at you. You wink at him and he ruffles your hair affectionately, as he always does when he wants to tease you. "Thank you for the cake, yn."

"You’re welcome," you grin as an unfamiliar warmth spread through your chest. Is this how it feels to have a family? People you care for and who care about you in return?

Minho notices the sudden bittersweet expression etched on your face, so he grabs your pinky in his hand, squeezing it slightly. You turn your palm around, before blindly intertwining your fingers with his- something you’ve gotten much better at lately.

"We’ll get going," Han announces when it’s nearly midnight, as he and Felix both get up from the floor. "Sure you don’t want to come to the party?" Chan asks, eyes trained on you and Minho.

"Yeah, we’ll stay the night."

You stand up as well, following Chan to the door and stopping him before he leaves. "You don’t mind me staying the night, right? It’s your dorm too, so I should ask."

"Of course not. You can come over whenever, even if Minho isn’t here. You don’t ever have to ask me, okay?"

"Okay, thank you, Chan," you beam at him, relief coursing through you at his words.

Soon enough, the dorm is silent, and it’s only you and Minho once again. You go to clean up but Minho pulls you by your hand, ushering you toward his bedroom. "Let's leave it to tomorrow," he says, and his voice sounds like warm candle wax dripping down on you. You can’t say no.

You find that he’s already prepared a pair of pajamas for you, spread out nicely on the bed- his grey shirt and a pair of shorts he has apparently overgrown.

"You'll find a box there, under the sink, it’s for you," he announces, as you walk into the bathroom to change. It’s filled with anything you might ever need, tissues and makeup removal and pads and medicine, and your cherry shampoo.

"When did you prepare this?" you ask as you open the door wide for him. He peeks his head inside, eyes softening when they take a glimpse at your figure - wearing his shirt, in his bathroom.

"A month ago, or so. Just in case you ever needed to stay the night." He's so thoughtful, you're starting to believe that the word was molded after him. "Is it enough? do you need something else?" he asks tentatively and you shake your head, squeezing his hand lightly. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"Of course. let's brush our teeth?" he smiles and you nod, grabbing the blue toothbrush he bought for you. He squeezes some toothpaste into it, and your eyes meet in the mirror. You can feel a blush creep up your face, to match the tip of his ears turning pink. It felt innocent to blush at the mere act of brushing your teeth together- at the domesticity of it, and the future hopes that lay within it.

Minho washes his face with his cleanser and you do the same. He suddenly hoists you up the bathroom counter, before standing between your legs. his arms cage your body, as his doe brown eyes look up at you. "Do my skincare for me," he pouts and you giggle, diligently taking the moisturizer and applying it to his face.

You take your time, massaging it into his skin, rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks and the tender skin under his eye. His eyes close at your touch, body leaning forward and pressing onto your legs. You grab his lip balm, applying it evenly to his puckered lips, and then you kiss him. Softly, tenderly, hands going up and down his arms. His own find your waist, encircling it, thumbs skimming your sides.

You lean away, a giddy smile on your face. "Thank you for the lip balm," you say, before kissing the tip of his nose.

Minho's room smells like clean laundry and vanilla, courtesy of the candle he lit up. You've been here before, but this is your first time sleeping on his bed. He goes in first, before beckoning you in. You lay down on his silky pillow, your hair fanning all around you. Some strands of it go into your mouth, and you giggle faintly as you pull them away.

"Here," he says, leaning over your body and opening the drawer next to you. He takes out a hair tie, and a faint memory dances around in your mind- you tying up his hair at the convenience store near Limbo.

"You kept it?" you question incredulously, voice coming out in a faint whisper.

"I did," he says simply as if it's ridiculous for you to expect otherwise. "Can I tie it up for you?" he asks and you nod.

His fingers gather your hair, making sure no strands of it are escaping. They're magical, relieving every tension you have in your body. You feel him twisting the tie around, securing your hair in a low ponytail.

"All done." his voice is quiet, and so is the kiss he presses onto your shoulder.

You both lay down, facing each other. It's silent but it no longer scares you. Not when your fingers are grazing Minho's palm, tentatively, the way one dips their toes into the water to test its temperature. Your hands are dancing around one another, not yet holding each other, as if engaged in a dance only your body understands. His eyes are locked on yours- a brown shade so mesmerizing you wish you could paint the entire universe with it.

His gaze is always soft when it comes to you, pupils slightly dilated, eyelashes fluttering with each blink. They're so quick you almost can't catch them, as if he unconsciously wants the time in which he looks at you to last longer.

Minho's hand reaches behind you, before pulling the slipping comforter over your body. He tucks it in your sides, and warmth surrounds you everywhere; from him mainly. He's been so attentive to you tonight- a silent care you only truly appreciate when you've experienced a lack of it. It's as if he's pouring years' worth of missed love back into your life, and in return all the love you've held within, never bestowed upon anyone else, has found its sole destination in the man by your side.

Your hand circles his once again, and you watch intently the way your fingers graze one another, delicately, as if skimming on the edge of holding one another. You give in first, intertwining your fingers with Minho’s and squeezing them gently. They fit his perfectly, this is where they're supposed to be.

"I don't know what you’re doing to me," he whispers, his eyes locking onto yours once more. There is a newfound emotion gleaming in his gaze- incredulity, at the depth of his feelings.

"What do you mean?" you question, nuzzling closer to him. Your head finds its rest on his arm and he responds instantly by patting your hair.

"I want to keep buying toothbrushes for you." His voice is hushed and yet it resounds loudly within your being, as if shouted from a sky-high rooftop.

You exhale softly, curling your hand around the back of his neck, and pulling him down gently to your face. You press your lips on top of his, and they move slowly, deliberately, like a painter's careful strokes. Each touch of his lips against yours is there to make you feel something- things that he can't bring himself to say, so he shows.

You finally break apart, dazed from the raw emotions barging into your heart. You then lift your head slightly, planting a tender kiss on his forehead. Minho closes his eyes, as your lips linger in there far longer than necessary. They remain closed even after you pull away, and it is the look on his face that pushes you over the edge. The serenity painted across his features, but particularly, the trust. As if you could mold him however you want and he'd be grateful you ever touched him to begin with.

"I love you," you confess so suddenly, and the words feel foreign yet familiar as they stumble out of your lips. You expect a shift in the universe, a disastrous change as you verbalize this sentiment that's long haunted you. And yet, all that happens is Minho's eyes shimmering as they look at you. And you realize that you aren’t scared he'd twist the words and stab you with them. You know he'd cherish them, even if he didn't feel the same.

"I love you," he says back, a radiant smile lighting up his face, coloring each of his features in unadulterated happiness. Hearing those three words from him made your heart leap in your chest. There is so much more of what you feel that you wish to express. You’ve told him, but you want to show, to press your body to his so the feeling would emit from your heart to his own.

Your hand trails across his chest, and you feel his muscles constrict under your touch. "Can I?" you ask, gazes flickering between his eyes and the hem of his shirt. It's always about permission to you both- permission to touch, to feel, to kiss and the answer is always yes. Yes, yes, yes.

"Please," he whispers, and you tug his shirt quickly over his head. You are a goner after that when his hands caress your skin like you're delicate porcelain. He’s hovering over you, the candle's shadow dancing across his body. Your fingers are tracing every inch of his skin graced by the flickering light, which meant your hands were everywhere, and every touch of yours was mirrored by him. Every kiss he returned ten times fold, every gasp he drank in hungrily, only eliciting a louder one in return.

"Tell me if you’d like to stop," he smiled tenderly down at you, his nose nuzzling against yours. You never felt the need to. And as the night marched forward, you gradually grasped what the poets meant by ‘making love’. You felt as if you were truly making love, as if your every move conjured love in its purest essence between the two of you. The ebb and flow of your bodies served as a spell, heightening your emotions into a raw fervor. It was love that orchestrated your moves, binding you both in a cacophony of sweet sounds, meant for you only to hear.

Minho's gaze remained fixed on yours, as he uncovered parts of you you've never dared to show anyone. It only cemented every feeling you harbored towards him. And the safety. The safety of being in his arms. To be as bare as one could possibly be, and yet to still feel blanketed by his soft eyes on you.

✹✹✹

Dainty snowflakes coat the outside world in a pristine white blanket. It’s a mesmerizing view, one you’ve grown to be grateful for these past few weeks since it signaled the return of winter, and with it, Minho’s birthday.

It's hard to resent snow when it welcomes the existence of the person you’ve fallen in love with.

The outside might be cold but you wouldn't know, not when you are nestled close to Minho, his legs thrown over your lap. You stare fondly at his figure, too engrossed in eating the birthday cake you’ve prepared for him- a vibrant green frosting and a picture of his three cats printed on top, just like he requested some time ago. You lean in a bit, wiping away a trace of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. He smiles at you tenderly, angling his head to press a soft kiss on your thumb pad.

There is a growing lump in Minho's throat, but it doesn't suffocate him, since it's formed by your love for him- you remembered what he said about the birthday cake. He was joking, obviously. But the fact that you brought his ridiculous wish to reality warmed him beyond belief.

You rummage a bit in your place, hands tucked under the pillows, and then you take out a purple envelope. "Open it," you say as you place it on top of his lap. Minho puts his plate down, straightening out in his place before looking at you, a curious smile on his face.

"More surprises?" he asks, referring to the gift you’ve already given him- a pair of t-shirts, all with cats and silly scriptures imprinted on them.

"Mm," you hum, as Minho finally opens the envelope. He pauses, as his eyes rack furiously over the content of the letter. "What's this?" he asks dumbfounded, trying to fully grasp the meaning of what he's reading.

"Because of constellations, people often think that stars always live together in a cluster. But oftentimes, they are alone. Or... if they're lucky enough, they get to roam the universe with a partner. They call them a binary star. Like you and me." Emotion simmers beneath your words, and you continue, your voice a gentle undercurrent.

"It's comforting to know that other versions of us are going through this world side by side too. To know that long after we're gone, there would still be two stars discovering the universe together, orbiting around one another. A token of the love we lived." You lift your gaze to meet his, to find him staring in awe at you. You take a mental picture of this moment, adding it to the collection of the ones you already captured of him.

"Our love may not be revolutionary, we're only two humans out of billions that have adored before us. But our love is grand to me. I try..." you bite your lip, reaching out for his hand- it will guide you as you try to speak. "I always try to find the words to describe how much you mean to me, to tell you how much you do to me. I used to always hold my hand out, in the hopes that someone would grab it. But no one did, so I curled it into a tight fist. And I thought it'd stay this way, for the rest of my life. Until you came, and you unclenched my fingers gently, one at a time, and then you grabbed it into yours." Tears are trailing out of your eyes now, but you show no effort to wipe them. Happy tears shouldn't be swept away.

"Thank you for existing, my Minho," you smile softly at him, and he nods, tears brimming in his waterline, cheeks flushed pink at your words. "Thank you for kissing my finger pads and reminding me that there is still softness in this world, all embodied in you." You cradle his cheeks tenderly in your hands, trying your best to let your love seep through your fingertips into his soul.

"I think you've carved yourself into me, carved your name into my heart. Your roots intertwined with mine, and thanks to you, I managed to crack through the hard earth and bloom again. Thank you for making me feel the warm sun again. I was so so cold before you." You whisper the last part, like a sinner's confession, eager for it to be carried away, forgotten.

Minho brings your body to his, as he buries his face in your chest. You can feel slight tremors shaking his body, and you place soft kisses on his shoulder blade- soothing, calming. You are safe in my love for you, they spell out.

"I can't believe you’ve named stars after us," he mumbles against you, and your fingers thread through his hair gently, flattening out stubborn strands of it. "It's nothing," you smile and he shakes his head vehemently. "It's not- it's not nothing to be loved by you. It's everything to me."

He leans away, bringing your head down to press his lips into yours. It tastes sweet from the cake and salty from his tears. It tastes like healing. You both kiss for mere seconds and yet it feels like an eternity to you. As if your mind stretches out time with Minho, knowing how valuable it becomes with him. He presses his lips onto yours one last time, before exhaling softly, melting completely in your hold.

"As long as you're with me, I don't ever need to look at the sky," he whispers. "There are enough stars in your eyes for me."

✹✹✹

It’s late December and the fragrant aroma of hot chocolate fills your apartment. You’re preparing two cups of the cozy drink in your kitchen, while Minho watches you fondly, leaning casually on the doorway.

"Are you just gonna stare at me?" you giggle, turning around to toss him a sly smile.

"Do you need my help making hot chocolate?" he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, I wouldn't say no to a bit of emotional support."

"Ah, my bad," he playfully bows, walking over to you. Minho gently wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. His bangs tickle the side of your face, akin to the brush of a butterfly’s wing, and a soothing sense of contentment washes over you as he holds you close.

Minho places a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, and the touch sends shivers along your spine. "This is for warming up the milk," he mumbles, adding another kiss to your neck, "and this for mixing in the hot chocolate powder," and a final one to your temple, "and this is for pouring it in cups."

"Why thank you," you giggle, turning around to hand him his cup. "Do you remember what episode we stopped at?"

"37," he replies instantly.

"I think you love this anime more than me," you pout jokingly. "I plead the fifth," he answers solemnly and you chuckle as you both make your way to the couch.

Merely one episode in and you can already tell that Minho is no longer focusing on the show. He’s absently swirling the drink in his hand, his gaze lost within his cup.

"What did the poor hot chocolate do to you?" you smile, a beacon of curiosity piercing through his daze. His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, turning around to look at you sheepishly. "Just zoned out."

"I noticed. What's on your mind?" you ask, lowering the volume of the TV to fully focus on him.

"There is an upcoming dance competition. It's at a regional scale and I'm just... wondering if I should participate."

"You should!" you fervently reply, "You're such a talented dancer. You deserve recognition for your hard work."

"I'll become very busy, though. It's already hard enough to manage this degree," he speaks softly as if he's not fully convinced of this excuse himself.

"I've never seen you as happy as you are when you're dancing. You'll handle it, and I'll be there for you too."

"I should do it, right?" he asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You really should," you echo, your hand rubbing reassuringly across his arm.

"Okay. I will," he nods, and you beam at him, before pulling him in for a comforting hug.

"On second thought... Everyone will now see how talented my boyfriend is and they will fall in love with you," you playfully muse as you hold him close.

"But everyone's already in love with me," he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Mm, the heartthrob of campus."

"People throw themselves right and left at me, it's exhausting," he sighs, the giddy smile easily heard in his voice.

"Okay, now you're overdoing it," you giggle and he further buries his head in your neck, inhaling the scent of your perfume. "Don't worry," he mumbles quietly, "I'm only ever yours."

As weeks meld into months, your days become a whirlwind of preparation for the dance competition; where each participant is required to create a choreography from scratch, for a song of their choosing. You witness firsthand the immense effort Minho pours into this, just as he does with everything he undertakes. He spent hours upon hours in the university's dance studio, and you were often there with him. While he practiced, you sat in a corner, working on your laptop. He only paused to kiss the top of your head before diving back into his practice.

He chose a song you've never heard before, called Taste. It was mesmerizing to witness him become a vessel for the melody, like an instrument attuned perfectly to the emotions the song tried to convey. His body moved sensually, flowing like fluid water, perfectly controlled by him. Every beat in Taste was matched with a move of his, powerful enough to capture you, gentle enough not to overwhelm you, like the ebb and flow of the waves brushing against the shore.

The first two months slipped through the hourglass of time in a breeze. And although Minho grew busier, you still both managed to carve out time for quick dates. Strolls by the ocean and spontaneous trips to the cinema- outings that helped you recharge fully once again. But the third month coincided with your midterm exams, casting a heavier cloud over both of your lives.

Minho became overwhelmed, quickly, bearing the weight of his two worlds. He was smart, immensely so, he could handle his classes with ease, retaining knowledge faster than anyone you knew. But the day only had twenty-four hours in it, and he couldn't possibly do it all- finding time to practice, study and take care of himself. So, you tried to handle the last part, as best as you could anyways. Exam seasons always took a heavy toll on you- both physically and emotionally. It also didn't help that you went down with a strong flu for two weeks, making your energy levels plummet to zero.

It was only three days before the start of your exams when a soft knock resounded on your door. You opened it to find an exhausted Minho. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, beads of sweat glistening on his upper brow.

"I'm tired," he whispers, eyes looking absolutely devoid of emotion as they align with yours. You smile softly, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside, "I know."

You lead him to the bathroom and he follows silently. He's so compliant in your hands as if all the energy in his body was sucked out of him. "Bad day?" you ask, as you peel away his blue hoodie.

"Very." He says, voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. You're here now," you try to keep your voice just as quiet as you take off the rest of his clothes. You undress quickly as well, before pulling you both to the shower.

Minho rests his forehead on your back, as you check the water temperature. When it's warm enough to feel soothing on his skin, you pull him underneath the jet, and you both stand in there for a while. His head hung low, now buried in the crook of your neck; his breaths growing slower, more even.

"You did well, my Minho," you say, voice threatening to get lost in the sound of the water hitting the tiles, but Minho catches it. He tightens his hold on you in response.

Minho can feel you reaching over and grabbing something from the rack behind him. He recognizes the smell of your shampoo as you pour it in your hands, before lathering it gently on his hair. He almost starts crying right there and then, as your fingers skillfully massage his scalp. You are everywhere, pressed to his body and your hands in his hair, and your cherry scent that’s washing all over him. And the outside world suddenly seems so far away.

You rinse off the shampoo, before grabbing your conditioner and threading it through his hair, making sure that every strand is evenly covered. He shuts his eyes closed, as your hands move to his neck and start massaging it. He's so sore from all the dancing, tired from the studying he has to catch up on. But you’re making him feel okay now, as you unravel his nerves without uttering a word. How do you do it? He wants to ask; how do you always paint his world blue?

Your hands are trailing over his body now, not sensually, just easing the knots in his muscles. You're spreading body wash all over him, and his eyes are still closed, as he feels you place tender kisses on his soapy skin. ‘I love you', your voice reaches him like a faraway lullaby, 'you've been working so hard', 'I'm proud of you'; and your comforting words morph into hot tears lodged into his waterline, begging for an escape.

You finally turn the water off, before pulling him outside and wrapping a towel around his waist. He sits idly on the edge of the bed, as you quickly put on your clothes, before walking over to him. You help him wear his pajamas, the ones he's left in your apartment since he often stays the night. He can't move a limb, but you're doing it in his place- as if the life in you was blown into him, and he's only breathing thanks to you.

Once you’re both fully clothed, you sit behind Minho on the bed, legs on either side of his body. You grab a towel you warmed in advance and begin to gently dry his hair with it, patting each strand with care. As soon as you're done, Minho turns around, nestling his head against your stomach. You let him, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I already told you, but I'm very proud of you," you say, head lowered so he'd be able to hear you. "I'm so amazed by your strength and hard work. You inspire me a lot, Min. Just keep on going, and if you need a break, you can rest by my side, okay?" You place a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

"I love you," you add softly, and Minho tightens his hold on you. And then he crumbles. Completely.

He falls apart in your arms, painful sobs racking through his body. You panic, as the unfamiliar sounds knock your breath away. You've seen Minho cry before, single tears that managed to escape from his eyes, trailing on his cheeks. But you've never seen him so shattered, so consumed by his pain that he could no longer contain it. You’re caught in his storm, as uncharted waves of his hurt crash against your shores. Has he been hurting all along? Were you this oblivious to the pain brewing inside him?

Your body’s shaking as you press your chest to his back, your arms cocooning his curled-up figure. You try your best to shield him; you don't know from what exactly, but you know it has to go through you first to get to him again.

"I'm so- sorry you have to see me this way," he hiccups, his words digging their claws deeper into your chest.

"Don't say that, baby, please. It's okay, you can cry as much as you want. I'm here."

"I'm sorry," he repeats, voice quivering, and you can feel your heart slowly cracking, hurting in depths you haven't thought existed before.

"Minho, I don't- I don't only love you when you're happy. I love you when you're angry and frustrated and when you're sad. You deserve kindness and you deserve to be kind to yourself because you are still Minho. My Minho. No matter what emotion you're feeling."

"Please stay with me," he pleads softly, and you bite your lower lip, as traitorous tears escape your eyes and land on his shirt. "Where would I go, love? You're my home. I'm here."

✹✹✹

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

The thought that's been reverberating within your mind, echoing since the moment Minho crumbled in your embrace.

Selfish.

Of course you are, since you remained oblivious to his own struggles as he slowly chipped away, until he shattered unexpectedly. Akin to a seemingly sturdy building, struck by a minor vibration and suddenly reduced to ruins.

Selfish.

Each time you sought solace in him, you failed to realize that he was stripping away his layers to shelter you. You took and took from him, each time you called, each time he came over to brush away your tears. Your endless bad days didn't leave room for his struggles, unperceived amidst your turmoil.

Selfish and horrible. You weren't made to be loved.

Minho is sleeping right next to you. He looks peaceful, endearing bunny-like teeth peeking through slightly parted lips. He's undisturbed, like a placid river, until someone selfishly decides to skip some stones in it- you.

His chest rises and falls, erasing all remnants of his previous breakdown, like a scripture on sand washed away by the waves. You could almost forget it ever happened if it wasn't for the persistent echoes of his sobs. Raw pain had seeped through him, yet it could have been different. If you had asked more, he might have unraveled slowly. He would have talked and he would've never had to explode.

Selfish and guilty. There's a bitter taste in your mouth. It doesn't go away when you hastily gulp down water.

You'll keep your problems to yourself. There is enough for him to bear already. By sharing your load, you aren't diminishing it, only adding more to his.

You can't let your mother be right. Not about this. Not when it comes to Minho. You can't ruin his life too.

✹✹✹

You are being distant.

Minho notices it straight away when you stop coming over to his dorm. When you find excuses to not come to Limbo anymore, accounting it for the exams you're both taking. But he knows it's just excuses. You are straying away from him. Your light that shone on him every day suddenly turned into a distant lighthouse beam.

And it's his fault.

He's embarrassed by his outburst. How he broke down right in front of you. How he clung to your arms, counting on your words and touch to stitch him back together. How he wasn't enough for himself, but you were.

Guilt floods his being, making you sadder when you're already dealing with so much. He recounts your tears dripping into his hair, as you hugged him tightly to your body. He made you cry; he shouldn't have broken down. That's why you're staying away. He can't blame you.

He misses you. He saw you this morning and yet he misses you. Because you weren't there with him, you were somewhere else, in a faraway place in your mind. What if he can't reach you anymore? He wasn't sure what to do with himself without you.

It's 11 pm, and he's knocking softly on your door. You open it and he smiles tightly. You smile back.

He hovers around the entrance of your apartment, hands tightly clasped behind his back. You unclasp them, interlocking your fingers with his and leading him to your couch. You are warm, he missed you. You are here and he misses you.

You both sit down, and you're looking at him curiously. His eyes fall to your lips, pillowy and rosy and he can't help pressing his mouth onto yours. It'll give him the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your lips and you lean away, confusion clearly written across your features.

"For crying the other day," he clarifies. "I've made you uncomfortable and you feel like you have to be cautious around me, and I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

"What are you saying? You didn't- you never..." you suck in a deep breath, inching closer to him. "Minho, don't ever apologize for that. please. You should never apologize for being human."

"But you are being distant," he says in a small voice, avoiding your eyes.

"Minho, I..." you bring your hand to his cheek, locking your gaze with his. "It's not what you think. I promise."

"Then what is it?"

You bite your lip, sighing loudly before speaking again. "You sobbed. And I had no idea you were hurting that much inside. I am so reclined on myself that I didn't notice. And I tried to distance myself so I'd sort my thoughts out. So, I could be there for you, fully. You're always here for me, and I feel... As if I failed you."

It's now his turn to cup your cheek, his thumbs gently brushing against your skin.

"I felt so loved by you that day. That's why I cried. because I've never felt that way before," he's quick to explain. "Yes, I was stressed and overwhelmed but it's not your fault. You were there for me when I needed you most. You didn't fail me; how could you think that?"

"Because it should've never gotten that bad. If I had noticed before, then I would've helped you and it wouldn't have gotten that bad for you. You don't deserve to feel sad, not when you’re... You. Someone like you shouldn't feel sad."

"Didn't you say we're humans? Isn't that what humans do? They fall down and they get up, I can't always be fine. It's not your fault."

"Minho you don't understand... How much more of yourself can you give to me, without hurting yourself in return?" You're so sure of these words you're uttering, as if you've drilled them into your mind by now. You couldn't be more wrong.

Minho blinks repeatedly, trying to gather the words in his mind properly. You weren't distancing yourself from him, because he had hurt you. But rather, so you wouldn't hurt him anymore. So, you'd be there for him more. A sudden relief floods his being. He isn't losing you.

Minho can't help the chuckle that escapes his mouth. He shakes his head slightly as he brings you to his chest. You're so warm as you wrap your arms around his waist. He still misses you but you're here, you aren't going anywhere.

"You memorized my coffee order. And my favorite pudding. You always bring me one when you come over. When you find a new flavor, I haven't tried, you always buy it for me. You look at me so excitedly when I try it. As if me finding a new favorite pudding brings your personal joy," he's talking softly, slowly, in the hopes that you'd understand what he means.

"You love spicy food, but you always cook without it when I'm with you. Because I can't handle it as well as you. You put snacks and water in my bag when I have dance practice, and then you come to check on me, even when you're busy too. You bought me an umbrella, and you placed it near the entrance of my dorm, so I wouldn't forget it. You give me the opened chopsticks package first, and you blow on my food so it wouldn't burn my tongue. And you let me pick the movie, every time. You let me pick it," he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, tightening his hold on you.

"You brush my hair away from my eyes when you think I'm asleep. And you make sure the blanket covers my body entirely, even if it means it doesn't cover you. I've never had that. Never had someone care for me this gently. Even when I'm not awake and I can't give them anything in return."

He leans back, smiling softly at you. There is a new palpable emotion in the air- love, in its most unconditional form. It smells fragrant and sweet- like you and him.

"I notice everything you do for me, every way in which you love me. You're here for me in more ways than you can ever imagine. And I love you. Please don't stray away from me. Promise me," he pouts slightly, nudging his pinky toward your face. You giggle in defeat, before wrapping your pinky with his.

"Didn't you think pinky promises were silly?"

"Nothing you like is silly."

"Not even that cheesy drama I watch?"

"Okay. Maybe that one is. But it makes you laugh," he trails off. "If it makes you laugh then I like it too."

"You'll talk to me more, right? About whatever's bothering you? When you're not feeling black yet?"

"I will, I promise. You too, right?"

"Mm. I will too."

"Good," he smiles, pecking your cheek softly. "I've missed you. And I don't mind feeling all the colors of the rainbow, as long as you're near me."

✹✹✹

The voices of your friends singing you happy birthday reaches you like the distant chirping of birds, fading away in the back of your mind with each passing second. You know that Mina is smiling at you, her head resting on Jeongin’s shoulders. And that Chan, Han and Felix are all clapping excitedly, their voices blending together in a somewhat harmonious melody. But you can’t seem to focus on any of it. Your eyes are set on Minho, who’s walking over to you, a vibrant pink cake in his hand. The surface of it is covered in candy- marshmallows and macaroons, and a dozen of lit candles. Their light flickers on Minho’s face, casting an ethereal glow on him.

And as your widened eyes meet his, he knows that it all just clicked in place for you.

Four months ago.

"What did you like to do, when you were younger?"

You stay quiet for a few moments, mulling over Minho’s question. The waves crash softly at your feet, the sound of them and Minho’s arms around you serving as a perfect cover to thread through your childhood once again.

"I had a bunny plushie. My aunt gave it to me one day when her daughter didn't want it anymore. She was going to throw it out, but I took care of it. We took care of each other, in a way. I used to stay alone at home a lot, and Caramelo would keep me company."

"Caramelo?" he giggles and you pinch his arm playfully. "I was six when I named it, sue me."

"Mm, and where is Caramelo now?"

"I left it in the house. I packed in such a hurry and it didn't fit in my suitcase. But I really wanted to bring it," you smile sadly and Minho can sense a shift in your tone, so he trails his hands across your arms gently, pulling you even closer to his chest.

"What else did you like?" he asks, placing a kiss under the shell of your ear.

"Playing in the playground, there was one really near home. I'd sneak out and go play in the swing, but there was no one to push me higher there," you chuckle slightly, burying yourself further in Minho's embrace.

"Oh, but I met a girl there when I was eleven, Lydia, I think. She was our neighbor, and she invited me to my first ever birthday party. Her parents prepared this huge cake for her, it was all pink with so much candy on top. I kept dreaming about having a similar one for my birthday. We also painted each other's nails and put on facemasks, and then we watched a movie. It was really fun," you recall, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. You were really shy and didn't talk to the other girls present, staying away in a corner. But Lydia grabbed your hand and pulled you next to her. She didn't let go during the entire movie.

You hoped she was okay, wherever she might be now.

"And... my mom took me one day to a hill near our home. We sat on a bench there, overlooking the city's lights. We didn't talk but she braided my hair since it kept getting in my mouth. That's my favorite memory with her."

Your voice is carried away with the wind, drowned in the waves. You hoped that one day your childhood memories will come back to you, like the sea foam dissolving at your feet. Gentle, incapable of hurting you anymore.

"You know what I really want now? A big cake for my birthday too," Minho suddenly whines and you giggle, turning around to look at him.

"Want me to bake it for you?" you tease and he nods, cradling your face between his cold hands. They warm up once they rest on your cheeks.

"Yes. I want the cats’ pictures printed on it, and..." he trails off, looking up at the sky. "I want it to be green.”

"Green?" you chuckle. "Isn't that a bit weird for a cake?"

"Are you questioning my vision?" he wiggles his brows at you, his hands coming to your sides.

"I am," you laugh, as he starts to tickle you, unwaveringly. You fall to the sand, and he's on top of you, hands roaming your body as loud laughter erupts from you.

Minho’s eyes soften as he gazes at your laughing figure, but he doesn't stop, not until you tap his arm multiple times, happy tears trailing from your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Green is perfect, you are a genius!"

"Why thank you," he smiles, before leaning down and kissing your tears away. You shiver slightly, from the cold and the feel of his soft lips on your skin. He notices.

"Come on," he outstretches his hand and you grab it, standing up and dusting your pants. Minho squats slightly in front of you, and you giggle before climbing on top of his back.

"Don't you ever wonder who was the person who invented tickling? They were just sitting down and then they touched someone and they started laughing,” he suddenly muses.

"Right! And then they decided this was something they should keep on doing, and it stuck around for centuries."

"I think it's really cute. It says I love the sound of your laugh so much that I will sit there and tickle you just to hear it."

"And you just tickled me," you trail out. "I know," he mumbles, the tips of his ears suddenly turning pink.

"I like your laugh too, Minho."

"Just like?" He teases, in a futile attempt to diffuse his shyness.

"I love it. I love it so much I could pay my entire life savings just to keep on hearing it again."

"Stop," he whines and you giggle, swinging your dangling feet in the air.

"Have you ever heard your laugh? No other melody can compare. At this point, musicians should just retire."

"You're insufferable," he finally laughs and you sigh, melting into his back.

"And you like me."

"And I love you."

Present time

The realization dawns on you like a floodgate- Minho is recreating your happiest childhood memories.

From the pink cake of your dreams. To the obnoxiously glittery nail polish he brought home three days ago, spontaneously, you foolishly assumed. He insisted on having a pampering night, where you both applied face masks to one another, bunny headbands tucking your hair out of your face. You giggled as he painted your nails with the utmost concentration, and then begged you to paint his in return. He didn't explain why he wanted pink nails suddenly, you should've known.

You should've known when he suddenly knocked on your door at midnight, taking your sleepy figure to the playground near your apartment. "Why are you here so late?" you questioned, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

"We are sneaking out," he whispered in your ear, and you didn't question his flawed logic- who were you sneaking out from exactly? But all was forgotten as he pushed you in the swing, fueled by your growing high-pitched giggles. "Higher?" he shouted and you laughed loudly, the sound of it echoing around the park. "Yes, higher!" Until you felt as if you were close enough to touching the stars.

You should've known.

Minho places the cake on the table, his warm hand finding your lower back. He rubs it soothingly, as you mouth a heartfelt "thank you" to him, hot tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. You couldn't speak, afraid of bursting into sobs in front of all your friends. He understands what you're referring to.

It's far later into the night when your friends finally leave Minho's dorm. You've all cleaned up the place, soft music emitting from the speakers. You didn't need songs to fill the silence, the conversations flowing easily between you all.

You gather all the gifts you've received and take them to Minho's room- a pair of shoes you've been raving about from Mina and Jeongin, and new headphones from Chan, Han, and Felix, since your old ones stopped working not too long ago.

"You're okay?" Minho asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

"Better than ever," you beam at him, cupping Minho's neck and meeting his lips in a tender kiss.

"I'm still not done," he smiles secretly, brushing his lips against yours once more, before pulling away. You watch, curious as he heads towards his closet and takes something out of it. Your eyes grow wide as they settle on the gift in his hands. You can feel your lip quivering as you walk hastily over to him.

"Is this...?" you ask incredulously and he nods, a happy smile on his face. "Your Caramelo."

"How... When?" you stammer, as happy tears blur your vision, "How did you do it?"

"I have my ways," he smiles assuredly at you. "Do you like it? I'm sorry if I overstepped by bringing it to you," he adds softly, a hint of vulnerability in his words.

"No, Minho, this is the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe it- I... I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he smiles, his hand rubbing your arm affectionately. "I figured this plushie should be in a loving home, with you. It helped you back then and now you're strong enough to help it in return."

There are overwhelming emotions that we can't quite express with words- like sorrow, sadness, or in your case, happiness. That's why touch was invented, you believe. As you pull Minho for a bone-crushing hug, Caramelo snug between your chests, you hope that he can feel everything you failed to express through words. That your soul will speak to him in a way your mouth couldn’t.

"When you told me there is a friend of yours, who lived in my town. There was no friend, right?" you mumble into his neck.

"No, I just wanted to know your address," he whispers, arms tightening around your waist.

"Did you meet my mom?"

"Yes. She's the one who gave it to me."

"Did she tell you anything... about me?" you ask cautiously.

Minho remembers snippets of his conversation with your mother- the indifference she showed towards you, as if it wasn't her daughter, her flesh and blood that she discarded away so easily.

"Nothing of importance. I promise you."

"Thank you," you whisper, voice caught up in your throat, bound by the ropes of your overflowing emotions. "Thank you for healing me."

Sleep didn’t come easily to you that night, and as Minho snored quietly next to you, you untangled your limbs from his, before heading to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water.

You find that the lights are already on and that Chan is working on his laptop, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at his screen.

"Hey," you greet softly, careful not to startle him.

"Our birthday girl," Chan grins and you chuckle quietly, before settling next to him on the couch.

"What are you working on?" you question, taking in the different settings displayed on his screen.

"Just a new song," he shrugs sheepishly, "I'm almost done with it."

"That's nice," you mumble, tucking your knees into your chest.

"I suppose Minho already gave you your gift," Chan speaks softly and you startle, turning around to look at him.

"He didn't tell me what it is, don't worry. But I assume he pretended as if it was no big deal, that he got it."

You nod silently, fearing that speaking would stop Chan from talking.

"I told him that he should just walk up to your house, present himself, and then ask your mom if he can take some of your stuff for you. But he said it’s too risky, and there is a chance she might say no. So, you know what he did?" Chan chuckles softly, and you feel the breath slowly escape your chest. "He spent weeks researching all the moving companies that work in your town. And then he bought us uniforms that looked like one of theirs. With the name tags and all. We rented a truck and we drove there, so we’d pretend as if we were moving the rest of your belongings. Your mom didn't question it thankfully, and I've never seen Minho as relieved as when he climbed back into the truck."

An overwhelming need to cry threatens to consume you, and you bite your lip harshly to stop it from taking over. Not in front of Chan.

"For him to go these lengths for you, means that he loves you a lot. But also, that he feels really loved by you. So, thank you, for loving Minho. I'm very happy you guys are together now." Chan smiles softly at you, before getting up and ruffling your hair slightly.

You quickly go back to Minho's room, before bringing his body tightly to yours. And as soon as you touch him, he mumbles your name in his sleep before throwing an arm over your waist.

"Thank you for loving me. I love you so much too," you whisper into his back, as your tears dampen his shirt. You wished that the words would reach him in his dreams, making them sweeter for him.

You didn't make a wish that day, as you blew the candles, foolishly believing that everything you've ever wanted was already around you. But you should've.

Maybe that would've stopped the anguish to come.

✹✹✹

There is a bad feeling nudged into the space between your ribs. You rub a soothing palm across your chest, in the hopes that it will calm your spiking anxiety. But you only feel your heart growing more erratic in your chest, and the sound of it only makes you panic ten times fold.

You’ve just woken up. You can hear the water running in the shower. Minho has stayed over since you both studied late into the night. You listen intently, a small breath of relief escaping your mouth when the water turns off. He’s okay.

You drag a hand tiredly across your face, before shaking your head left and right. You’ll have a good day, you’ll open the blinds and the golden sun will stream through your windows, and you’ll feel okay.

You don’t.

The dread lingers in your being throughout the day, making the simple act of walking weigh heavily on your bones. You try to distract yourself, by focusing on your classes and listening to Mina’s rants about her latest date with Jeongin. But to no prevail. So, you surrender to that feeling, today’s a bad day, but tomorrow doesn’t have to be. You’ll make sure of it.

It’s five pm when you finally walk up the stairs of your apartment. Minho went to grab you both something to eat since you’ll be studying again tonight. You wish he’d come home quickly, so you wouldn’t attach your anxiety to him. As long as you see him, then he’s okay.

You open the door, pausing by the front entrance. Something in you tells you to flee, to turn back, and never set foot inside. You don’t listen to it. If you paid attention to everything your mind tells you then you’d never truly live.

You quickly change out of your clothes, before turning on the TV. You mindlessly scroll through the show suggestions, and settle on one you haven’t seen before. You turn up the volume, making sure that the voices of the characters would drown the ones in your mind.

But then, your phone rings. It vibrates from the coffee table, the name of your aunt illuminating your screen. She calls you from time to time, but why is she doing it today? You don’t want to answer, not when there is a bulge in your throat suffocating you.

You watch numbly as the phone call seizes. You breathe out a shaky exhale. You’ll call her tomorrow.

The phone rings again.

You bite your lip harshly, hands shaking as you bring the device to your ear. You’re overreacting, you tell yourself. Nothing’s wrong. Minho will be home soon.

"What’s going on?" you ask immediately, the question slipping out of your mouth before you even thought about it.

Your aunt sighs softly, and then her voice floods your being. It sounds hoarse like she’s been crying. "Look, I…" another sigh, and you imagine her fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She always wore dresses. All seasons mingled. With pretty flowers sewed into them and sometimes even-

"Your mother died in a car accident."

Silence. You can't hear anything after those words are uttered. You know that your TV is still playing in the background and that your aunt is still talking on the phone. But it's completely silent. For five seconds. Where the world stills, as if to allow you a brief moment to process what you just heard.

Your mom. Gone.

But then, sounds crash upon you like a relentless wave. The shatter of the characters in the background, the ticking of your clock, the dull buzz of the refrigerator. And your aunt, she's still talking, telling you about the funeral and when it will be held and you can't believe what you are hearing.

It's all too overwhelming, everything surrounding you is too much to bear so you simply hang up.

You put your phone down on the table. And then you turn it off. That's one sound dealt with.

You turn the TV off and dismantle the clock from your wall so it wouldn't tick anymore. You then unplug your refrigerator. Has its buzzing always been this loud? You wonder. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now it’s silent. It's what you crave.

Minho will come home soon. You should make him something to eat. You think to yourself. A fruit salad. It's warm outside and the fruits are refreshing.

So, you grab a knife from your drawer, and then you start peeling an orange. Then an apple. It's rugged, and half the fruit is wasted with the peel. You've never really known how to peel the skin properly. So, you put the knife down. The blade is slightly red, you notice. There is blood oozing from your finger. You cut yourself. But it doesn't hurt, so you leave it be.

Light floods your apartment, a stark contrast to the shadows within you. But you want it to be dark, and silent. You already took care of that last part. So, you pull down all the blinds and turn off the lights one by one. Now it's pitch black. Now it's quiet.

You sit on the floor, running your hand across the tiles. You count them, one, two, three. When is Minho coming home?

The floor is cold underneath you, the sensation heightened since your every other sense is muffled. You can't see, you can't hear, but you can still touch. You wished you couldn't anymore. The smallest sensation overstimulates you.

The front door unlocks, but you don't hear someone coming in. You imagine Minho standing by the door, looking around in the dark. It's okay, he'll find you. He always does.

"Honey?" he calls out and you reply from the living room, "I’m here."

You don't have to yell, it's quiet enough for your voice to be carried around your home with ease.

Minho has his flashlight on, you notice. He's looking for you and he finally spots you on the ground. You move a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you feel something warm smear across your cheek. You forgot about your cut- a reminder of the pain lurking beneath the surface, waiting patiently to consume you.

"Baby?" His tone is soft and careful, and you can see the worry brewing in his brown eyes. Why was he worried? You're okay. Nothing happened.

"I made you a fruit salad. It's in the kitchen. Can you please turn off the light?"

"Okay." His voice is calm, and you don't mind him talking. You could bear it. He was different after all, to you.

He’s pulled into the abyss with you, as he sits down next to your rigid figure. His hand rests on top of your pinkie, but you recoil from it. Not because you hate it, but his hand is warm and the floor beneath you is cold. That's a contrasting sensation. You don't want that. You just want a stillness, to feel like a straight line. Straight lines are always sure of themselves, of where they're going. You were tired of feeling like a bent one at the hands of the universe.

"What happened, baby?"

"Nothing."

"Okay. What did you do when I left, hm?"

"Nothing much. I was watching this new show, I think you’ll like it. And then my aunt called. She told me my mom died in a car accident. And then I went to the kitchen and I cut up some fruits. But I didn't know how to peel them. Can you believe it?" you giggle, your voice suddenly high-pitched. "I mean who- who doesn’t know how to peel the skin of an apple? Isn't that such a basic skill?" You're laughing now, you don't know what's funny, but you're laughing.

"And I cut my finger, but I didn't feel anything, Minho. I don't- I don't feel anything," you're still giggling, hot tears trailing down your cheeks rapidly. "My mother died and I don't feel anything. Why- why can't I feel anything? Minho, I can't- I can't-" You're hyperventilating, words straining to come out of your mouth. The breath is knocked out of you and white spots cloud your vision, like the stars that dance around Minho’s eyes. They seem kind enough so you don't fight them. You want to welcome them in the hopes that they'd take this unbearable weight off of you.

"Yn, yn, breathe for me, baby. Listen to my voice," Minho calls out and it's as if you're pulled in two opposing directions. He sounds scared, so you try to do as he says. You don’t want him to worry about you.

"You're doing so well, breathe with me, okay? Breathe in... Breathe out... Perfect, let's do it again," he instructs and you try your best to follow suit. You can feel yourself shaking, your hands moving as if they have a mind of their own. You are cold, too cold, and you can't help but wonder if it's how your mother is feeling right now too.

The thought seems to drive you over the edge and you let out a guttural sob. It racks from within you, reverberating from the depths of your splitting soul. It's a pain unlike any you've ever felt. You try to find something to compare it to, a sensation you imagine must hurt the same. But you can't find any. You can't find a metaphor to make the pain more bearable.

So instead, you let out a heart-wrenching scream, slicing through the silence you tried desperately to maintain. Your throat aches from the strain on your vocal cords but you pay it no mind, not when there is a pain bursting open every seam of yours, undoing every thread you so carefully stitched back into your soul.

Amidst your pitch-black apartment, you see yourself quivering in the corner, head buried in your hands. And then it’s thirteen years old you sitting there, the one who wished for something so horrible to happen on the birthday she spent alone, yet again. Your wish came true, you want to tell her. You tried to take it back, but it came true.

Minho gathers you in his arms, and you clung to him. You know he's trying to wrap you up the best he can, his arms around your back and his legs pressed on you. He's trying his best to stop you from falling apart. From breaking beyond the point of no return. And you think to yourself that you've passed it. You've passed it and he's clinging helplessly into your remains now.

✹✹✹

The funeral went by in a blur, its details elusive in your memory. At times it felt like a fever dream, a mirage conjured by your mind. And sometimes you tried to believe it, to lull yourself into a comfortable thought. Where you don't talk with your mom and she doesn't know how you are doing, but she's still alive. On the other side of the country. She's still breathing.

But this fleeting comfort is quickly shattered. The thought barely lingers, like a whisper in the wind, never staying long enough for you to finally draw in a full breath. Because the grief clings onto your skin, and you carry it with you everywhere, like a stench that won’t quite leave you. You wonder if other people can smell it on you too.

Minho hasn't left your side, once. He's always next to you. His hands are resting on your back or brushing your cheek tenderly. They are always near. And you hold them tightly. You practically memorized the lines etched on his palm. It's all you stared at during the funeral.

It felt wrong and unjust to be somewhere where everybody knew your mother, except for you. You felt as if you were left out, robbed of happy memories to mourn as well. So, you remained silent, gaze fixed intently on Minho's palm. And he didn't mind; he never does when it comes to you.

He's gentle with you, he's always been, but he's particularly gentle with you these weeks. The countless times he's cared for you blur together- his soapy hands skimming your body, massaging the shampoo into your hair when your limbs felt too heavy to move; the meals he cooked for you, making sure that each bite was cool enough before feeding it to you. How he always told you he was proud of you, at random times throughout your days. ‘What for?’ you wanted to scream, ‘I'm barely alive as it is’. "For breathing," he'd add as if he heard the thoughts swirling in your mind. "For being here. For waking up today."

He did your laundry and he folded your clothes. Sometimes he even picked your outfits and dressed you in the morning. Leaving pecks all over your face after each worn clothing. You wanted to smile, to tell him how much you loved him. How his love felt like a sun ray peeking through the cell hole of a prisoner. But you couldn't speak. So, you hoped he knew.

He unburdened you of all these mundane tasks, so you'd focus on other ones. Like attending classes and taking notes and writing essays. Because as much as you wished for it, the world did not pause for your sorrow. In the grand tapestry of existence, where did you stand exactly? You were nothing but a mere speck of light. Your emotions, as profound as they were to you, did not hold the power to halt the world's march, to compel universal mourning.

But Minho made your world stop, just like he promised, almost a year and a half ago. When you finally found your voice, he'd listen to you talk, your head on his lap, his fingers weaving through your hair gently.

"I feel like I’m mourning two people. The person I knew and the person she could have been," you told him one night and he hummed, listening intently to you.

"The what-ifs are killing me Minho. It feels like I’m suffocating each time I think of what could have been. She left so suddenly. But she should've stayed. Maybe our relationship would've gotten better."

"Maybe… or maybe not, you can never truly know. And it’s not your job to find the answers to the questions she left behind. Maybe she didn’t even have them herself."

You appreciated how his hand never left yours, as you journeyed through seas of uncharted emotions. The anger- that came with her leaving so abruptly, leaving you behind with a heavy baggage to dissect. The sadness- from losing the woman who will always be part of you. Because we don't kill our hopeful past selves, we simply bury them and they remain just under the surface of our souls, a testament to everything we've been through.

The nostalgia- that creeps in from time to time, conjuring rose-tinted memories in your head. Maybe her voice was softer here. She did ask about your day one time. Wasn't that her sitting on the benches in your musical play? But it wasn't, it was just your brain trying to soften the harshness of losing her.

It is how our minds cope with grief, your therapist says. Minho convinced you to go see one. Because love doesn't mend everything. And he needed you to be okay again, for yourself.

He's always waiting for you after your sessions end. With coffee and a fresh pastry. You didn't eat them at first, because they tasted bland and you'd rather not waste them. But one time you bit into the strawberry muffin and it tasted sweet and citrusy. And you smiled at Minho.

He stared at you in awe that day, and then he kissed you softly, pressing his pillowy lips against yours. His eyes mirrored galaxies, tears tracing constellations down his cheeks. "You look so pretty when you smile," he whispered tenderly and you felt emotion bubbling within you, stuck in your throat. But you didn’t want to cry. So, you only smiled more brightly at his words, and you kept his compliment stored safely within you, right beside every sweet gesture of his since that day.

Minho didn’t have the answers to all your questions. He didn’t always know what to say to make it feel right. But he stayed there, he tried his best, to heal parts of you that you never knew could be bruised.

You tried one day, to go through the day normally. You woke up, opened the blinds, and then you made Minho breakfast. You ate lunch with Mina, making some jokes here and there. And when you saw Chan in the line of the coffee shop, you went up to him to talk.

And then you got home and showered, put on makeup, and waited for Minho to come to you. As soon as he opened the door, you were on him, hands busy unbuttoning his shirt, your lips pressed wildly on top of his. You missed him, missed the way he made you forget as he touched you, everywhere. As he showed you how much he loved you.

"I want you, please," you whispered, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, your hands roaming across his chest. Your tone was begging and Minho could feel the urgency in it, so he nodded, he could never say no to you. He watched as you guided him to the couch, as you straddled his lap. You kissed his neck and he tilted it back to give you more of an opening. His hands were on your thighs, cautious. Your lips on him felt heavenly but he couldn’t allow himself to get lost in the pleasure, he had to keep an eye on you.

You were urgent, with the way you sucked the tender skin above his collarbones, how you grinded your hips into his. As if you were on borrowed time and you had to make him reach his high as fast as possible.

"Tell me you’re mine," you muttered, between the kisses you imprinted onto his chest. He could see the lipstick stains you left behind as if you needed to mark him up for everyone to see.

"I'm yours," he says, his hand smoothing the top of your hair. He could sense that something was wrong now, because your eyes were glazed over, and your kisses were getting sloppy, as if your mind was somewhere else. So, he grabs your hips to pause you. "I'm yours, angel. You hear me?"

"Tell me you won’t leave, tell me you’re staying," you take his hands away from your sides, clasping them in a tight hold. You capture his lips in a desperate kiss, and Minho can feel the tears streaming down your face. "Tell me you’ll stay, please, I can’t- can’t lose you too."

"Hey, hey, love. It’s okay, calm down," Minho easily frees his hand from your grasp, bringing you closer to his chest. It’s all it takes for you to start sobbing. "Who said anything about losing me? I’m still here, I won’t ever leave you," he shushes, his voice sounding like honey to your ears. It manages to muffle the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

"I'm so so tired Minho, so tired," you sob, burying your head in his chest. You felt as if there was pain igniting the end of each of your nerves. You couldn't run away from it because the pain became you. "I try to be strong, but I can't. It hurts to wake up and- and to try to go on as if nothing happened. The thoughts in my head don't ever stop and I can't- I can't do this anymore. Please make it stop. Make it stop hurting," you press your palm onto your chest, a useless attempt to soothe the burn within.

Why did it feel as if in your attempts to put out the fire raging within you, you only ended up fueling it even more?

"I would- I would if I could but I can't do that, I wish I could-" his tone is desperate, raw pain dripping from it.

"What if I'm not strong enough to do it myself?" you cut him off, finally asking the question that's been haunting you. "What if I can't fill this hole within me and it keeps on growing until it swallows me whole?"

Minho tightens his hold on you, rocking you gently in place, trying to lull your heart to sleep, so it'd stop hurting, even for a moment, even for a second. You know it's selfish to expect him to have all the answers, but he's all you have. He's the only voice you can bear listening to.

"I can't promise you that you'll ever fill the void left by her absence. It will keep on bleeding and throbbing, begging for a temporary patch-up. But one day it'll stop, it can't bleed forever. And around that hole flowers will bloom, like a sanctuary, watered by your overflowing love. Because it is your love that's hurting you, not your anger. Do not kill your heart to stop feeling, please. It will do that on its own, it won't hurt more than it can bear."

"It will take time. And if you run out of your time, I'll give you mine too. You aren't alone in this, we are a binary star, right?" he smiles softly and you nod slightly against his chest. "I read that to the invisible eye, they look like a singular star. I hope that to the universe we'd look like one person too, so they'd pass some of your pain to me."

✹✹✹

It’s been a few months since your mother died. You didn’t like the term passing away, because it entails that it was gentle, in passing, as if you were expecting it. But her death was sudden and it made your entire world flip upside down.

"Would you like to talk to her?" Minho suggested one night, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly.

"Will you come with me?" you ask quietly.

"Of course. If you want me to, that is."

"I can try."

Minho drove you to the graveyard the following weekend. It felt weird to see her name etched on the grave, a reminder that this was all real and not a figment of your imagination.

"I'm not a daughter anymore." You speak after a while, tone coated in sadness, and acceptance. "But I think I’ve never truly been one, since you were never a mother to me."

"Is it weird, that I miss you? I don't even know what I miss exactly since you were never there. But I miss you. I miss having a mother. And I'm sorry, that you were so angry at the world you couldn't find it in you to love me." You pause, blindly reaching out to hold Minho's hand. He grabs it instantly. "But I won't carry your anger anymore. I don't want to be mad at you, for leaving so suddenly. I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. And I hope that you are too, wherever you are now."

You turn around, a small smile gracing your lips, and Minho wastes no time in wrapping you in his arms, your cheek resting against his shoulder. He's proud of you, the emotion shines clear as day in his eyes.

"I wanna take you somewhere," he tells you and you nod, wrapping your arm securely around his waist.

The drive is short and you recognize the place fairly easily. It's the hill you told him about a long time ago, the one that held your happiest memory with your mother.

You both sit on the bench, your head finding solace on his shoulder. The view unfolding in front of you is still as breathtaking, and with each passing moment, the tightness in your chest seems to ease. Memories of your mother and this serene spot intertwine like delicate vines, bringing you a bittersweet sense of comfort. Because mourning someone isn't straightforward, not when humans are this complex, never strictly good or bad.

"Cold?" Minho asks and you shake your head no. "You're a human heater."

"Only near you," he smirks and you giggle slightly.

"I remember your hands used to be so cold."

"So, I could find an excuse to hold yours."

"Are you flirting with me?" you chuckle and he nods, a proud smile on his face. "Is it working?"

"I haven't run away yet, so I suppose it is." There is a newfound lightness in your voice, one you’ve been achingly missing for the past months.

"Come here," he taps his lap with his hands and you promptly lay your head on it.

"Look at the sky," he instructs and you do as he says, squinting your eyes. "What am I supposed to see?" you giggle, but then you feel it, the faintest snowflake falling on your nose tip.

"Go away, I don't want to watch the first snow with you," you tilt your head towards Minho, who's watching you, a soft smile on his face.

You giggle at the distant memory, when you both left Limbo, two years ago. The first time Minho rewrote your memories.

"As if I could ever love you, that'd just be signing a death warrant," you repeat your words from that night, a knowing smile on your face.

"How's that death warrant going?"

"Horrible, so so horrible," you say as you intertwine his hand with yours, squeezing it lightly.

"Mm. I suppose we can't be the exception to the superstition."

"How unfortunate," you smile as he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, before looking back at the sky again.

He looks perfect from your view. You can clearly see the mole on his nose, the pucker of his rosy lips, and his long eyelashes framing his eyes. You are overcome by a feeling of love for the man beside you, and you stand up from your place to pull him in for a deep kiss.

"What was that for?" he smiles once you lean away, his fingers gently grazing your lips.

"Thank you, for today and for every day since I've met you."

"Of course, my love. You took a big step today, what color are you feeling right now?"

"Whatever color loving you is."

✹✹✹

Hills covered in verdant hues, rows of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, stretching before your eyes. The birds are chirping somewhere near, intermingling with the faint melody of the wind brushing against your skin.

"Here," Minho comes from behind, placing his knit jacket on top of your shoulders. Its warmth seeps through you, and you lean your back against his chest, melting into his embrace. His arms encircle your chest, resting comfortably on top of your heart as if guarding it from harm.

You feel your breathing slow down as you both look out the window. You are somewhere far from the city and its buzzing lights, a small white cottage surrounded by nature, where only you and Minho exist.

Minho nuzzles his chin on your shoulder, placing a chaste kiss under your ear. A light giggle escapes your mouth, as goosebumps rise upon your skin. Your body still reacts as sweetly to Minho, proofs of his love imprinted all over you. His touch is familiar to you but still as soothing, never losing its effect on you. You believe it never will, even when you're both withering down; his touch will still be the only thing making you bloom.

"This is nice," he whispers, sighing softly and you nod against him, raising your hand to settle on top of his. His fingers instinctively find your wedding ring, playing with it as they've done for the past two years.

"It's always nice with you," you say and he smiles softly, squeezing your hand lightly. You remember how it felt when he held it for the first time. How he hasn't let go since. It was only ever his to hold.

"We did well, don't you think? For our first time being alive."

His words make a gentle warmth stir within you. It is your first life, and you're lucky enough to spend it with him.

"We did," you turn around, to find him already looking down at your figure, a fond smile on his face. "To think we probably wouldn't be together if it wasn't for our law classes."

"No," he shakes his head, hands gently cupping your cheeks. "I would've found you. On a random evening when you'd stumble onto Limbo. In the supermarket where you'd buy your cherry shampoo. In the park you used to play in as a kid. I would've found you."

You've once read that when humans are about to pass away, a film of their happiest memories plays in front of their eyes. You know that many years down the road when you're on the brink of going away, you'll remember this moment clearly in your head. You'll remember the cicadas chirping far away, and the zesty smell of the lemon muffins you made earlier today. You'll remember the cold breeze ruffling your hair, and Minho’s warm hands on you. And you'll sigh contently, from having lived a life filled with love.

"My soul is dipped in yours. It will always find you too."

1K notes · View notes

heartkyeom · 11 months

Text

be sweet

prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)

word count: 18.7k

warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex

tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed

notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!

The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.

It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.

You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.

Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.

You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.

“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.

You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.

“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.

You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.

“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.

“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.

You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.

If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.

Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.

“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.

Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.

You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.

You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.

“Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.

He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.

Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.

“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.

“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.

You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.

Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.

He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.

“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.

“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.

“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.

“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?

“What do you mean?” You question.

He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.

Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.

How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?

It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.

“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.

You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.

“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.

“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.

The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.

“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.

“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.

“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.

“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.

“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.

You knew the country’s finances were not great.

You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.

“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.

“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.

“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.

“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”

You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.

“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.

“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.

“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.

“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.

You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”

“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.

Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”

“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”

You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.

“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.

You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.

“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.

“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.

“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.

“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.

Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.

The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.

You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.

You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.

—

As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.

You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.

Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.

Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.

Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.

“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.

When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.

“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.

“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.

“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.

“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.

“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.

“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.

“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.

Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.

Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.

“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.

A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.

“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.

“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.

“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.

You compose yourself before speaking again.

“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.

You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.

“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.

You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.

Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.

“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.

Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.

You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.

—

Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.

Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.

The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.

Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.

You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.

It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.

“What do you want?” You snap at him.

“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.

“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.

“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.

“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.

“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.

“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”

“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.

Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.

“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.

“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.

“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.

“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.

“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”

“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.

“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.

“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.

He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.

You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.

You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.

According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.

You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.

That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.

How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?

How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?

These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.

—

To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.

You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.

You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.

Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.

This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.

You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.

It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.

He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.

“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.

“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.

“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.

“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.

“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.

Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.

“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.

You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.

However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.

“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.

You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?

You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.

“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.

“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.

You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.

“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.

“Not at all.” He chimes in.

“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.

“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.

“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.

“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.

“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”

Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.

You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.

First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.

Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.

“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.

“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.

“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.

“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.

This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.

“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.

He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.

He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.

You didn’t want to end up in that position.

“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.

Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.

You figured that you should be bold too.

You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.

His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”

“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.

Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”

“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.

“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.

You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.

Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?

“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.

That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.

Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.

You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.

“When do we see each other again?” You ask.

“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.

“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.

“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.

“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.

Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.

Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.

“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.

That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.

“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.

“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.

“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.

“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.

“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.

That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.

“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.

“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.

“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.

“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.

You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.

—

A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.

At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.

You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.

You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.

“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.

“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.

“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.

“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.

“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.

“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.

“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.

You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.

“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.

You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.

Was it petty? Yes.

Was it also justified? Yes.

You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.

Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.

“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.

You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.

“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.

“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.

“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.

“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”

—

Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.

In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.

Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.

He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.

You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.

“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.

“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.

You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.

“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.

“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.

Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.

“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.

He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.

“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.

He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.

“So I’m not the first?” You ask.

“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.

The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.

“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.

“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.

“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.

“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.

It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.

“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.

Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.

“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.

“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.

“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.

You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.

However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.

“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”

His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.

“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.

The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.

—

The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.

You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.

Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.

Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.

You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.

“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.

You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.

“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.

“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.

“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.

“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.

“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.

“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.

“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.

“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.

“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.

“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.

“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.

“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.

“It sounds bad when you say it.”

—

“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.

“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.

“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”

He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.

“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.

The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.

“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.

“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.

“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.

“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.

“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.

“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.

“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”

He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.

He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.

“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.

“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.

“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.

“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.

“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.

“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.

“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.

“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.

“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.

You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.

He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.

“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.

That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.

“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”

“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.

“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.

“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.

You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.

It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.

You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.

Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.

“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.

“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.

That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.

It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.

You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.

You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.

Did you make him nervous?

He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.

“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.

“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.

“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.

“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.

“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.

He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.

You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.

Damn, he was good.

—

There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.

Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but

the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.

Why was he nervous to kiss you?

Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.

He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.

That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.

“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.

“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.

“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”

On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.

He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.

“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”

He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.

It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.

“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.

“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.

He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.

It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.

You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.

“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.

The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.

There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.

You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.

“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.

“What?”

“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.

This is your duty, right?

You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.

Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.

“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.

You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.

He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.

“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.

Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.

You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.

“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.

You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”

He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.

You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.

Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.

“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.

“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”

You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.

—

Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.

Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.

“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.

Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.

“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.

“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.

“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.

As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.

“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.

“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.

“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.

“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.

“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.

“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.

“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”

“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.

“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.

He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.

He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.

“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.

There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.

“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.

“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.

“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.

His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.

“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.

“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”

“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.

He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.

Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.

—

The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.

The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.

You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.

Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.

Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.

You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.

“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.

With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.

“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.

“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.

“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.

You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”

“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.

“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.

He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”

You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.

He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.

You were almost visibly in love.

“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.

“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.

“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.

What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?

Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t be better for you.

“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.

“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.

You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?

“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.

“What?” He sits up in surprise.

“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”

“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.

“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.

Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.

You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.

If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.

—

For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.

Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.

In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.

He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.

Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.

He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.

Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.

When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.

“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.

“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.

He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.

There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.

Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.

He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.

He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.

That was a kind gesture, right?

He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.

All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.

He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.

He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.

The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.

It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.

This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.

“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.

“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.

“Are you busy?”

“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.

“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.

“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.

“Well, these are your favorite.”

“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.

He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.

“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.

You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.

“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.

He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.

“Who said it was loveless?” He says.

“What?”

The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.

“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.

“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.

“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.

“Every day?” You question him.

“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.

“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.

“Anything holding you back?”

“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.

“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.

“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.

He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.

“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.

“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.

“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.

“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.

“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.

“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.

“Please,” You whisper.

It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.

He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.

—

“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.

As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.

Yet, your heart feels unanchored.

Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.

You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.

“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.

Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.

A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.

“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.

“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.

“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.

You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.

“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.

“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.

“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.

Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.

“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”

You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.

“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.

“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it’s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.

“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.

“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.

“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.

He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.

“Babe,” You whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.

“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.

“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.

“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.

“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.

It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.

—

“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.

“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.

You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.

The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.

Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.

Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.

“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.

You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”

He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”

“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.

“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.

“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.

“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.

He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”

“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.

You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.

“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.

“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.

“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.

He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.

“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.

“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.

“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.

“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.

Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.

You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.

“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.

“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.

You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.

“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.

He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.

Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“You love me?” He asks in surprise.

“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.

“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.

“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.

“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.

----

“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.

He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.

“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.

He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.

“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.

“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.

“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.

He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.

“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.

“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.

He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.

“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.

“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.

“Are you close?” You ask breathily.

“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.

“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.

“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.

“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.

“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.

It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.

You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.

You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.

“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.

“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.

His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.

“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.

“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.

“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,” You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.

“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.

“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.

He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.

“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.

“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.

As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.

There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.

Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.

You are both trying, and that is more than enough.

#svthub #hoshi smut #hoshi fic #soonyoung smut #soonyoung x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #svt angst #hoshi angst #AHHHH y’all have no idea how long I’ve been working on this #but I’m finally free thank god

2K notes · View notes

cheolhub · 9 months

Text

EVENING GLOW — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you’re having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better.

wc. 4.5k+

warnings. hurt/comfort, overthinking, reader goes through it and cries a lot, allusions to having anxiety, smut! soft bf!mingyu, so much praise (it’s insane), pet names (angel, baby, sweet/pretty girl), reader is v needy and sensitive, a lot of reassurance, hand holding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, creampie, V SOFT, unprotected sex — MINORS DNI 18+

note. because i love keir ( @jeonghantis ) and bc they deserve the world and all of the stars. also it’s really for anyone who’s had way too many bad days in a row <3 u are very loved (by me and ur fave). also, i lost sight of the plot half way thru this (very common reoccurrence in all of my mingyu fics) so i apologize for that hehsh. i appreciate ur feedback! <3 and yes, this is loosely based off evening glow by wave to earth <33333333 + @toruro i also hope u like this hehehe

bad days aren’t uncommon for you, but you’ve had significantly less since kim mingyu waltzed into your life like the klutz he is. he manages to make every day brighter by simply existing. every smile, every laugh, every touch makes bad days seem like a distant memory.

that’s not to say you don’t still have them because you do.

you still have days– like today– where it seems like nothing is right. days where you overthink every single thing in your life, ‘am i doing this right?’ ‘does he still love me?’ ‘does any of this even fucking matter?’ days where you want the earth to crack all the way open and swallow you whole.

those days are beyond harsh. they have you trudging back home with wet lash lines, cloudy vision, and a loud voice in your head that’s begging– pleading– don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry.

and today… today felt like you went to hell and back. the second your eyes opened, you knew it was going to be one of those days and it truly was a series of rather unfortunate events. you woke up late and alone, you were reprimanded by your boss, you spilled your much-needed coffee during your break, your coworkers were much more hostile than usual, you got yelled at by clients over the phone, your personal phone died halfway through the day because, of course, you forgot to charge it last night, and then, the intrusive thoughts came. the ones that had you overthinking like crazy.

and it’s not like you could talk to anyone about it (read: talk to mingyu about it). your phone was dead and you hated all of your coworkers, so you were stuck. stuck in limbo, it seemed, mind plagued with horrid thoughts. everything good in your life didn’t feel so good anymore.

which is why you were practically in tears when you got back home, letting them roll down your face shamelessly as your hand fumbled the keys. you eventually got it into the lock– after steadying your shaky hand– turning the metal and letting yourself in. the second you shut the door, you press your back against it, head in your hands as you let out the soft sobs you've been holding in all day.

on most of your bad days, you can keep your tears at bay till you make it into the shower. but, on days like today, you just can’t and your sobs echo through the empty apartment, reminding you that you’ll be alone till your boyfriend arrives. it’s not the prettiest sight, though, so you’re partially glad that mingyu misses it since he gets home after you.

he usually does, at least.

what you don’t realize is mingyu is home and he’s wandering around the apartment with his brows furrowed, confused as to where the sound of crying is coming from.

and when he sees you at the main entrance with your hands covering your face, he feels the air leave his lungs and his heart almost literally cracks in half.

he treads carefully, slowly making his way to you. “...baby?”

you’re startled, choking on one of your sobs at the sound of his voice. out of mere embarrassment, you quickly wipe your tears with your sleeve though it does nothing to hide the fact that you actually have been crying.

“gyu…” you say with a wavering voice, doing your absolute best to keep up your shitty facade. you quickly feel your resolve crumbling as you both stand in awkward silence, so you put your head down to avoid eye contact. “i-i thought you were working?”

he ignores your question and counters with his own, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

you bite your trembling lip and shake your head, eyes still trained on the floor.

he walks a few steps closer, now towering over your trembling body, “c’mon, angel. tell me what happened.”

you take a shuddered breath, slowly raising your head to look up at him. he frowns at your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and at the fact that all you can say is “hi…” in a nearly-inaudible, yet dulcet voice.

“hi, baby,” he whispers back, hands coming to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your stray tears. “tell me what happened.” he repeats, a bit more demanding this time.

you deflate, “i just had a bad day… it was nothing.”

he shakes his head at how you invalidate yourself, “it’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, Y/N…” he gently reminds. “please tell me? i wanna help… if you’ll let me.”

you sigh, leaning into his touch. your eyes flutter close and the words escape you before your brain can process them. you tell him everything trying your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you. it’s not like mingyu would care if you were crying and blubbering out your words, but you knew he hated seeing you so upset, so you refrain from shedding more tears.

you try to refrain, at least. you can’t stop the way they helplessly fall when you open your eyes again. “nothing was going right, gyu… my day was so bad that it had me overthinking every little thing.”

“i’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shake your head profusely, swallowing the lump you feel in your throat, “n-no! no, please, it’s not your fault, gyu, i swear. my phone died, so it’s not like you could’ve known anyway.”

he pulls away from you, hands coming down to hold yours. “what did you think about?”

you squeeze his hands, “a lot of things…”

“like?” he frowns, pressing further.

you look away, mumbling out a lie, “i dunno. it was a lot… i can’t really remember right now. ”

truth be told, you didn’t want to admit the anxiety-induced thoughts you had earlier knowing he’d worry. if he heard half the ones you had about your relationship, you know he’d probably break down himself. you’re well aware mingyu loves you more than anything on earth because he never fails to remind you.

but sometimes, the tiny voice in the back of your head– the one that says he’s too good to be true– gets a bit too loud and you tend to forget all his little reminders– all the ‘i love you’s’ he whispers into your ear right before bed, all the kisses he peppers onto your face, all the hugs where he squeezes the life out of you.

“you don’t have to tell me what you thought about, but i do want to tell you something,” he starts, a small smile making its way onto his pretty lips. he leans into you, with a voice so small as he says, “i love you. and i know i suffocate you with it sometimes, but it’s true. i love you so much. please don’t ever doubt that.”

you nod, sniffling, “i know.”

his smile grows, “and?...”

your lips curve up a bit and you whisper, “and i love you, too.”

“you better not forget it,” he playfully jokes, forehead resting on yours again. “you know i love you the most, though.”

you giggle softly, shaking your head. “you always turn it into a competition. you know it isn’t right?”

“i know it isn’t, but i do.” he confirms, voice tender and a bit hushed. “i want you to remember that the next time you think too hard. i love my pretty girl the most… more than anything. i’d do anything to keep you happy. wanna see that pretty smile everyday.”

the genuinity– the love– that drips from his words has you weak. the words replay in your head over and over almost as if it’s on a constant loop.

i love my pretty girl.

my pretty girl.

your breath hitches at the unanticipated pet name, remembering the sweet, innocent way it rolled off his tongue. you know you probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it doesn’t stop the way you squeeze your thighs together, pussy pulsing at the mere term of endearment. you’re almost sure mingyu can feel the heat radiating off your skin, yet he does nothing. he stands still, warm, brown eyes staring at your tear-stained face.

so you take matters into your own hands.

you stand tall and lean into him. your nose brushes against his and the proximity between the two of you closes quickly. i want to be kissed, your face reads– begs– and he finally sees that, obliging reluctantly.

his eyes flutter and his lips graze against yours before you take the lead and close the gap for him. as his mouth collides with yours, you feel warmth erupt in your body and you relish it.

the kiss is soft. gentle. it nearly has you melting under him.

but the longer his lips mold against yours, the longer his tongue roams the inside of your mouth, the needier you get. it’s like all your worries wash away. all the bad thoughts evaporate into thin air. all you can think about is the everlasting love you have for the man before you and the incessant love he has for you, too.

you untangle your hands from his in favor of pawing at his chest, nails digging into the cotton fabric of his shit and slightly biting into his skin.

you’re slowly, yet surely losing your mind. the kiss deepens and all the coherent thoughts you had minutes prior are being pushed to the back as mingyu is on the forefront of your mind. you’re overcome with need for him. need for him to make you forget everything. need for him to fuck you till all you can think about him and the way his cock makes you feel.

and mingyu knows this, of course. he knows with the way you claw at him and how you whimper desperately as if you’ve been deprived from his touch for far too long.

it’s why he doesn’t make you beg for it. instead he’s pulling away, watching you chase his lips while he breathlessly asks, “you sure you wanna do this, baby?” he looks so enamored with you. there’s no doubt you look like a complete mess right now, but it’s like he sees past it. past the tears, past the red eyes, past all the sadness.

“please,” you whisper, sniffling again.

he murmurs okay against your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you to your shared room.

he diligently strips you of your clothing, first your pants then your shirt. his fingers skillfully popping the buttons on your blouse and slipping it off your body, letting it fall into a pool on the ground.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, massive hands immediately moving to grope your tits through your bra. “you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

his words linger in the air and you feel them. you feel beautiful when he stares at you half naked in your cotton panties and mismatched bra. you feel beautiful with your puffy eyes and snotty nose. mingyu makes you feel so beautiful even in your most unfavorable moments.

you whimper at his heavy hands, your own tugging at the ends of his shirt, wordlessly begging for the fabric to join the other clothes on the ground. he obliges immediately, practically ripping it off of himself before his hands are back on you.

he pulls your bra down, letting your tits spill out, kneading at the flesh with hearts in his eyes. a breathy version of his name comes out of your mouth–

and the sound makes his cock ache. his body yearns and begs to be inside of you. so much so that it has him swiftly unclasping your bra before gently pushing you onto the bed. he thinks it’s gentle, at least. mingyu tends to forget his strength so his gentle can be your rough.

it doesn’t matter, it never has. every single act mingyu performs for you is one that comes from a place of love. he’s a benevolent man, not a single malicious bone lives in his hand-crafted body.

“gyu,” you whisper, hand slipping in between your thighs to work on your clothed clit as he towers over you. at your own contact, you feel a shock run through your body and your back just slightly arches off the bed. “need you.”

he curses under his breath, suddenly unable to breathe in his loose house shorts. he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and presenting his leaky, hard cock to you.

and the sight has your entire body going hot. you throw your head back against the plush pillows and moan out his name, louder this time, fingers moving faster against your clit– though it would feel so much better if he finally put his hands on you. or better yet, his cock inside of you.

“gyu,” you drag out his name in a cry and you finally feel the bed dip under his weight.

“i know, baby,” he whispers, hand moving yours away from your soaked panties in favor of replacing it. when his bigger fingers begin to rub circles into the covered bud, you gasp and let yours grasp at the sheets under you. “i know you need me. i’ve got you.” he reassures you, voice shaky as he notices just how wet you are. “gonna make you feel so good, don’t worry.”

but you don’t realize how sensitive you are because the second his hand slips inside your panties, his warm hand finding your heated cunt, fresh tears spring to your eyes. “oh, fuck,” you shudder, shaking underneath him.

“you’re so wet,” he mutters the obvious, fingers dipping in between your folds to collect your slick before pulling his hand out.

“don’t tease me,” you plead weakly.

he frowns, shaking his head, “i’m not– i won’t,” he tells you softly, rolling your panties off your body and down your legs. he tosses the cotton material over to join the other articles of clothing on the ground before his hands spread your legs open, displaying you for himself. “i told you that i got you, pretty girl, i promise.”

you give him a broken nod, squirming in discomfort.

his hand is back on your pussy in no time, tapping at your drooling hole with two of his fingers. “this still okay?”

you nod again, “yes, gyu.”

he leans down, lips meeting yours as he presses into you with his index and middle fingers. he’s quick to swallow your moan as he stretches you open, feeling the way your gummy walls invite and welcome him in.

your kiss is more fervent this time around. you can feel his need, the way he shoves his tongue into your mouth, messy and uncoordinated. it has you trapping his fingers between your wet walls, grinding with all your might against his hand.

you have no clue how he manages to multi-task, both finger-fucking and kissing you into oblivion, but he does both without fail. you whine desperately against his lips, one of your hands coming to wrap around his wrist in hopes to support yourself.

the wet squelching of your cunt fills the room and it has him pulling away from you for a second to groan out, “you hear that, angel? pretty pussy takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well.”

you clench around him again, enveloping him as if your life depended on it– you feel so fucking good–

and yet you crave more. it feels good, yes, mingyu always has you seeing stars, but you need more. more of his fingers, more of him. and mingyu is probably well aware of the fact with the way your pussy swallows his fingers, but you know he’s reluctant about giving you too much because of… prior events.

you want that– you want too much. you want to forget about your shitty day. the only thing you want to think about, the only thing you want to be all-consumed by in this very moment, is mingyu.

“m-more–” you whine against his lips as he wildly pushes in and out of your messy cunt.

fingers unfaltering in speed, he pulls away from you breathlessly, lips wet and swollen. “more, baby?”

“mhm,” you give him pleading eyes as you whisper, “wanna cum.”

“fuck,” he mumbles, nodding his head mindlessly as if your words put him into a daze. his fingers pull out and his ring finger joins the two that are already covered in your slick. they push into you slowly, effectively opening you up. “how’s this, beautiful? this enough?”

you pant, clamping around the digits, squeezing them like a vice. “m-min-” you muffle your moan with your hand, more tears stinging in your eyes.

“no?” he asks, an endearing grin on his face. he maneuvers till he’s in between your legs, he moves further down the bed and your heart thumps erratically in your chest.

it’s when his lips wrap around your clit while he concurrently thrusts his fingers into your sopping heat that you let out an ear-splitting moan. you lace your fingers into his silky hair and tug at his roots without a care.

he winces and moans against you at the feeling, the pain making his cock throb against the bed.

your mind escapes you, melting at the pleasure. his tongue flicks at the sensitive, swollen bud while his fingers curl against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy.

“s-so close, fuck, i’m close, gyu.” you babble breathlessly.

he moans again, tirelessly continuing his brutal attack on your pussy, but the sound waves of said moans shock your entirety and teeter right over the edge. your vision goes black for a solid minute, only a few specks of white in sight, your blinding orgasm taking your entire body over.

you jerk under him, back arching as you release all over his fingers, the tightrope in your tummy completely unraveling and allowing you to soak his fingers in your syrupy arousal. his mouth moves down as he pulls out and slurps you up obnoxiously, eating you out as you cum.

and you can’t stop shaking, not even after he’s pulled his mouth and fingers away from you. your body twitches and writhes like he’s been working you for hours and mingyu, astounded, has never seen you like this– well, he definitely has– not after a single orgasm, at least.

he shudders, body burning with need. the taste of you alone has his brain a bit fuzzy. “are… you okay? was it too much?” he manages to ask, voice strained.

mingyu thinks his question falls on deaf ears when all he hears is your heaving and tiny whimpers. he moves to clean you up, partially worried he overstimulated you, but then you make grabby hands at the large, flushed man.

he leans into your touch, allowing you to grab on to him, “what’s wrong?”

when he looks into your eyes, glassy and glazed over, he notices the hint of need. the pinch of pure desperation. he sees the way you wordlessly ask for more of him, how you wordlessly ask for him to just fuck you already– he can’t deny you. not with the year-long day you’ve had or with the way his cock is basically begging to stuff you full.

he pecks your lips and sits up again. a soft chuckle escapes him as you chase him for another kiss, but it quickly turns into a sharp breath when he looks down at your puffy, pulsing pussy. you’re crying for him, that much is obvious, but your pussy is just weeping.

an endless trail of arousal continues to drool out of you and it’s so enticing… yet it feels so tantalizing…

he feels a bit guilty for being this hard, for wanting to fuck you so bad. it’s in his good nature. you’ve told him countless times that it’s okay, that you need him, but he just wants to make sure.

“are you sure?” he whispers, so soft that you could almost miss it. “we can just go to bed if you’re not up for this, Y/N.”

you can tell that mingyu is fighting inner turmoil. you know he always feels guilty for fucking you stupid. today, though, you’re sure he feels guilty for the other things.

you don’t want him to. he shouldn’t feel guilty for something beyond his control, so you muster up all your strength and, in a wavered voice, tell him, “i want you… always want you.”

you hear his breath of relief and see the wobbly smile on his face and you mirror it. he’s quickly ridding his mind of the guilt and shame at your reassurance and lining himself up with your hole. he slides the tip of his cock between your lips and revels in the way you jolt gently.

“deep breath f’me,” he mutters, knowing you’ll need it. when he hears your shaky inhale, he takes one of his own right as he pushes into you. “fuck,” he says breathlessly. you’re still so fucking tight around him.

a broken whine bubbles up in the back of your throat and mingyu watches the way your eyes screw shut and your jaw goes slack. beautiful, he thinks to himself. even when you’re fucked out of your mind.

he finds the strength to push past the resistance, slowly shoving himself inside of you till his pelvis meets yours.

when he bottoms out, your face contorts and you’re spluttering over your words, “s-so big,”

he nods his head like he knows. “i know, baby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his hands into yours. “but you’re so good for me, always take me so well.” he whispers this time as he’s leaning down, moving your intertwined hands next to your head on the pillow. his free hand cups your heated cheek and he studies you for a few minutes, cock fully sheathed inside of you.

he watches your face change as you become accustomed to the size of him, how your contorted, pained face relaxes as the minutes pass. when your eyes flutter open and you whimper his name, “gyu…” he pulls out a tiny bit before pushing back in– something of an experimental thrust– and discerns your positive reaction.

he repeats his actions, inching out a bit more and sliding back in with ease. his eyes observe you intently, noticing every reaction you make as he drives his cock in and out of you, each one going deeper than the last.

his hand squeezes yours and his lips graze against yours, “feel good?” he asks, breath fanning over your face.

“uh-huh, so good,” you respond in a pant. “th-thank you.”

he falters a bit, but continues to deliver his deep and calculated thrusts. “why are you thanking me, angel?”

“for taking care of me.”

mingyu’s heart swells and nearly bursts right then and there. his smile practically reaches his ears because mingyu, admittedly, loves being the cause of your pleasure. he’s a giver. he always has been.

it makes his hips move faster, his hips flushing to yours with every stroke. the bed squeaks under you, loud and annoyingly high-pitched. neither of you are bothered by the sound as you’re wrapped up within each other– you’re moaning and whining for more and more against his lips and he’s promising to deliver through deep groans and grunts against yours.

and he does deliver. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. you squeeze the hand in yours and your other comes to claw at his body. you dig your nails into the flesh of his arm, biting into him in favor of leaving crescent shapes on his smooth skin.

he hisses, but the subtle sting just spurs him on. that and the way your pussy contracts around him.

“oh fuck,” you whisper, a high-pitched whine following the words. you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s making all too much. your body is buzzing and the familiar knot is forming quicker than usual. “mingyu– mingyu, i-i’m so close.”

he nods, breathing out, “it’s okay, baby– cum for me. you deserve it.” you deserve everything you want, he fails to add.

you don’t hold back, completely unraveling under him. you’re easily reduced to a mess, gushing all over his cock while you mewl a mantra of his name. your brain leaves you for a solid minute as you mindlessly babble out thank you’s and i love you’s.

he pulls away from your lips as he watches you come undone. he’s truly so enraptured by you. with your tear-stained cheeks and the drool that trails past your bruised lips. when you tell him you love him– almost incoherently– his dick twitches in your spasming cunt.

“i love you.” he groans, swiftly rocking into you. you’re sobbing in overstimulation, but he eases you with more praise. “you’re so good, fuck, so perfect. i love you so bad.”

his hand leaves your cheek, instead grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. he pins your hands next to your head, just like the other, and continues fucking you.

“my pretty girl,” he murmurs, holding your contrastingly smaller hands tightly. “i’m gonna cum inside… you want that right?”

the question triggers your mind back to life. “please,” you moan weakly. “n-need it.”

he twitches again, a throaty groan coming out of him before he gasps. his entire body stiffens before he presses himself all the way inside of you. his groans and grunts distort to needy moans as ropes of his seed paint the velvet walls of your convulsing heat.

he attempts to control his breathing. after a minute straight of panting and whining, his heaving chest slows and falls into a steady rhythm.

“are you okay?” he pants, pulling out of you, body still hovering over yours. “was it too much…”

your lips turn up into a tiny, sweet smile and nod your head, “‘m okay, baby.”

“good,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing your lips.

he releases you from his grasp and falls next to you, trying to recover more before cleaning you up. he sighs, soothing a hand over your skin and you scoot into him.

“i wanna help you,” mingyu starts with the softest voice you’ve ever heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “you can always tell me when you’re having one of these days, baby… you know that right?”

“i know,” you nod, mindlessly tracing shapes onto his bare chest.

“i’m always gonna be here for you… as long as you’ll have me.”

“i know.” you repeat, words whispered this time. “you always make the days better– make them shine– you literally have a heart of gold, mingyu.”

he chuckles, “i don’t,”

“no, you do. just trust me. if we cut you open right now for open heart surgery, there’d be 24 karat gold in the shape of a human heart inside of you.” you tell him.

mingyu smiles widely. happily.

“just remember that this heart is all yours, angel.”

taglist 🏷️: svt : 🔖 @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor @jihoontea

#mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

2K notes · View notes

krashoutluv · 3 months

Text

Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

#jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #jason todd headcanon #arkham knight headcanon #jason todd hc #red hood x reader #red hood smut

655 notes · View notes

leviathans-watching · 10 months

Text

lucifer, mammon, diavolo apologizing after a fight

includes: lucifer, mammon, diavolo x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.2k | rated t | m.list

a/n: i guess i was in the mood for some mild hurt/comfort and fluff lol. thanks for reading and my inbox is open for reqs, feedback, and just to talk so come talk with me!

please reblog <3

lucifer shuts the door behind him quietly, listening intently. the house is silent, but he knows you’re still awake. trying to shake himself free of his nerves, he checks over the bouquet of flowers, making sure they’re in top shape, then straightens his tie.

making his way through the house, he checks each room for you, each as dark and empty as the last. until he gets to your shared room, where the door is shut. he listens at the door, and can faintly hear music and running water. you’re likely in the bath.

pushing the door open, lucifer sees then ensuite bathroom’s door cracked and can now distinguish faint splashing. you’re definitely in there. calling out your name so he won’t startle you, lucifer waits until you allow him to enter.

“what?” you ask irritably, not meeting his eyes, and his heart skinks. he feels terrible for the earlier argument especially since it’s clear you’re still upset.

“darling, i wanted to apologize for earlier,” he says, dropping to his knees outside of the bath. you pop some bubbles, resolutley ignoring him, so he goes on. “i was being stubborn and knew even in the moment you were correct. there are no excuses for my earlier words and actions and i am truly sorry.” he offers you the flowers. “will you forgive me?”

you finally look up at him, and his gut tightens. how could he have been so cruel to you?

you take the flowers, smelling them for a long, painful moment. then you give them back and he feels like he’s been punched. until you speak.

“thank you for the apology. and for the flowers. of course i forgive you. but,” you warn, “you must never, and i mean never, lucifer, speak to me that way. do you understand?”

“yes, darling, anything,” he promises, overpowering relief crashing through him. you lift a wet hand up and pull him to you by the tie, bringing his face to yours.

“good. and i’m glad you realized i was right.” you give him a peck, lips there and gone before he can act. “now, to fully make it up to me, will you wash my hair?”

“you don’t even have to ask,” lucifer replies, already rolling up his sleeves. as he helps you wash, a finally peaceful silence falling between you, he thinks of how lucky he is to have you, something he’s aware of each and every day.

mammon jumps up when he hears the door open, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. you’d gone for a walk after the earlier fight and every moment without you was excruciation, especially after he’d finally admitted to himself he was in the wrong.

“hey,” he breathes as you remove your coat. you give him a look, and he knows he’s got to do better. “i’m sorry, mc,” he amends, feeling like he’s speaking too loud for the distance between you. “i seriously fucked up and i’m so, so sorry. i was angry but that was no excuse to treat you like that or speak to you that way. i’m really sorry.”

“thank you,” you finally say, breathing out a sigh. “and i’m sorry too. i overreacted.”

“no!” he says quickly. “you were only reacting to my aggression. it was my fault. and you were right. i understand if you want more space from me.”

“to be honest,” you begin. “that’s the last thing i want right now. come here and give me a hug.”

mammon moves faster than he should, almost tripping over the coffee table, and wraps you in his arms tightly. it’s only now that he realizes he’s practically trembling–man, he must have been really nervous. you hug him back, just as tight, and his eyes are only bringing because he’s got some dust in them, okay? absolutely no other reason.

after a long, long moment, you pull back from him, giving him a watery smile. “i love you,” you say, and he presses his forehead to yours, feeling your warmth.

“i love you too. i’m sorry.”

“you already said that,” you tease, and he smiles sadly.

“’m still sorry. and, to be honest, don’t want to cook. so whaddya say we go out for ramen tonight?”

“only if i get to pick where,” you say. “and if you pay.”

“well i thought that was obvious,” he huffs. your stomach growls then, and he grabs your coat, motioning for you to let him help you put it on. he grabs your hand when it’s all buttoned, wrapping his fingers around your tightly. he made the mistake of letting you go earlier and he’s not going to do anything like that now.

diavolo frets, looking over everything once again. he truly has no idea how to apologize, and though asking barbatos had crossed his mind he knew he couldn’t ask another man to help him with this. not when it concerns you.

as son of the demon kind, diavolo’s never really been wrong before. demons just kind of…listened to him, and in cases where he was really off the path barbatos and lucifer would often guide him without explicitly crossing his orders, something he knows they think he hasn’t noticed. but navigating life with you is nothing like ruling over the devildom, and in many ways, diavolo finds it much, much harder.

but he’s going to admit he was wrong and apologize! if there’s one thing he can remember from when he was very, very young, it was watching his father, the king, apologize to the queen, much as he’s doing now. the only difference is that he hasn’t officially made you ruler alongside him but that can be thought about later.

he checks his ddd for the time, and exhales nervously. he’d asked you to meet him at the spot of your first date and it was nearing the time that he’d written, and you never were one to be late. as if he imagined you, you appear, hesitant and nervous. but you’d come, and that’s enough for him.

“diavolo? what is all of this?” you look over the picnic, from the expensive chocolates to the wrapped gift and then back to him.

“i wanted to say i was sorry,” he says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “when we argued, i wasn’t fair to you, nor did i listen. and then i reacted poorly and in a way that’s never okay. and i truly apologize.”

“you did all this to apologize?” you ask, and he nods.

“was it too much? i don’t really know what i’m doing but i know i want to make it up to you. can you forgive me?”

“of course,” you reply, and he feels like he can finally breathe. “and while this is nice, it is a little much. i really only wanted to hear you say you were sorry.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i know. thank you for saying that. and for doing all of this. and i’m sorry too,” you continue, holding up a hand before he can say you have nothing to apologize for. “i should have talked to you instead of just running away. now, let’s enjoy this wonderful picnic you’ve prepared.”

“i love you,” he says. “so much.”

“i love you,” is your simple reply, but for him, it’s more than enough.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

2K notes · View notes

multiland · 1 year

Text

summary: They say people turn into their most vulnerable selves in the middle of the night, can you trust yourself at 3 a.m. to keep hiding the crush you've been harboring on your friend?

pairing: Joshua x female reader (ft. best friend Jeonghan and the rest of svt)

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, smut.

warnings: kissing, tension, fingering, a bit of oral (m), mutual pining, cursing, mentions of alcohol, Joshua being oblivious, soft dom Joshua, body worshipping, dirty talk, unprotected sex. Shua is the sweetest. This was an old fic I wrote for another group, so I decided to take it and edit it enough to use it again.

please leave some feedback!! it motivates me a lot🩷

word count: 12k

You’ve heard a lot of good things about turning twenty-seven, and despite you not being the biggest fan of celebrating your birthdays, you weren’t surprised the moment your group of friends decided to book a trip to celebrate properly.

Consisting of mostly males, you’re used to them taking every opportunity to drink and throw parties. However, since spending time with them is fun and makes you happy, you would never actually complain.

"Do you think it's gonna be like, really cold out there?" That's the main question spinning around your head as you stare at your open closet, still debating on which pieces of clothing are the ones that should be packed.

Jeonghan, who's sprawled on your bed with his back against the headboard as he scrolls through social media, hums, not looking up.

He’s been your best friend since high school. You had heard about him back then due to his prince-like appearance, and him unsurprisingly having every single girl wrapped around his finger. Funny enough, and seemingly accustomed to the attention, he never really batted an eye at any of them. Despite being aware of his almost-unrealistic beauty, you didn’t really gave much thought to anything related to him besides whatever you’d hear the girls fussing about across the corridors.

But then, on a good day, you found each other rolling your eyes at the same girl’s annoying tone of voice, the two of you realized and even chuckled. It was an instant click and you’ve been inseparable since then.

A perfect balance between being different but so similar at the same time. You truly didn’t believe in soulmates, but turns out you can find one in the shape of a friend.

It had never occurred to you, however, that befriending the prince of school would instantly make you part of a much bigger group of, admittedly, really good-looking guys and girls when you started college.

That’s what brings you here.

"What do you think, Sherlock?" He quirks a brow, as he glances up in your direction. "We're going to the mountains, there's no way it's gonna be hot up there unless it’s like, a volcano."

An annoyed sigh falls past your lips as you roll your eyes at his antics, grabbing different styles of sweaters, hoodies, jackets, and all that could be of use in such weather. Turning around, you carefully fold your clothes and place them into the opened suitcase at the edge of the bed.

"Please remind me. Why were we going to the mountains instead of the beach, again?"

Jeonghan's lips curl up in a soft smirk, locking his phone and tossing it to the side before his eyes land on yours.

"Because going to the beach is too basic. We always go to the beach."

"So all of you just decided to go on a trip to the cold ass mountains and rent wooden cabins in the middle of April in the name of… What? Eccentricity?" You narrow your eyes. "Yeah. Sounds like something my group of friends would do."

The man chuckles.

"Don't be a brat. You didn't have to pay for anything, this is your birthday gift from us, and all you have to do is look pretty and try to get your grumpy ass to have fun."

You fold your arms over your chest, raising a brow at his words.

"Yeah, sounds like my dream holiday having to babysit drunk adults."

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

"Look, complain all you want once we’re back. Let’s not ruin the mood." He insists. "Besides, since it's your birthday, you can avoid all kinds of responsibilities. But you don't tell them I told you that or i’ll make sure to bring Soonyoung to your bed when he’s drunk and crying."

Panic instantly crosses your features.

“My lips are totally sealed.” It's a promise, gesturing to zip them with your fingers.

Plopping yourself down onto the mattress, you lay your head on Jeonghan’s lap. His slender fingers immediately fly to thread in your hair, gentle scraps on your scalp relaxing your body.

"Then, does that mean you're gonna take care of them for me?" You ask, looking up at his face in hope, trying your best puppy eyes just to guilt trip him.

Jeonghan scoffs.

"Me? No way. I did it once and ended up having both Seokmin and Soonyoung sneaking into my bed. Soonyoung kept crying and Seokmin just laughed at him. They were so loud I had to leave the room. Not to mention I had to wash the damn sheets cause one of them vomited in the middle of the night."

Grimacing at the thought, you really try not to laugh at the same time.

“Sounds like a ride.” You tease. "What about Seungkwan?"

Dark eyes glare down at you.

"He was sleeping peacefully in his bed."

"Why didn't one of them go to his bed?"

Sighing, he says: "I didn’t let them move. Having these two drunk is one thing, having these two drunk and Seungkwan cursing at the top of his lungs at three in the morning is something entirely different. We’ve had complaints from the neighbors."

"Yeah… I wouldn’t risk it, either."

Then, he chuckles.

"The best option is leaving them to either Cheol or Minghao." You nod in agreement, “Preferably Cheol. Hao doesn’t have that much patience after a while.”

Right after, his phone goes off and he checks the incoming message. "Well, here we go again." He comments, taking a deep breath before pressing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Your eyes open, brows knitting together as you sit up.

"What's up?"

"Soonyoung was betting with Seokmin and got his head stuck somewhere around the park fence." He explains, "Gotta go. Sorry."

He stands up, and you can do nothing but smile sympathetically at him.

"Good luck with that." With the same smile, you pat his arm. He steps forward and flicks on your forehead with his fingers, before walking to the door. You groan in response, rubbing the sore area.

"Don't forget the vans will be here at 7 a.m."

Right. You need to act like an early bird, and your first reaction to the reminder is a groan.

"How many times do I have to say I’m not a morning person?"

“The same amount of times I have to tell Soonyoung to keep his head out of any kind of holes.” He adds, waving one last time before finally exiting your room.

As soon as he leaves, you let out a big sigh. Truthfully, you’re intrigued by how this trip is going to be, and you kinda know for sure sleeping’s gonna be a challenge.

The sound of your alarm pulls you out of the slumber you worked so hard to get in. Groaning, you stretch out your arm to stop the torture from continuing any further. Your lids don’t seem to cooperate, too tired and heavy to open and making you question if you really need to go on that trip to begin with. You could just call them and say you woke up feeling ill and you can’t leave the house while being sick, right?

As if on cue, you instantly have Jeonghan’s voice resonating in your head, telling you all the possible consequences of you bailing everyone when everything’s ready. All the ways he would blackmail you into getting up, in short.

So after taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs once again, you pull the duvet off of you and stand up, dragging your feet sleepily towards the bathroom to take a shower and get as ready as you can actually be.

Admittedly, you took longer than you should have thanks to all the times you dozed off in the shower, and that’s exactly what’s making you rush as your phone keeps buzzing incessantly against the marbled sink, with incoming calls from your best friend.

You can’t even make yourself look presentable at this point, messily throwing your clothes on and grabbing your luggage to drag downstairs, your hair still dripping wet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You exclaim, picking up one of his calls, and then hanging up before you could even get a response from the other side of the line.

Turning the lights off, you open the front door and place the luggage down to close the entrance, trying to catch your breath, cause for fuck’s sake, you’re still sleepy, it’s early in the morning and you already not only had to run downstairs, but also carry such a heavy suitcase on your own…Cause if you’re being honest, you probably packed more than what you needed for a weekend-long trip.

The sound of the van’s door sliding open can be heard from behind, as you lock the door. The wet droplets falling from your hair dampen your shirt and make you shiver. However, nothing prepares your body for the reaction it gets as soon as you turn around and see him.

Standing there, perfect silky hair dangling over his eyes and curling up at the nape of his neck. Sparkly round orbits narrowed in a try to protect themselves from the inclement rays of sunshine, and pretty lips forming the sweetest tight-lipped smile you could’ve dreamed to have seen this early in the morning. Your heart skips a bit, and all the sleepiness washes away; all of this before you can even stop yourself from returning the gesture.

Joshua Hong. You met him one of those times when Jeonghan had dragged you to a small gathering with his friends, then finding him at the nearest convenience store you had from your job.

As soon as you saw him, you were instantly smitten. His doe eyes, cute nose, and sweet voice made the air get stuck in your throat. And as if being so incredibly pretty-faced wasn’t enough, there’s the plus of such a warm personality.

What at first started off as simple acquaitances with friends in common, slowly blossomed into a friendship. Joshua was often who spent time with you at parties, whenever Jeonghan was busy either playing alcohol games, or arguing over something random with someone else. He was also who you found at the book store in search of some kind of book so you could learn how to bake cupcakes in your sugar craving nights. He is, also, someone you feel totally comfortable with, someone selfless who never judges anyone. Someone with a view of the world in a positive light, a free spirit that only encourages you to be true to yourself and accept others as they are.

All the times you’ve felt out of place, or simply aren’t in the mood to do anything at all, there he is to sit with you and listen to all your rants with that sweet smile adorning his face, just as if you were telling him the most interesting of stories.

He’s a music enthusiast. Likes to play guitar and morning walks to clear his mind. Such sunchild like him was able to charm a moonchild like you. So different, but so similar at the same time.

Despite that, the two of you ended up having more things in common than you could’ve expected. None of you like confrontation, and often prefer spontaneity. Both enjoy rainy days, and spending time at home in front of a fireplace when winter arrives. He’s a gentleman, never speaks over anyone and rarely raises his voice. He’s patient, and always makes you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk.

All those little things did nothing but irremediably attract you, feel nothing but admiration towards the way he sees life and empathizes with you or others.

He’s sweet, and fun to be around. With a sweet laugh and authenticity, the way he’s so soft-spoken and the way he never hesitates to offer help with chores, he’s domestic, so down to earth, nothing short of a prince. A good friend, a good listener, and in truth, you could’ve considered him one of your closest friends if it wasn’t for a simple reason… As a best friend, you have Jeonghan for. In his case, you have a big, fat crush on. So, although sharing a lot of time together, you just can’t help the way your heart flutters whenever he’s around. With a friend you share teasing, pranks, messiness… With Joshua, you share peace, comfort.

The already too-long list of traits to make you fall for someone has had his name highlighted for a while, and it seems that he always finds a new way to make you fall even deeper.

Like that day he sang his favorite song in front of you with his guitar in hand. You knew back then you were done for.

This crush you have on him is something you’ve been harboring, keeping to yourself as a precious secret, cause yeah, he’s your friend, but also if the way you look at him when he’s not even doing anything doesn’t give you away, then maybe everyone else is just oblivious.

Joshua makes his way over to you and your heart races. God, he looks so good and you look like you just rolled off your bed and fell into a puddle.

He smiles again and leans down to pick your suitcase, looking into your eyes as soon as he stands up back straight.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, Shua. I’m doing good, what about you?” Greet him back, a simple task it should be. But your voice betrays you and comes out in almost a whisper. Since you can't make it obvious, you gnaw at your lower lip in embarrassment. However, Joshua being Joshua, pays no mind.

“I’m great, thank you. Let me help you with this.”

And they say chivalry is dead. Your lips form a smile, following behind him on the way to the van.

“Thank you.” You say softly, stopping behind him as he places your luggage somewhere with the rest of the suitcases.

“My pleasure.”

You flinch when the van parked behind suddenly opens its door, and the next thing you hear is your name being called from the inside. The voices of Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Chan, who you find waving at you as soon as you turn your head. With a chuckle, you wave back at them, gesturing with your hand for them to stop the noise before someone gets mad right after.

Joshua meets your gaze when you look back, and gestures with his head for you to get in. You smile again because that’s all you can do when he’s around.

Then you hop in the vehicle and Jeonghan waves at you from the last row of seats at the back. Making your way over, you keep the same small smile, noticing the sleeping boys across the other seats before you plop down next to your friend.

The door closes right after Joshua hops back in, and you’re stealing glances at him until the man next to you grabs your face between his fingers and turns your head to look at him. He frowns.

“Any reason in particular why you’re soaking?”

Your brows knit together, and he releases you.

“Just felt like getting refreshed.”

Your best friend snorts, and you shoot him a glare in return.

“You fell asleep in the shower, didn’t you?”

“Shut up.”

He giggles, and you decide to ignore him as the car starts moving, fastening your seatbelt. It doesn't take long until your eyes fly back to the object of your desires.

You don’t know how you’re gonna survive being so close to him.

Three hours into the road trip and you’re sleeping soundly against Jeonghan’s shoulder while he scrolls through his phone. The van comes to a stop, so everyone is able to go to the bathroom or buy more snacks. Some of the boys are gathering outside before Jun approaches Seungcheol and Joshua.

“Hey, do you guys think I could move to your van? My seatbelt isn’t working and I’ve been panicking over every single bump on the road for like three hours, I’m exhausted.”

Seungcheol and Joshua laugh.

“Why would you wait three hours to say anything?” Seungcheol asks, tilting his head in confusion. Jun’s brows furrow together before he says:

“What else was I supposed to do? Stop the van in the middle of nowhere?”

“You could’ve called me and I would’ve asked the driver to pull over to take care of it.” The eldest shrugs, Jun groans.

“Can I go to your van or not?”

Seungcheol looks at Joshua, who shrugs as he sips on his water bottle.

“Sure, I can move to the last row.”

Jun smiles with his thumbs up before they make their way back to the van. Junhui goes to the other vehicle to take his pillow and bring it with him. Joshua, once inside, grabs some of his stuff and walks toward the back of the car. Seeing you asleep as the corners of his mouth curl up in the most subtle smile at the scene, right when Jeonghan looks up at him in question.

“Jun is moving to this van.” He says quietly as if reading the male's mind. Jeonghan nods and goes back to his business.

The slender Junhui finally hops into the van with his stuff, taking Joshua’s previous seat and fastening his seatbelt. The door slides closed and Joshua secures himself as well, tucking his AirPods in his ears and playing his music.

Everything is peaceful for the next thirty or so minutes, Joshua is currently with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, head back resting against the headrest as his mind focuses only on the music.

But then, you stir in your sleep and move to lean your head on his shoulder. His body tenses as soon as he feels your sudden proximity, face nuzzling in the crook of his neck and forcing him to gulp. He starts playing with his own fingers, averting his gaze from the window, not really knowing how to react. He waits for you to realize, but soon notices you’re still deeply asleep, so he lets you stay there for the rest of the road.

“Hey, wake up, we arrived,” Jeonghan calls, gently shaking you. “Hey, open your eyes,” He repeats, and you’re finally woken up, sitting straight and rubbing your eyes to help them get used to the light.

Disoriented for a moment, the gears in your brain slowly start to work at their normal speed. You stretch out your now sore limbs as you look at your surroundings. All the boys left their vans except you, Jeonghan trying to wake you up, and Joshua, whom you notice is still seated beside you. You frown, but he smiles.

“Wait, weren’t you sitting in the front row? What did I miss? How long did I sleep?”

He chuckles, charmed by your utter confusion.

“Well, yeah, but Jun moved to this van. You would’ve noticed if you hadn’t been sleeping for four hours,” Jeonghan is the one to respond, grabbing your hands and pulling you up.

“Four hours?!” You exclaim, rubbing your eyes.

The faintest grunt manages to be hidden from you, and all of you three make your way to exit the van. Jeonghan is the first one to jump out, followed by Joshua. Your vision is still blurry and you’re still clumsy from the grogginess, which doesn’t make the calculation between the van and the floor an easy task.

Joshua notices, so he extends his hand for you to take. You look at it, then at his face. He offers you yet another gentle smile and your stomach flips even in your current state. Still, you smile back and accept his hand, clasping yours around it as he helps you land on your feet without an issue.

You reunite with the rest of the guys soon after, and they’re quick to erase any trace of tiredness as soon as they start being their loud selves, taking turns to hug you or pat your head.

And well, you don’t complain, because it’s nice to have all of them around.

You take a second to look at your surroundings, but the air is way too filled with haze to be able to distinguish anything at all. The cold breeze chills you to the bone and you start to feel the urge to get into to the warmth of the cabin, and as if your prayers had been heard, you spot Seungcheol walking with a few pairs of keys and two girls in their twenties following behind him.

“Okay. So, we have four cabins at our disposition. In the first one will stay Minghao, Seokmin, Vernon and Jihoon. Junhui, Chan, Seungkwan and Soonyoung in the second one, Jeonghan, Wonwoo and Mingyu in the third, and lastly, the fourth one is for Joshua, myself, and our girl here.” He explains. “They the hosts, Jihye and Jangmi.”

The ground beneath you quakes at the thought of sharing a place with Joshua himself, breath hitching in your throat and mouth going dry. Your eyes nervously travel to the two girls in front of you, as if asking for help. They don't help you, but they also seem very welcoming and kind.

“Hi, I’m Jihye. We live here in a house that’s around the corner, and we’ll gladly be available for anything you may need.” She smiles. “The four cabins are equipped with furniture, fireplaces, kitchens, two bathrooms, and four rooms respectively. Each room has a TV, a heater, a desk, and a closet for you to place all of your items.”

“In the living room you’ll find the fireplace, comfortable couches, and even a sofa bed. In the kitchen, you have a small dining table, a microwave, a refrigerator, and different kinds of utensils for you to use,” The second girl adds. “Here in the common areas, you have some benches, picnic tables, and grillers. We also have wifi and my name is Jangmi, by the way.” She chuckles, and all of you laugh along.”

“Also, the bathrooms have a water heater and a first aid kit inside the cabinets. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to reach out and we’ll be happy to help.” Continues Jihye, with a kind smile.

All of you bow in gratitude for their help, right before Soonyoung speaks.

“Are you aware that we’re throwing a party tomorrow night?” He asks in genuine curiosity, Jihye nods.

“Yeah, we’ve been notified and you don’t have to worry about anything. Since we’re in a mountain, there shouldn’t be a problem when it comes to music, for example.”

“Cool!”

“Okay but, I have a question.” You finally speak, feeling everyone’s eyes landing on you. You clear your throat. “Would it be weird if I asked you to join?”

Certainly, you don’t know these girls, but they seem very sweet and it would be awful of you not to, at least, ask them if they’d like to join when they’re so close.

“Oh that’s alright! You don’t have to.” One of them says, waving her hand dismissively.

“But we’d love it if you joined us,” Seokmin says, walking to you and placing his arm around your neck. “It’ll be fun.”

All of them agree, and the girls seem a bit taken aback, you suppose they’ve never been included in anything similar when it comes to tourists. But then, and after a quick glance to one another, they smile.

“If that’s okay with you, we’d love to.”

You smile at them.

“Then it’s settled up.”

Needless to say, you didn’t take long to stop by Jeonghan’s cabin. After taking a much-needed shower and getting diner, you dressed in your coziest pajamas and exited your place to visit your best friend.

And there you are, sprawled across his bed as he sits on the chair in front of the desk.

Staring up at the ceiling fan, you blurt out:

“I was hoping we’d stay at the same cabin.”

“Don’t pretend like you like me that much.” Jeonghan promptly responds. Teasing you as you prop yourself up with your elbows to glare at him. “You have the Hong Jisoo himself in there, what else could you ask for as a birthday gift?”

A faint gasp escapes you, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He laughs out loud.

“Shut the fuck up, would you?” You whisper-shout, crawling to the edge of the bed to get closer. He tries to stop laughing but your distressed expression makes it impossible for him. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. No one’s supposed to know.”

“Yeah, because no one would ever notice the way you shamelessly keep staring at him.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You groan, smacking his thigh while he continues laughing. “Cut it out, you asshole.”

His laugh slowly dies down, then he catches his breath.

“Anyway… Not the point.” He continues. “He’s going to be in the room across from yours. Would you really want to have me there instead of him?”

There it is. That stupid look with a quirked brow. He really knows you well.

You groan, covering your face with your palms before laying down on your back.

“You’re so fucking annoying”

“I wonder how you’ll react when I tell you that you slept on him for over an hour.”

Eyes flying open, you almost fall off the bed.

“What did you say?! What the fuck? I did not, you always like to see me distressed. You’re fucking with me.” Embarrassment floods inside you, grabbing another pillow to repeatedly hit him with it as a coping mechanism.

Jeonghan once again laughs at your reaction, covering himself with his arms before snatching the pillow away.

“Stop it with the damned pillow.” He groans. “And no, I’m not lying. Though I do love the way you’re losing your shit.”

“How am I supposed to look at him whe-” You trail off, “Wait, did I drool? Snore? Fart?” Jeonghan laughs again. “Stop laughing for fuck’s sake, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m going to bite your head off!”

“God you’re so dramatic.” He chuckles. “Nothing big, he’ll understand if you’re a bit gassy.”

“What?!”

He laughs out loud again.

“I’m just kidding. You didn’t do anything.”

“What kind of best friend are you?”

“The one you chose, sweetheart.” He teases, grabbing your chin with his fingers and winking at you. You roll your eyes, then smack his hand away.

The door opens right after, and Vernon's head pops in.

“Hey, wanna watch a movie with us?”

“Who are ‘us’?” You ask in return.

“Ehh… I don’t know? Kwan, Chan, Hao, Jun, Joshua… Me?” He shrugs. “Most of us.”

Giving it a thought, you end up realizing you don't truly feel like making a fool of yourself any further, so you smile and shake your head.

“I think I’ll pass. I have to unpack and I’m feeling tired.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow then.” Vernon smiles, waving before closing the door.

Jeonghan gives you a suspicious look.

“What?”

“You slept the whole road and you’re tired?”

“Well, yeah… Panicking is exhausting.” You respond, gaining a roll of his eyes in return. “I’ll go to my room and think about my life decisions. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You add, walking towards the door.

“Sure, just know I’ll tell Joshua you didn’t stay because of him.”

You glare back at your best friend. He laughs.

“Make sure I don’t touch your coffee in the morning, Yoon Jeonghan”

You’re snuggled up in the warmth of the designated bed, sleeping peacefully until the door slams open and a bunch of men enter the room singing very loudly a happy birthday.

A groan erupts from your throat against the pillow, lights being turned on before you can even sit up and rub your eyes to adjust to the sudden illuminance. The cheerful idiots continue singing off key on purpose, clapping as Seungcheol walks to you with a cake in his hands, candles already lit and ready for you to blow off.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, though, running your fingers through your hair in a failed try to look a little less disheveled. Jeonghan jumps onto the opposite end of your bed, kneeling as he also sings and claps. Soonyoung, on the other hand, climbs onto the edge of the mattress just to sing louder and start throwing some improvised confetti. They continue hollering, clapping, and overall being a mess. Then you make a wish, blowing the candles out right after. Lazy smile on your face, clapping along with them.

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, guys. If it wasn’t for the gesture, I would’ve murdered all of you for waking me up.” You sarcastically say, accepting the knife Seungcheol hands you and cutting a small piece of cake.

“Aren’t you eating?” Chan asks from behind, you shake your head.

“You guys eat first. I still have to wash up.”

With that, Seokmin takes the cake away from you and exits the room with some of the guys following behind.

“We still have to go grocery shopping for tonight,” Seungcheol says.

“Yeah, I can go with Jeonghan.”

“I’ll go too. Jihye is going to come with us to be a guide,” Cheol adds. “Do you wanna join, Shua?” He asks the man standing next to him, the same one whose presence you hadn’t noticed until now. A sudden wave of embarrassment flows throughout you, considering the way you look, cheeks warming up when he smiles.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Okay then we’ll meet outside in thirty minutes,” Seungcheol adds. Stepping closer, he pats your head lovingly. “Happy birthday, once again.”

You mumble a “Thank you.” at him, eyes briefly glancing over at Joshua, who only gives you another one of his gentle and reassuring smiles before walking out of the room.

Jeonghan is quick to engulf you in a hug, a hand stroking the hair at the back of your head.

“You’re an oldie now.” He mutters against your head. “Can you feel your thirties breathing on your neck yet?"

You roll your eyes and push him away, glaring at him. He chuckles.

“Get out, I have to take a shower.”

“Right, sleeping beauty.” He leaves another caress on your head accompanied by a soft smile, “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, that dragon breath will even scare the demons away.”

Covering your mouth with your hands, your face is soon face filled with distress.

“Jeonghan!”

He laughs loudly, standing up and making his way towards the door.

“Just kidding, see you later.” He shuts the door closed behind him after a very obnoxious wink.

Air fills up your lungs with a deep breath, Jeonghan's comment sobering you up immediately and forcing you to hurry off the bed to get into the bathroom, take a shower and get dressed.

As soon as you’re ready, you grab a scarf from the closet, then your phone to make your way out of the cabin, not before stealing a very much needed piece of cake.

The sunlight greets you when you walk through the door, its usual warmth doing nothing in contrast to the freezing air that collides against the exposed skin of your face. You’re quick to wrap the scarf around your neck, boots dragging across the grassy ground as you pull your phone out to of your pocket to send Jeonghan a message.

A sigh leaves your lips, and you're shoving your phone back into your pocket the moment you find Joshua already standing there, hands in his pockets and fluffy hair shining under the sunlight.

He's craning his neck as soon as he notices your presence, smiling at you.

“Good morning, again.”

“Nice seeing you again, birthday girl.” He greets you back, stepping closer and patting your head sweetly. His touch is gentle, way more gentle than Jeonghan’s or any others. He’s careful and sweet. Still, you chuckle to not make it weird.

“It's like I'm a like a dog. Everyone’s been patting my head today.”

Joshua chuckles, a small cloud of fog escaping from his lips to remind you of the cold surroundings, even when you seem to have forgotten about it with the heat in your veins.

“I’m sorry, we are really annoying.”

Laughing, you shake your head.

“No, no. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You assure, wishing you could add how you’re especially fond of his gentle touches. “I know that’s your way of showing affection.” You add. Because that’s what you hope in your head, that somehow, he have affection for you.

“Of course.” A light and melodious chuckle resonates after his response, patting your head once again.

Silly little giggles are the only thing that come from you in result.

Then, he looks behind you. His smile grows and he lifts his hand up to wave. When you turn around, you see what he’s staring at.

Seungcheol and Jihye make their way towards the two of you.

“Ready to leave?”

“Yeah, we are.” You smile, rubbing your hands together in search of warmth.

“Bonding, aren’t we?” Seungcheol teases, making you smile.

“You could say that.”

You look at Joshua after responding, he chuckles, and your stomach flips.

“Alright then! Follow me, the store is nearby.” Jihye finally speaks, soon having the three of you following her lead.

The walk is quick and chill, something you’re grateful for considering how cold it is outside. When you arrive at the market, you grab a cart and start walking.

“Okay, so, what do we need?” You ask Cheol, who gives it a brief thought.

“Some drinks, snacks, plates, cups? Preferably plastic ones. Also, some trash plastic bags to clean in the morning.”

“Okay, the plasticware is here at the right. The snacks and drinks are on the opposite side, where the refrigerators are." Jihye explains, hands gesturing as she points to the directions.

“Good. I’ll go with Jihye and you can take care of the snacks and drinks.” He says to both Joshua and you. “Pick whatever you want, it’s your birthday.”

“I might take the whole store with me, then.” You joke, and he chuckles.

The four of you part ways, with you and Joshua going together. He takes you by surprise by sneaking one of his hands in between your arms. You look up at him, confused.

“I’ll do it.” He smiles. You accept the offer with a smile and move aside to let him take your place. Your heartbeats increase in speed at the simple act of chivalry, while you're also trying to distract yourself by eyeing up the shelves.

How’s it possible that he hasn't noticed the way his mere presence puts your whole world upside down?

Looking at all the different flavors, sizes, and textures of potato chips, Doritos, and sweets that are displayed, you decide to quietly contemplate the ones you're craving the most. Joshua's soft voice in the distance lets you be aware that he’s gonna go and grab some beers while you make up your mind.

Since you're such an indecisive individual, you start grabbing packs randomly. Salty, spicy chips, some peperos, and even some biscuits for a change. It's now your mission to find those celestial Honey Butter Chips you’d die for, and when you finally spot them, you groan because of fucking course they had to be placed at the top of the shelf and very much impossible for you to reach them.

How cliché is that?

Still, you try, because one can’t let one's pride be wounded, plus, you’re way too introverted to ask for help anyway. Standing on tiptoes with one arm holding the rest of the snacks, you stretch out your free limb and try to, at least, make one of the damned bags fall to the floor. You don't make it, though. The tips of your fingers barely graze against the bag.

“Need some help?”

The man's voice makes you freeze on the spot. Brain malfunctioning as soon as you feel his breath on your neck. His huge hand reaches for the chips, all of this in seemingly slow motion. You stay there, paralyzed and with your eyes glued to him.

Stepping back, he holds the bag of chips in front of him, wiggling it. His lips curl up sweetly.

“I got you.”

It's automatic, the way you start detailing every single feature of that gorgeous face. The smoothness and melanin of his skin, the roundness of his lips, and the intense but glowing irises of his dark eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone this pretty in your life.

He snaps you back into reality once he tilts his head, noticing you’ve been staring for too long. You mentally slap yourself, cheeks red in embarrassment at the possibility of making him uncomfortable. The only solution seems to be clearing your throat and looking away.

“Thanks, Shua.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, hand placing the item inside the cart and starting to move again, “You should’ve asked me, though, I was right there.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you. I could do it myself.” This is your insecurity speaking, or the first cheap excuse you have now decided to throw. Whatever suits best the situation.

Joshua can only laugh at that, moving his hand to place it on top of your head. You turn your gaze in his direction, like a deer in headlights as he smiles at you, leaning against the handle on his elbow.

“I know you can.” He coos, caressing the top of your head and sending sparks throughout your body. “Just let yourself be pampered today.”

A smile creeps up your face, finding it hard to look away but doing it anyway. The two of you start walking around the store, and somehow it’s like you two are partners in crime. Stealing glances and soft smiles, slightly bumping into each other. You feel it then, the way warmth radiates from him and embraces you. It’s not cold whenever he’s around.

Soon, you cross paths with Seungcheol and Jihye again. Make your way to the cashier and be ready to pay for everything to go back to the cabins.

On your way back, you spot an ice rink. There are just a few people skating at this time of the day. Your eyes light up instantly.

“Woah, I didn’t know there was one of these in here.” You mumble, your three companions standing next to you.

“Oh! That’s a popular spot for families and tourists to have fun. We love to bring our friends sometimes.” It's Jihye's voice that follows, explaining as you smile at the sight of some children having fun in their ice skates.

“I can imagine, it looks so fun.”

You're having a moment with your inner child. There will be time later to get to the point of embarrassment. That, of course, if you don't notice the way Joshua looks at you ever so fondly.

“Wanna skate for a bit?”

Unexpected. That's what Joshua's question is. You're looking back at him, tilting your head.

“I would, but there are things to set for tonight.”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Seungcheol assures then, smiling at you. “It’s your birthday, we will take care of everything. You can stay here and have fun.”

His words bring an instant grin to your face.

“Really? Should I?”

“Of course! It’s on the house!”

Oh, sweet Jihye.

“Oh no no, I can pay for it, you don’t have to!”

She shakes her head dismissively.

“That’s alright! The owners are family friends. Take it as a birthday gift.”

How can you not smile at her kindness?

“Thank you.”

“Alright let me grab these,” Cheol speaks, snatching the bags you’ve been holding. “Shua, take care of her and all of that.”

“Of course.”

Joshua looks at you then, a sweet and comforting smile being sent in your direction.

“I’ll see you guys in a while!” Then you say, as you wave at them goodbye.

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

Joshua nods his head for you to follow him, and of course, you do.

You certainly didn’t think this through. All things considered.

It shows the moment you put the skates on. Wobbly legs make their way into the rink. It’s not as easy as you imagined.

“I think this wasn’t a good idea.”

Now you're holding onto the walls for dear life, speaking to yourself, and reconsidering your choices in life. Then, you spot Joshua a few meters away. Skating on the ice as if it were nothing, his hands in his pockets, and the wind blowing his hair.

He then turns around in search of you, taking a few seconds to actually find you. As soon as he does, he laughs at the scene of you in the very corner.

He moves closer to you, and you’re so, so embarrassed you want the damn ice to melt and let you drown in it.

“You okay there?”

You want to let out the loudest whine, but you must act your age this time. You can't possibly make more of a fool of yourself in front of the man you like.

“Just peachy.”

You're clawing onto the brick wall, almost counting the seconds until you’re ass planted on the floor.

Joshua's big hand grabs one of your wrists, and you look at him with panic.

“Come on, let’s help you out.”

“Wait wait, I’ll fall, Joshua!”

There it is. The whine you desperately wanted to hold made it to the surface. It only makes him laugh even more.

“You’re okay, I won’t let you fall.” A bold statement for someone who clearly doesn't know the great amount of clumsiness encased in such a little body. He continues pulling you away from the wall and holding onto your hands. “Just relax, yeah?”

He starts skating backward slowly. You don't know how he manages to be so relaxed as you cut the circulation from his fingers. But it'll have to do.

“This was such a bad idea, I’m so embarrassed.”

He starts loosening the grip on your hands. Realization hits you instantly, eyes flying open as he distances himself from you.

"Don't you fucking dare, Hong Jisoo! Come back here!"

Chuckle after chuckle. Seems like you're his main source of comedy today.

“You can do it.”

“Joshua Hong, you better come and hold my fucking hands.”

It's a threat, but he doesn't see it as such, even with your gritted teeth. He only looks down at you, clearly amused.

“Come on, you’ll be fine. It's not that bad, is it?"

“Why are you doing this to me? My mistake was thinking you'd be better than Yoon Jeonghan but I was clearly wrong. I swear to god you’ll pay the hospital bills when my bones break, and I hope you feel guilty for the rest of your life, cause how can you do this shit to me, Jisoo. I absolutely despise the sh-”

“Stop ranting and look at yourself.”

And you do. With a chuckle, you slowly and clumsily move your legs.

“Oh, would you look at that? I’m actually doing it.” You laugh, looking up at him. The fondness in his eyes sends butterflies to your stomach.

He comes closer then, and grabs your hands once again.

“Let’s move a little faster.”

"Let's fucking not!"

He doesn’t even let you oppose before he’s moving quicker. You want to kill him for a moment, but then you're actually having fun, laughing together, very romantic.

Until you trip.

Thankfully, he’s quick to pull you onto him and wrap an arm around your waist to stop your fall.

Bodies pressing together, your hands placed against his chest, looking into his eyes.

“You okay?” He whispers, so close to your face you can actually see his condensed breath.

You only nod, and for some reason, the two of you stay like this for a few seconds. Looking at each other, his eyes traveling between your eyes and down to your lips.

You could swear he’s leaning in, maybe wishful thinking or whatever, but you can almost taste his lips.

But then he clears his throat and helps you stand straight.

“That was close.” He says with a small, nervous laugh. “Sorry if it was too much.”

Yeah, you're being delusional.

“No, it’s okay. It was fun.”

“Uh, well... It’s getting dark.” He continues, looking up at the sky, then looking back at you. “Should we head back?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He makes sure to help you get safely to the exit. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to go back to the cabins, that are sadly way too close to the rink… One hour alone with him wasn’t enough.

When you arrive, it saddens you to think that the special moment you shared with him is now over. Still, you wonder if what happened between you two back in the rink was really your imagination.

Your friends run to you as soon as they notice your arrival. They promise everything’s ready and all you need to do is get dressed and enjoy the party.

With a smile, you go back to your room and start getting ready.

Later at night, everyone is already gathered outside. The boys whistle at you teasingly when you get out of your cabin, gaining a roll of your eyes in response.

“Stop it, you perverts.”

“Lookin’ like a snack”

That's Soonyoung, now placing an arm around your neck with a proud grin. You quirk a brow, looking up at his face.

“What does that even mean?”

“He means you look hot,” Chan says, butting in.

“Ew,” Joking, you push Soonyoung away. He looks at you confused, so you laugh. “Just kidding.”

“You are a mean woman.” He exclaims in his usual dramatism.

Seokmin then comes and puts his arm around Soonyoung.

“I’ll take him. He’s a bit drunk.” With a wink, he starts pulling Soonyoung away, as he mutters “I’m not drunk!”

Chuckling, your eyes search for Joshua, who’s distracted and enrolled in a conversation with Minghao and Wonwoo. Your smile slightly falters, because somehow, you wish he had complimented you, too.

Chan then walks to you, placing an arm around your shoulder. You look at him in confusion, and he smirks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“So, how does it feel to be a noona?”

You snort.

“I’ve always been a noona to you.”

“You’re right. Didn’t know what to say, sorry.”

With another roll of your eyes, you push him away. The two of you laugh until you spot Jeonghan a moment later, and join him at one of the picnic tables.

Fresh steak is being grilled by Mingyu, music is being played by Vernon, and the rest are either drinking or sitting and having a chat. The two girls arrive not long after, shy at first but soon engaging easily in the conversation. You learn that they study online, Jihye is majoring in arts while Jangmi went into fashion design. Their parents have been renting cabins for years, and they plan to continue doing so when they are gone.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, you stand up from the picnic table to go for another beer, teeth clacking due to the freezing air. You get inside and grab an unopened can, switching it open and taking a swig. A grimace appears on your face at the cheap taste before turning around and going back outside.

You had planned to go back to the table, but your plans change when someone tugs at your wrist and stops you. You turn around and almost collide with Minghao’s figure. He grins.

“You look bored. Wanna dance?”

You smile.

“Sure.”

And that’s how it starts to get really fun, with the two of you dancing before at least another five of the boys join to dance along. It goes that way for a good part of the night, and admittedly, you don’t think you’ve had so much fun before.

These men’s antics are way too hilarious, as they keep clowning themselves without a care in the world despite the cold. That's when you decide it's time to go and grab Jihye and Jangmi by the hands, pulling them with you to join and dance, and they do, having fun when they feel comfortable enough.

You even see Joshua dancing along.

All of you dance until your limbs are exhausted, soon forcing you to excuse yourself. You grab another can of beer, this time deciding to take some fresh air on your own. Walking around until you find a nice spot on a little hill a few steps away, a bit quieter.

You sit on the grass, knees pushed up and arms hugging them to keep yourself warm. You have a nice view of the city illuminated with different colored lights, something unexpected since all you’ve seen so far is haze.

Taking another swig of your drink, you let the cold wind touch your face. Everything is peaceful and quiet at the moment. Except for your mind.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you see the time being three in the morning. No wonder you suddenly feel so raw and vulnerable.

Yearning that someone’s company so much is making your chest feel tight, and perhaps, your feelings aren’t just a simple crush at all.

A check on your social media shows the boys’ posts. There he is, with that beautiful smile of his that could light the whole town. Your heart flutters as you continue looking at his picture for who knows how long. A smile forms on your face, fingers grazing the shape of his face.

Then you hear someone’s footsteps approaching against the grass, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s right after. A subtle smile on his face when he sits right next to you.

“Hey, why aren’t you at your own party?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to be alone for a while and think.”

Jihoon hums with a smile, looking ahead.

“Sounds dangerous.”

A small giggle leaves your lips. It's silent, only the breeze can be heard as you collect your thoughts.

“Jihoon,”

“Yeah?”

You crane your neck to look at him.

“Why do I always feel like I want to let my feelings out at this hour?

He thinks about it, leaning back against his palms.

“Well, you know what they say. Everyone turns into their most vulnerable self in the middle of the night. It’s often the time when I get the inspiration to compose.”

“I’m starting to understand what it truly means.” You confess with a nod. “It’s like I’m being overwhelmed with emotions, and I just wish I could lift them off my shoulders.”

Jihoon sits up straight and places his hand on yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze that you appreciate.

“If you feel the urge to let them out, maybe they don’t need to stay hidden.”

“But... It could have consequences.”

He retracts his hand and sighs.

“Yeah, but every decision has a result. Anything you do or say might lead to something, you can choose to find out what it is, or keep it bottled up and let it slowly consume you.”

You process his words carefully, smiling afterward.

“No wonder you’re so great at writing songs.”

“Had to find a productive way to let everything out.” He explains with a chuckle. “Wanna head back?”

“Yeah, I’ll reach you in a minute.”

Jihoon nods and stands up, walking back to where his friends are.

Grabbing your phone once again, fingers scroll through your contacts until you find his number and open the conversation.

There. Consider the possibilities. It’s the middle of the night. you know you can’t trust yourself at this hour, but somehow you’d rather get it off your chest now that you're feeling brave.

That’s it. You’ve opened the gates to let your feelings escape. You hope it’s really worth it.

You're still starting to feel the relief of lifting that weight off your shoulders, but also the uncertainty still managing to shoot a sprinkle of insecurity straight to your brain.

Locking your phone and shoving it back into your pocket, you feel nauseous and your heart is heavy. You fucked up. You know you did.

Sighing, you rest your forehead against your forearms. Your eyes flutter shut as you desperately try to stabilize your breathing. The knot in your stomach becomes painful, your throat tight enough to make your airways feel constricted.

Then, it's time to stand up. You’re not really sure how you’re gonna face Joshua, or the rest of the boys, for that matter. Not now that you decided it was a good idea to confess your feelings through a text message.

However, you stop in your tracks the moment you see Joshua. The air is completely knocked out of your lungs as he silently approaches.

Locks of hair subtly blow in the wind, the moonlight makes his skin glow oh, so gracefully, and his pupils are surely putting the stars at shame. His lips are slightly agape, subtle clouds of fog escaping from his mouth, erratic breathing hinting how he must’ve hurried to come and find you.

It's an urge for you to say anything, but your brain can’t even formulate coherent sentences.

“Josh-”

An arm of his wraps around your waist, pulling you against him before his lips are enclosing yours in a kiss, interrupting whatever excuse you were planning on using.

Eyes flutter close instantly, hands clasping around his wrists. The kiss is soft, sweet, and too short for your liking. He barely pulls back, lips still inches away from yours, noses brushing when he says:

“I do like you.”

Joshua's thumb runs over your lower lip, staring down at you with half-lidded dark eyes. His smile appears right after, bright and contagious, a breathy chuckle falling from his mouth. You smile back, hands moving up to find purchase at the sides of his neck.

“Do you?”

Dumb question, but you can’t help but ask it.

“Yeah.” He promptly responds, pressing another chaste kiss against your mouth. “So much.”

“Lucky me.”

You're now the one who chuckles, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

Nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the way it feels to have his lips on yours. He's unsurprisingly a very skilled kisser. Knowing perfectly well how to move his lips slowly and delicious, the liplock accompanied by soft nips, sucks, and rhythmic movements against the other’s mouth. He tilts his head and pulls you further against his mouth, hands cupping your jaw. Your head spins in pure ecstasy.

The kiss breaks slowly, still in a daze when you detail the way his lips have turned red and swollen. His thumbs gently rub the skin of your cheeks, and it feels like you're about to vomit a whole zoo. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your body and embracing you tightly.

You bury your face in his chest and breathe him in. You embrace all of him and his sweet scent, letting your eyes close and humming contently as your fingers curl on the fabric of his coat.

“How are we going to explain this?”

“We don’t need to.” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Seems everyone knew what was going on, except me.”

That certainly makes you laugh, cause you've been way too obvious all along.

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it.” He agrees, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Wanna go back?”

He extends his hand palm up. You look down at it before intertwining your fingers, a smile on your face.

As soon as you arrive, the teasing begins.

“Took you both long enough!”

Seems like you ended up being the center of attention for a very different reason. Your cheeks burn as Joshua releases your hand and grabs your wrist instead, moving you to stand next to him, then placing his arm around your waist.

He's the one who decides to retort first.

“Yeah yeah, drop it already.”

“I was almost going to confess in her name at this point.” Jeonghan jokes, approaching the two of you.

“Still bitter you didn’t tell me shit,” Joshua confesses, your best friend shakes his hand and gives him a quick, brotherly hug.

“I could’ve, but she would’ve whined about it for years.”

A glare shoots in his direction straight from your eyes, smacking his chest, which makes him laugh.

“Who would’ve thought you can actually keep a secret?”

“Don’t test your luck, I still know plenty of things your new boyfriend would love to know.”

Joshua looks at you with a quirked brow, but you’re quick to grab his hand and start pulling him away.

“Anyway who wants to dance?!”

Joshua looks between you and Jeonghan, who's being left behind. He's clearly intrigued by the situation but follows you nonetheless.

You’ll remember to invite Jihoon to grab some food later.

It's way past five when you're in your bed staring at the ceiling. Everyone must be either passed out somewhere or getting ready for bed since the sun will be rising soon.

There’s only one thing on your mind now that you’re back in your room.

You grab your phone and unlock it, looking for the conversation you started a few hours ago. Fingers typing almost on autopilot, hoping he’s still awake.

Excitement fills your body when you place your phone back on the nightstand. It doesn’t take long until you hear a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!”

You soon see his face, his hand running through his slightly messy hair. Wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top that lets you admire his bare, toned biceps. Teeth sinking in your lip in anticipation, no one could ever look this good.

Scooting, you make room for him on your bed, lifting the covers so he can slide in. As soon as he does, you’re both face to face. It's so charming that even in his tired state, he smiles and places a soft kiss on your lips.

Burying your face in his neck and playing with the hairs at the back of his head, he hums, letting you know he appreciates the gesture before his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you even more into his.

“Hmm, you smell nice.” You admit, a breathy chuckle escaping from his mouth and making his chest vibrate against you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The sudden pet name sends a wave of sparks through your body, not to mention the arousal of knowing he’s using a pet name just for you.

“I could get used to you calling me nice things.”

Joshua pulls back to look into your eyes once again, a light smirk now forming on his lips.

“Yeah?”

Big hand lifts and runs its fingers through your hair.

“Yeah.”

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, but his eyes never leave yours. Smile slowly vanishing the more the tension in the room arises. His soft touches start to become bold, with a hand running from your neck to your shoulder, and from your shoulder down your arm.

“Your skin is so warm, so soft.” It's a mumble, barely audible, as his hand moves from your arm to your waist, gently pushing up the hem of your shirt and letting his hand travel through your curves.

His touch makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I like it when you touch me.”

“Hmm. You shouldn’t say that to me.” He whispers, mouth ghosting over yours as his hand travels upwards, finding your ribs. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Then don’t.”

His gaze darkens at your words, glued to yours in the barely illuminated room. Your body is now craving him, yearning for his touch after dreaming about him for so long.

Joshua then makes the next move, propping on his elbow, his upper half hovering over you.

You look up at him when his hand comes in contact with your cheek. His beauty is immaculate under the moonlight peeking through the windows. There's so much want being shared. The sight of him on you is so alluring it’ll be engraved in your memory for the rest of your life.

The necklace hanging from his neck looks so tempting, makes you want to curl your fingers around it just to pull him in and succumb to your true desires.

“Then remember that you asked for it.” He speaks again. “I’m going to worship every inch of your skin and kiss at every corner the way I want, give you whatever you wish while making you mine.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He drags his fingers down your skin, eyes shifting from yours to down your lips.

“Fuck.”

Before anything else can be said, he leans in and kisses you. His kiss once again takes over all your senses. So slow, open-mouthed, and passionate. Your hands fly to the back of his head to tangle in his soft locks, kissing him in a way he could feel how much you’ve wanted to have him.

His thigh spreads your legs to position himself between them more comfortably. His big hands roam down your neck, shoulders, and waist, making sure that his fingers dance along every single inch of your skin, setting it aflame.

You nip at his lip, tugging gently and making him groan. The tip of your tongue teases the area before he lets his own dive into your mouth to press, roll, and play.

Both can feel the arousal pooling in your underwear, the heat and the need are unbearable. You're clenching around nothing, an effect only his kiss has caused. Pathetic, but real.

Joshua's mouth starts traveling from the corner of your lips, to your jaw and down your neck. You bite your lip again, trying not to whimper and melt into a piddle. Tilting your head back to give him more access, the heaviness in your breath is enough to agitate him, and soon you feel the hard tent in his sweatpants pressing against your thigh.

A lift of your hips and a slight grind are enough to make him curse under his breath as his fingers claw onto your waist.

“Fuck.” He grunts before his tongue gently laps at the exposed column of your neck. You scrap at his scalp, tugging on his hair before grinding on him again. His kiss travels upwards, finding your ear and nibbling on the lobe, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispers, voice hoarse and lust-filled.

“Please, Joshua.” You can't help but beg, beg for him to give you more, pressing yourself against him as much as possible. “I need you.”

“I got you, baby. Let’s take your clothes off, yeah?”

He pulls back and slides his fingers under your shirt, lifting it and pulling it over your head before throwing it somewhere in the room.

His eyes get even more hooded at the sight of your bare breasts, pupils dilating as his hands start running down your bare torso, slowly, smoothly, the touch burning your skin. His palms enclose your chest, kneading gently, his thumbs run over the perked nipples, rolling them between his digits. You moan at the action, hands clasping around his biceps and nails clawing on his skin. He bites his lip as he watches every reaction of yours, finally lowering his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

A whimper falls from your mouth the moment his tongue starts playing with your sensitive buds. He looks up, not wanting to miss any expression of yours as he continues to suck, lick, and suck again.

“Fuck, Shua, that feels so good.”

He hums, moving to the neglected breast and repeating the process. His free hand runs down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your panties. Long middle finger soon sliding between your folds, pressing on the wet button and making you choke on a moan.

“So wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby.” He teases, pulling away from your nipple and smirking at you. His fingers start rubbing up and down, face hovering over yours, staring intently. He pushes two of his fingers into your hole, and your back arches against his chest.

His lips keep that smirk on, nodding at you while you moan. “That’s it. Feels good, yeah?”

You bite your lip and manage to nod.

Joshua starts pumping his fingers faster, moving his body from over you to get rid of your pants and your panties by dragging them down your legs. All of this without stopping with his ministrations.

There you are, in all your naked glory in front of him, so exposed and vulnerable, but not feeling scared because the way he looks at you is enough to make you feel so wanted.

“So pretty, all for me.” He leans down and grazes his lips against the skin of your tummy. Curling up his fingers, he grazes the perfect spot that makes you moan even louder. Eyes fixated on you with a quirked brow, followed by a breathy laugh. “If you keep being so loud, everyone’s gonna know how good you are at taking fingers, huh?”

You're really trying here, but you can't keep quiet. His teasing words only turn you on even more and make you clench around his digits, feeling your climax approaching at a rapid speed.

“Sorry.” You croak. “It feels so good.”

“I can tell, you’re clenching tightly. How are you going to take my cock?”

He seems to love teasing, as he places kisses on your thighs. Who would've thought? He's apparently not the same gentleman in bed, and you love it.

“I can do it. I will do it.”

Joshua stares at you with both pride and amusement. It’s almost enough to hide the fact that his dick is hard as a rock, but since he’s not trying to hide it, you promptly watch as his free hand moves to palm himself over his clothes.

“Then come for me, so we can make it happen.”

You should probably be more obedient, but you're so desperate you move your hands to the hem of his shirt to lift it up slightly and he quickly takes it off with a chuckle. The sight is hypnotizing, muscles divinely built for your hands to touch, smooth skin screaming to be kissed, and your mouth is watering.

Extending your hand, you run it over his torso, fingers dancing across his abs and chest as he sits on his ankles. The tight knot on your stomach soon releases with the sight of the naked man in front of you, and you reach your climax with chants of his name. Your back arching, legs shaking.

“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He praises, helping you ride out of your peak.

While you try to catch your breath, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips to lick them clean. You almost whimper again, 'cause how can someone like him, so sweet and gentlemanly, be so dirty and hot.

Your hands fly to the back of his neck and pull him into a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Your hands run down the soft skin of his back.

He breaks the kiss to look at you, panting, clearly way too aroused to keep holding back, so he pulls back and gets rid of his pants and boxers. There you see him, standing free and hard, pink at the head and leaking with arousal. You can’t hold back the wish to touch him, hand flying to wrap around his shaft to pump his length.

He lets out the prettiest moan you could’ve heard, which impulses you to apply more pressure on his shaft. Sitting up, your lips wrap around the head of his cock, gentle sucks and twirls of your tongue sending him into a frenzy. You tug up and down, pointed tongue running over the leaking slit, the salty precum filling your tastebuds.

Joshua looks down at you, ragged breath as he places his gentle hand on the back of your head. You lick a stripe of his length from the base to the head, looking up at him and pressing your thighs together in search of some relief when you witness the blissful expression on his face. Pushing his length further down your throat, you almost choke in hopes to hear more of his luscious sounds.

He's quick to pull you away from him, and you frown. He kisses your lips, licking on your tongue and making you moan against his mouth before he pulls back.

"Love that you're so eager to suck my cock, baby, but if I let you continue, I won't last."

What a filthy fucking mouth he has.

“Fuck, Shua. Please baby, please take me already.”

Joshua bites his already swollen lip, moving your hand away from his length to wrap it in his own and place it at your entrance.

“You ready?”

He starts slowly pushing himself into you as soon as you nod. The tightness of your clamping walls makes him choke a moan of his own, as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You take advantage of the moment to start placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder.

Soon he starts to move his hips, making your head spin with the rhythm of his thrusts. You cling onto his body, wrapping your legs around his waist to press him further into you as soon as he bottoms out. Joshua supports his body with one of his arms beside your head, the free one holding onto your waist as his pace starts quickening.

“Shit, so tight.” He moans, snapping his hips against yours and hitting all the right spots. Truthfully, you could cream again by just hearing the sounds he's making. “You were made for me, to take my cock.” He adds, jaw tightening as he moves his hand to interlace his fingers with yours.

“So good, so big.” You cry out. “I’ve belonged to you since the day I saw you.”

He's leaning down after a breathy curse, kissing you again, a bit sloppier, tongues playing as his hips continue speeding up.

You hope in the back of your mind that no one can hear the sounds of skin slapping against skin, however, you’re far too gone to really care.

“If I had known sooner…” He grunts, hand sliding down to find your clit to rub on it with the pads of his fingers. You scratch his back as he continues. “All this time pining over you but thinking you were not really interested.” He confesses, a particular thrust of his hips making you cry out again. “I deserve all the teasing.”

“Fuck, Joshua, I’m so close.” It's a whole trail of whimpers and moans that you let out between each sentence, pressing his sweaty body against yours. “Been harboring these feelings for so long, Joshua, fuck.”

You’re soon grabbed by the waist and flipped over to straddle him. His head against the headrest and hands on your hips.

“Ride me like that. Shit.” He orders in between moans, biting his lip as his hand roams up and down your back. “I wanna be in so deep.”

You roll your hips, bouncing every now and then as your hands find leverage on his strong and broad shoulders.

"Oh my fucking God.”

“Cum baby, and milk me dry. Show me how much you mean it.” He demands through gritted teeth, rubbing again on your clit. “How much you’ve wanted me all this time.”

And as if it was a magic spell, you come undone around him, legs shaking and back arching. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood, but you don’t care.

Your walls clench around him hard enough for him to cum right after you with a throaty groan. His hot seed spills inside you in thick spurts, painting your walls white. A few more sloppy thrusts and you’re soon collapsing onto his clammy chest. His heart is racing, but so is yours.

Joshua's strong arms wrap around you, soft caresses on your back as you remain connected for a while.

When the two of you manage to regain your composure, he pulls out of you and helps you lay on your back, turning around to look into your eyes. He looks at you silently, full of adoration at your flushed face.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head, smile remaining on his face.

"Just admiring."

A light snort escapes from you, not an offensive one, and he knows. He's well aware of your shyness, of the pink on your cheeks.

"Admiring? Me?" You chuckle, but admittedly flattered. "Have you seen yourself?"

His perfectly shaped brow quirks at that, before he quickly glances down at himself.

"Yes. You. Actually, I see myself every day in the mirror."

Clicking your tongue, you turn to your side, meeting his gaze.

"I mean..." You trail off. "I know to you it's nothing, but like, you're so so good looking. Like, incredibly so. And I'm not saying this because you're now my boyfriend or because I'm biased, I just genuinely think that if there was a human form for perfection, it'll look like-"

"I love you."

You stop ranting, looking up at him. He's just smiling, and you don't think someone has ever looked at you this way. With so much love.

"What?"

He chuckles, big hands moving to cup your cheeks.

"I said I love you."

You could cry. You think you might, and perhaps, you're actually tearing up, but it's well hidden by the grin on your face, same grin he starts kissing right after.

"I love you, too." You finally say in between kisses.

Once the kiss breaks, It's hard for you to keep your eyes open, but you try your best to look at his post-climax glory.

“That was intense, by the way. And the four letter word at the end? The cherry on top.”

Joshua smiles, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Just wait until we wake up in a couple of hours.”

Cheeks heating up instantly, you start laughing.

He leans down and kisses you one more time, much more slowly, then pulls back, placing a small peck on your forehead, then standing up from the bed.

You watch as he puts his sweats and boxers back on. Wrapping the sheets around your body as he goes to the bathroom and comes back with a towel. He doesn’t need to turn the lights on, considering that the sun is already up. He smiles at you and gently cleans you up, sharing a few kisses before he helps you dress again. A protest is what he receives, too tired to move, however, he just chuckles.

“Come on, love. It’s freezing cold. Let me dress you up so we can sleep, yeah?”

With a groan, you end up sitting up and letting him help you. Soon after that, you’re both falling asleep together on your bed.

“Okay, this was definitely a memorable experience.” Seokmin says, as everyone gets the luggage into the vans.

“It was fun!” Soonyoung agrees, placing his arm around Vernon’s shoulder.

“Well, except for Joshua hyung giving it to our favorite girl til early in the fucking morning.”

You smack Seungkwan across the head and he rubs the sore spot.

“Shut the fuck up. You heard nothing.”

“At least someone was getting laid,” Mingyu adds.

“Are we ready to leave? I really don’t feel like discussing someone’s sexual escapades this early in the morning.”

Of course, it'll be the dad of the group cutting the shit out.

You bid the two girls goodbye, promising to keep in contact and visit soon. thanking them for everything they did.

When everyone’s already inside their vans, you wave at the girls and go back to your seat. Fastening your seatbelt, you look at Jeonghan, who looks back at you with a smirk.

When he least expects it, you place a smooch on his cheek.

Taken aback, his hand moves to touch the place where the kiss landed.

“What was that for?”

You just shrug. “You’re my best friend and I love you.”

Jeonghan can only roll his eyes.

“I was going to tease you for getting some, but that was actually sweet.”

You respond with a chuckle, grabbing his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

“Of course you would, bestie.”

You soon meet eyes with Joshua, who smiles before grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing it to his lips and kissing on the back of it.

Then, Jeonghan suddenly grabs your face and places a loud smooch on your cheek, making you gasp and laugh out loud, disbelief written on your face.

“Just to remind Joshua he has to share. Don’t expect this gesture to happen very often, though.”

You laugh and rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, still holding both of your favorite boys’ hands.

2K notes · View notes