#whats wrong with you? whats your problem?

[hannieehaee]

DOES HE KNOW ?

18+ / mdi

summary: after being friends with lee chan for a good portion of your life, the boy you considered nothing but your best friend suddenly starts acting different, making you slowly fall for him. problem is, you have a boyfriend.

content: friends2lovers!chan, reader has a bf, almost cheating but not actually, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), wet dream (this is actually a huge point in the plot lol), masturbation (f receiving), dry humping, more oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.8k

a/n: rewrote this so many times but finally finished it!! i love writing channie so i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Something was clearly wrong with you.

Was Lee Chan hot?

Nothing made sense anymore, and it had been the case for a while.

You could date it back to a little over a month ago, at one of Soonyoung's usual gatherings. This had been where it all began, or more so, where it all ended.

For some reason unknown to man, that was the day in which Chan began courting you (his words, not yours).

After years of a solid friendship between the two of you, a not-so tipsy Chan cornered you at aforementioned party and began dancing with you. This was a common occurrence between the two of you. Despite having been taken for the past few months, you were still quite liberal about your touchy relationship with your best friend. However, what happened next what was truly out of the ordinary.

"Hey," he had whispered against your ear.

"Yeah?", you giggled, entertained by the boy.

"Wanna know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you," and with that, the dam had broken.

You froze against his arms, eyes widening. Though he could not see, as you were holding each other far too close to make eye contact.

Maybe he was drunk?

He interrupted you before you could respond. Chan pulled away from you to look into your eyes with a fully sober look in his face.

"I'm not drunk, and I know you have a boyfriend. And I know you only see me as a friend. But give me a few weeks, and I'll change both those things," was the last thing he said before giving you a peck on the cheek (yet another common thing in your relationship) and walking away with a confident sway in his step.

Ever since then, you had been bombarded by romantic gestures from your former best friend – former because you truly had no idea how you felt about him by this point.

Chan bought you flowers, – even when it was raining – had your favorite beverage at hand any time you so happened to see him, tied your shoelaces should they ever come undone, plucked loose eyelashes from your cheeks, tucked your hair behind your ear, placed his hand at the small of your back before crossing a street, walked you to and from home, looked at you with an indescribable sweetness in his eye, he ... He did everything any girl would need to be completely swooned (and then some).

You were beyond confused as to when this change had come about. As far as you knew, you were nothing more than best friends. When had Chan even begun liking you? What had changed?

"Oh. He's always had a thing for you," was what your mutual friend Soonyoung said when you first brought it up.

"What do you mean? We've been friends for years, he's never-"

"Yeah, duh. You never showed interest, what was he supposed to do? But yeah, he's crazy about you," added Seungkwan, sipping his drink nonchalantly.

You had decided to meet up with some of your mutual friends while Chan was at work. You needed at least five minutes with your other friends without Chan getting in the way with his flirting.

"It's kinda sick, actually," interjected Soonyoung once more.

You remained quiet for a while, thinking back to every interaction you'd ever had with Chan that may have revealed his feelings for you. Unfortunately, you kept drawing blanks all the while Soonyoung stole fries from your plate, disregarding your confusion at the situation.

"But why now?", you finally asked, slapping his meddling hand away from your food.

He shrugged, "Maybe he got fed up of watching you with that guy."

"He has a name, Soonyou-"

"None of us really care enough to learn it."

That much was true. None of your friends were fans of your current boyfriend. Or of any of them, to be quite frank. You had certain lack of skill at picking them, though this time around you felt confident about your current relationship. He was nice and respectful. Maybe a little bit of a square, but you liked to think you brought out the fun in him. This was also the longest relationship you'd ever had, giving you the grand total of three months in a exclusive relationship and a month and a half of a very prolonged talking stage that took place before he ever asked you out officially.

"Is this because I've been taken for longer than usual?", you tried to assert.

"Oh! That might be it, huh?", Soonyoung agreed.

"Well, I guess he didn't want you to break your streak of failed relationships," chuckled Kwan.

With a slap to his chest, you dropped the subject, deciding to ignore the slight acceleration of your heart any time you thought about Chan's crush for too long.

At first you found it to be a bit of a joke, but his affections quickly began to wear you down. It also didn't help how blatant he was about it, constantly flirting up a storm around your friends, not caring for their amused smiles at your flustered half-rejections of his advances. The only times in which he held back were the rare occasions in which your boyfriend would join your friend group in their outings. He could be reserved at times, not really clicking with your loud friends, so his presence was not a common thing.

Being honest, you felt kind of bad at the genuine excitement Chan's crush gave you. Though you weren't sure of your feelings for him at this point, his interest flustered you tremendously. You'd always known him as a pretty and charming guy, despite never really acknowledging such things. You understood why he got so much attention from girls, though you never thought too much of it. He was your best friend, you never had any motive to consider anything further than platonic feelings for him. But now that you were questioning your feelings, you felt as if you were kind of betraying your boyfriend.

Not to misunderstand, you had no desire of pursuing anything with anyone while you were in a committed relationship. You were just not that kind of person. But the mere thought of blushing at the words of a guy who wasn't yours (all while actually having a guy of your own) made you feel ashamed. Specially considering that you already had a very grand preexisting fondness for the guy in question.

God damn you, Lee Chan.

"So, when are you gonna drop this game and finally let me take you to bed?", he whispered cockily against your ear.

He was always so goddamn confident about it; a trait you always liked about him but were beginning to detest.

As per usual, you simply jokingly groaned at him and pushed him away in a manner far too light to be considered serious.

"Fuck off, Lee Chan."

With a giggle, he stepped away, usual pep in his step as present as ever.

"I'll get you another drink, 'kay, pretty?", you lost him in the crowd after that.

You'd gone drinking with your friends yet again, though this time at a distant friend's house party. Your boyfriend was absent once more due to his personal disdain for such outings. He was simply not much of a social drinker, which was fine! It just bothered you at times how often he chose staying in rather than going out with you.

Despite your rejections of Chan, you felt embarrassed to admit that you loved the thrill of his interest in you. Never had you ever had someone so shamelessly after your affections despite your lighthearted refusals. It made you feel wanted and powerful. It felt specially good when it came from a guy as handsome and charismatic as Chan; a guy who could have basically any girl all thanks to his unbelievable charisma.

Yet he wanted you. He was after you.

The guy you knew most was currently infatuated with you.

Yeah, you did need that second drink.

"Where's your guy?"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from behind you.

You turned around to find Vernon leaning back against the wall, a smirk on his face at having watched your encounter with Chan.

"Shut up," you walked over to recline on the wall next to him, deciding to people-watch alongside him.

"It was a genuine question," he claimed, handing you a sip of the beer he'd been nursing.

"He's working again," you sipped, handing it back to take turns as you waited for Chan to bring you your drink of choice.

"And Channie?"

"What about him?"

"Does your boyfriend know?", he asks, more curious than actually interested.

Men, nosy as usual.

You groan, "Don't ask me that, Non."

"C'mon! Has he not noticed the way Chan's been after you these past few weeks?", he seemed far too entertained by the subject.

"Of course not! Chan's kept his distance around him, but ..."

"But?"

You turned your head to him, back still leaning against the wall, "I don't know!"

"Well, do you like him? Channie, I mean."

"It's- I like the attention."

"And him?", he pressed.

"He's starting to wear me down," you admitted.

Vernon chuckled into his red solo cup, "It's cute."

"What is?"

"The back and forth, the 'will they, won't they.' But if you ask me, I think they will."

"I have a boyfriend, Non," you grumbled, not entirely convincing in your tone.

"Yeah, but are you guys even friends? Wouldn't it be better to date someone who you actually like?"

"Stop doing PR for Chan. It's not like he needs it," you grumbled, already uses to this back and forth with many of your other friends – all of whom were rooting for Chan.

"Fine. But get out of here. Your guy's probably looking for you."

"My guy's not here."

"I meant Channie, now go!"

You grumbled again before walking in the direction in which Chan had left, knowing he'd likely still be in the kitchen attempting to fetch you a drink.

It didn't take you long to find him, nor did it take you long to spot the girl standing next to him, seemingly flirting up a storm. Chan didn't seem too deterred by this either. More than anything, he appeared to he reciprocating.

Maybe this was why you and Chan started off as friends and remained so for the years you'd known each other. He always had a girl clinging onto him one way or another. Though he didn't date much, he sure enjoyed swooning girls whenever he could.

You'd always been very strict about being exclusive with whoever you dated, never wanting to compete for someone's attention or engage in prolonged talking stages. This was something you differed in with Chan. He was quite the opposite, engaging in situationships that never really led anywhere. As his friend, you never really cared much for this. If it worked for him, then that was that. However, now that he was supposedly attempting to pursue you, – despite you being in a relationship – you couldn't help but scoff at the sight of Chan still entertaining any girl that'd show interest in him.

You almost turned around and left, but were promptly stopped by the man himself, who spotted you before you could take one step and disregarded the girl immediately. The girl scoffed in your place, clearly put off by Chan's attention being taken away so easily.

"Babe!", he called out, one drink in each hand, as he approached you, "Sorry I took so long, the line was crazy."

Immaturely enough, you rolled your eyes and grabbed the drink from his hand, ignoring his statement as you sipped it. You really had no right to be jealous of Chan talking to other girls. You were taken, and you weren't even interested in Chan. Were you? Still, you disregarded those thoughts and allowed the bitterness to cloud your mind and began walking away from the boy.

"Huh?", a question mark physically manifested itself above Chan's head as you began walking away from him, "Baby? Wait, where are you going?", his arm managed to reach you before you got far enough and softly turned you around to face him.

The two of you were still standing far too close to the people crowding the kitchen, however, so Chan assessed that it'd be better to move to a quieter spot in order to properly check in on you. With a decisive nod to himself, he grabbed onto your hand and walked you over to an empty hallway before turning to you again.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone? Did someone-"

The concern in his eyes seemed very genuine, making you feel bad for being such a brat at the mere sight of Chan interacting with another woman. You had never had an issue with your best friend being around other women. Hell, you never even cared whenever he would occasionally ditch you for other girls. The two of you were simply best friends. You had always rooted for him in his romantic life, even encouraging him with it.

But things had drastically changed as soon as he began showing interest in you.

It was like his sudden interest had unlocked a part of you you hadn't known was there. It had given you this brand new possessiveness you had never held over Chan before; a possessiveness you didn't even feel for your current boyfriend.

And it made you feel embarrassed. Tremendously so. It also made you feel like a hypocrite. Here you had a guy who was clearly extremely into you, yet he had made no comment nor expressed any disdain over the fact that you already had a guy. Chan had never expressed any type of jealousy over any of your past relationships. Despite having liked you for the entire duration of your friendship (information you were unsure Chan was aware you knew), Chan always respected your relationships and even tried to befriend any guy you brought along. Yet you couldn't hold back your bitterness at him showing interest in someone else; interest you now felt should be reserved only for you.

The hypocritical nature of your feelings made you look down in embarrassment as you interrupted Chan's inquiries, clarifying that nothing was wrong.

"No, Chan. I'm fine, I swear. Just a little tired. I, uh, thanks for the drink."

"Hey, are you sure?", he lifted your face with a finger to your chin, making you hold eye contact with him.

It was quite insane how this was not even meant as a flirtatious move, but rather a demonstration of his platonic worry for you. Yet your heart sped up anyways.

"I'm fine, Chan! It's just the crowds. You know how I get. Nonnie told me to go look for you and there were so many people in the kitchen, and then I couldn't come up to you because of that girl and-"

Your rambles were interrupted by an exclamation mark practically manifesting itself above Chan's head, with the sudden realization of your jealousy hitting him.

"Oh?", he tilted his head and leaned in a bit closer as a grin began making its way onto his face, "'That girl'?", he repeated.

"Chan-"

He got closer to you, now cornering you against the hallway wall, still giving you space but blocking your view of anything other than him.

"I'm sorry, baby. Did that bother you? Hmm? Me talking to some other girl?"

"It's not like that! I just-"

"It's okay. You can admit it. I won't judge you," except his smirk was nothing but condescending.

"Chan! I-"

"But that's kinda funny, though. Isn't it?", he chuckled to himself.

"W-what is?," you stammered at his sudden shift in mood.

Though he was still far too close for a friend to be, and he was still leaning into your touch, his tone had shifted to one a bit more cynical in nature.

"You're jealous? Baby, you have a boyfriend."

"I do, and-"

"So what's there to be jealous about? You've got your guy. Yet you're looking my way? When you've been rejecting me all this time?", he leaned even closer, almost breathing right against your nose, eyes hooded as they bore into your own, alternating between your eyes and lips in a somewhat teasing manner.

"I-I'm not jealous. Just ... Why flirt with me if you're after other girls too?", you made the mistake of asking.

"Oh, baby. I'm not looking at anyone else. Not my fault you're so possessive you can't even stand other girls looking at me," you knew he was simply teasing you, knowing full well that you were not the possessive type. But his words carried a slight weight of truth behind them.

You had no reason to feel any type of possessiveness over Chan. Yet you still felt uneasy at the thought of Chan's eyes on anyone who wasn't you. Now that you had a taste of his attention you wanted it all to yourself.

"I just have one question," he whispered, far too close to you.

You nodded at him to continue, wide eyes on his own.

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you like me back," his eyes went down to your lips again.

"Chan. Stop. I-I'm not gonna cheat on my boyfriend," you huffed, avoiding his eyes – which was quite hard at his close proximity.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, with your eyes occasionally dropping to his lips. But it was fine, since his own were also on yours – though his expression was more triumphant than anything, while yours revealed your nerves. Had you been in a less restricting position, your thighs would've instinctively pressed together at the thoughts that were suddenly running through your mind at his proximity, but thankfully the situation didn't drag long enough for your lust to reveal itself.

He finally pulled away, smirk still on his face, "I'd never ask you to do that, baby. 's just nice to know my plan's working," he chuckled.

"What plan?"

"I'm wearing you down. You want me."

Unfortunately, you had no rebuttal, knowing that Chan had won this round. Even if you denied his statement (which you had half the mind to do), he had caught you red handed. You had whined about not having his full attention just like a petulant child would. Nothing you said would save you from that.

You managed to move on from that quite quickly, finding Soonyoung and Kwannie just a few moments later and using them as an excuse to move on from the way in which Chan had cornered you. You spent the rest of the party pondering Chan's words. Did you actually want him? Or was it just that you wanted him to want you?

Now you were stuck with embarrassing moisture between your thighs and countless doubts hanging over your head.

"C-Channie! Oh, Channie, fuck!"

Your cries of pleasure were unparalleled as the pretty boy you liked to call your best friend slurped at your cunt like a starved man.

You weren't sure how long he had been at it, nor were you sure how you'd ended up in this situation, but you had no complaints. His tongue between your thighs was pure heaven, especially with the pathetic whines the boy kept letting out at your taste.

"'sso good, princess. Cunt's so tasty ... Been wanting it since I met you ... Been waiting for you for years," he mumbled against your cunt, getting back to licking and sucking immediately.

While your heart was unsure what to make of such a heavy statement, your body responded with desperation. To have a man yearn for you like that for years was doing wonders for your cunt. It made you gush like crazy, beginning to grind against Chan's face in such a depraved way.

"Just like that, fuck. Fuck my face just like that," he groaned, the vibrations of his voice causing you to grind even harder against him.

"C-Channie! It's so good ... So fucking good, oh!"

He seemed to get off on your praise, you realized, as you felt ruckus on the bed beneath you caused by Chan canting his hips against your mattress and moaning incessantly into your cunt. The knowledge of your taste alone making Chan lose himself in such a way was enough to drive you towards your high, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Gonna make me cum, princess. Got such a pretty fucking pussy," he managed to breathe out despite exerting all his efforts into fucking the mattress.

Surprising to no one, Chan claimed your orgasm on his tongue just moments later, somehow managing to talk you through it and make the experience even more swoon-worthy than it already was. Chan had managed to make you feel a way no one had ever before, making you ache for him with just his words.

It had all ended far sooner than you would've liked, but it was fine. You knew that with a few kisses to his ear Chan would give you whatever you wanted without question.

Yet before you could even get to enjoy the entirety of your high, it was abruptly taken from you the moment your alarm began ringing, awakening you from what you hadn't realized was just slumber.

Waking up from a wet dream was already embarrassing enough on its own, but waking up from a wet dream about your best friend whom you swore you weren't into like that was a new level of low.

As much as you tried to brush it off as some sort of fluke or meaningless dream, you knew better. You had never thought of Chan in such a way, much less imagined him in that context, so it was safe to say that Chan had been right. His plan was working.

~

The following hours were spent on alert (and still incredibly horny). You thought about calling up your boyfriend to help you out, but the thought in itself felt dirty. How could you ask your boyfriend to take care of a problem caused by your best friend? There was that, and the fact that your brain would probably not be satisfied by your boyfriend right now.

You needed to get Chan out of your system.

You knew that if you called up Chan and explained your problem to him he'd come running immediately, no questions asked as he helped you relive your dream. Such a thought had your head spinning and your knees feeling weak. Except you had a moral compass that was preventing you from doing so. So, you spent the next few hours extremely sensitive and attempting to take care of yourself in any way you could think of.

Unfortunately nothing compared to your dream. Nothing felt as warm and loving as Chan had felt. There was not a single thing that could bring back that feeling of want Chan had towards you; a feeling you were so desperate for. This led you to spend the rest of the day sexually frustrated, unable to reach your high as you felt something was thoroughly missing.

Even when your boyfriend stopped by to see you after work, things had gone awry. You'd received him at the door in a desperate manner, dragging him in with you and inciting him into fucking you. You didn't care if you had Chan in mind anymore, you just needed some satisfying release. Sadly, your boyfriend did not match your energy, opting to slow you down and have his way with you in his own way. This led to yet another unsatisfying release to add to today's tally. You were unsure if you could even call it a release, as it felt entirely underwhelming and had been mostly accomplished by your own hand.

Going to sleep, still sexually frustrated, you cursed at yourself for letting Lee Chan get in your head.

Spending time with Chan after your incident was nothing less than incredibly awkward.

Despite Chan being fully unaware of what had gone down in your subconscious, you couldn't help the blush that would take over your face any time the two of you made eye contact. He had all the power at the moment.

You had also made the mistake of discussing the occurrence with your closest friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. Purposely, you had not mentioned the name of the culprit behind your wet dream, but it had not been hard for your nosy friends to figure it out on their own.

"You had a sex dream about Channie?!", Soonyoung had all but whispered, causing some old ladies across the diner to look your way in judgment.

Fortunately not too many people were present at the diner you were currently hanging out at, but it didn't really help the embarrassment you felt at the words even being uttered. This was the only time in which you could see your friends without Chan's presence, so you couldn't be too picky about the setting.

"Soonyoung! Shut the hell up!", you whisper-shouted at him, throwing a rolled up napkin at him in punishment, "I never said it was about Chan."

"Please. Who else would it be about? Sure as hell can't be about your vanilla boyfriend. And anyone else like Mingyu or Wonwoo would be too obvious for you to be so embarrassed about it. It has to be Chan," Seungkwan butted in nonchalantly.

"I- It's- my boyfriend is not vanilla!"

"You didn't deny it! It was Channie!", Soonyoung was far too excited at having guessed correctly.

Giving up, and knowing you needed some external input on your predicament, you nodded in shame, admitting to your sin in order to maybe get some advice on the situation.

"What do I do? I ... I can't stop thinking about it. Fuck, I can't even look at Chan in the eye anymore."

"Was it good?"

"Soonyoung, stop! That's not the point."

"He has a point. Not really worth ruining your relationship over some mediocre head," argued Seungkwan.

"Shut up! It- Fuck, it was so good," you groaned into your hands in utter embarrassment.

"Dude I knew Chan would be good at head. It's in his eyes. I'm telling you, people with those big doe eyes are freaks in bed," Soonyoung couldn't seem to stop spewing his headcanon of Chan at you.

"Or at least dream-Chan is," agreed Kwan.

"What do I do?! It won't leave my mind. I- I've already tried fucking it out of my head, but even then-"

"Hold on. You had sex with your boyfriend while thinking about Chan? Does he know?"

"Soonyoung!"

"Man, he'd pass out if he heard that. Do you know how many time's he's walked us through his sex dreams?", cackled Soonyoung.

This obviously caught your attention, making you widen your eyes and fastening the speed of your heartbeat.

Chan had had sex dreams about you too?

I mean, it should've been obvious considering the amount of dirty innuendos and straight-up proposals he's given you these past few weeks, but you had never actually thought about it in depth.

Fuck.

Chan wanted to fuck you.

The thought made you gulp and press your thighs together, actions your friends thankfully did not catch onto.

"He, uh, he's told you about his sex dreams about me?", you asked with a complete lack of confidence in your voice.

"God, don't even get him started," grumbled Seungkwan, slurping his almost empty americano before continuing, "It's Hoshi who keeps instigating him into telling us every excruciating detail."

Soonyoung nodded in confirmation, "Dude, he gets nasty," he whispers as if it was a sin to utter out loud – despite having previously aired your own sex dream to the whole diner.

God, were you interested in knowing more. But you couldn't blow your cover. You were far too horny and pent up already. Hearing about how your sexy (yes, you were at the point of shamelessly admitting it) best friend giving it to you in the nastiest scenarios imaginable would probably make you combust in front of your best friends and every other unsuspecting person in the establishment.

With dry lips and wetness already gathering between your thighs, you simply hummed in acknowledgment and moved on with the conversation, eventually managing to change subjects without giving away your cover.

~

Never in your life had you ever had such urgency in getting home.

Upon locking your front door, you immediately ran to your bed, undressing yourself in the process and getting ready to rid yourself of the ache between your legs that had been bothering you since that wretched dream.

You knew that you wouldn't be able to satisfy yourself as well as you wanted without Chan's aid (you'd tried endless times just a few days ago), but trying was better than nothing.

Getting yourself started was easy. All you had to do was remember the very vivid image of dream-Chan slobbering between your legs, begging you to use his face however you saw fit and claim your orgasm as if it were a god-given right.

But imagination wasn't enough.

You had half the mind to call up Chan right there and then and crying to him to please come and take care of you. The repeated knowledge that Chan would likely come to you with no question nor judgement made the task of holding back even harder. It made you cry at the frustration your fingers were giving you; they just weren't enough. Not even after the endless attempts these past few days had you been able to calm the fire between your legs. The last time you saw your boyfriend – just after your damned sex dream – had been yet another failed attempt. It seemed like nothing could truly get you there.

That's when you thought of the perfect thing.

Chan always had the tendency of either taking you home himself or sending you a short voice message to ensure you had arrived home safely – always insisting on one in return. This message always contained Chan's raspy voice after a long day of shenanigans, usually calling you one pet name or another as he checked in on you.

No matter how ashamed you felt at it, the burning between your legs did seem to diminish upon turning up the short voice message he had left you just last week. His words, accompanied by his voice, did wonders for your imagination.

"Hey, babe", it had started, "Just wanted to check in on you and make sure you got home okay. Need you to send me a message back as soon as you can, yeah?"

This had been enough to start you up again, the usual 'babe' nickname and the soft command causing an effect on you it never had in all your years of friendship.

"You looked so pretty today," he sighed, "Did I tell you that? Need to be telling you that every day. You're gorgeous. Don't even know how such a pretty girl puts up with us," he chuckled.

Oh, Channie ...

He'd always been so sweet to you. Such a fun friend, but also such a sweet boy who'd always coddle you and treat you better than anyone else. You could almost picture him swooning at you as he reminisced on the pretty dress you'd worn that day.

You couldn't think of anyone else who thought of you that fondly. Yet you were currently too busy using an unsuspecting Chan to get off after days of being pent up due to that same boy.

"Miss you already, gorgeous. Should've taken you home myself, ugh," he groaned at himself, "That way I would've at least gotten a goodnight kiss," he paused, chuckling, "on the cheek, of course."

It was probably just your horny brain talking, but had Chan been in front of you at that moment, you would've done far more than just kiss him. You didn't know where all this sudden lust for Chan had come from, but that dream had come with an epiphany. Maybe you'd been attracted to your best friend all this time.

"'Kay, Imma leave you now, okay, princess? Message me back when you're ready for bed, alright? You know how I worry. Goodnight, beautiful. I love you," he ended the recording with a soft kiss.

The short voice message wasn't enough to work yourself up to an orgasm, so you revisited as many of his old messages as you could, recalling some specially soft ones he'd send you where he'd call you all the petnames known to man and praise you enough to make you blush.

You also thought about what Soonyoung had said, how Chan's dreams about you would get nasty. You thought of every nasty thing the man was probably itching to do to you. You thought of how easily you'd let him if he was here at this moment.

Throughout it all, you pictured Chan and the actions that would accompany his words if he were in the room with you. You imagined the soft touches and the praise he'd spew endlessly at you. The eyes full of genuine love – mixed with a little lust – that would watch you as you came undone.

And come undone you did. It wasn't as good as it would've been with the real Chan present and taking care of you, but it sure beat the multiple unsatisfying orgasms you'd had in the past few days.

"We broke up."

Those were your opening words upon approaching the usual table you shared with your friends.

This time Seokmin had decided to join.

"You what?"

"Because of Chan?"

"Really?!"

All responses were delivered simultaneously, making you groan as you sat down, knowing you were in for a lengthy interrogation from the three nosiest men you knew.

You covered your face in your hands and exhaled before unmasking yourself and facing your friends with seriousness in your demeanor.

"Didn't feel right when I kept thinking about Chan," you started, "He understood, which made it worse. Said he'd been too busy with work lately, was thinking of taking some time apart anyways."

It had been a few days since your wet dream about Chan. After your lonely escapade the night after – the night with the cursed voice memos – you had gone over to your boyfriend's place to end it. You hadn't hung out much in the past few weeks. There had been no spark for a bit. The goodness of your short-lived relationship was probably just the honeymoon period, which ended around the same time Chan decided to make his interest on you known.

It was all too much to deal with, so breaking it off seemed easier.

"Wow," aired Soonyoung.

"Yeah. Wow. How are you feeling?", asked Seokmin.

"I'm fine. Just, you know, feel kinda bad. I didn't want to be with someone if my heart wasn't fully in it," you mumbled, a little solemn.

"Does Channie know?"

"God, no. I've been avoiding him since," you eyed Kwan and Soonyoung, "uh, you know," you didn't want Seokmin to be yet another one of your friends to know about your sexual escapades in your slumber.

"Oh, you mean the sex dream?"

Your stare turned menacing, facing the only two possible culprits, "Who told him?"

"It was Soonie!", Seungkwan revealed immediately.

"Wait! No, I-"

"Did you tell anyone else? Oh my god, does Chan know?!"

"No! I only told Seokmin, I swear! He asked why we were meeting while Chan's working, so I told him."

"Don't worry, I won't tell. Scout's honor."

Seokmin held an innocent pinky towards you. Already done with the situation, you halfheartedly intertwined pinkies and moved on.

"So ... Channie?", Seungkwan asked once more.

"What about him?", you feigned curiosity.

"Playing dumb isn't gonna help things."

"What, do you want me to tell him about my dream?"

"That'd be kinda weird, man, I don't know," added Seokmin.

"I think it'd be hot."

"Soonyoung, shut up!", you told him for the nth time since the subject of your 'crush' on Chan had first come up.

Seungkwan side-eyed them before continuing, "No, but you like him, don't you?"

Did you? Did you actually like Chan?

Before Chan had showed interest in you, you had never considered it. Ever since you'd met him, Chan had always been nothing more than your best friend, your partner in crime. You had never felt as safe and comfortable with anyone as you had with Chan, and that was still the case. No boyfriend had ever made you feel as at ease as Chan always did.

His crush had brought out something in you. Had it been any other friend who suddenly revealed their feelings for you, you would've reacted in horror. But it was different with Chan. For some reason, you didn't feel put off by it, nor did you try to chase him away for his feelings for you. It wasn't one of those situations where the boy suddenly decides to pursue his girl-friend and ruins the friendship altogether. This had opened pandora's box for you, making you realize that Chan's affections would've always been welcomed by you.

Even if you jokingly rejected him or told your friends you had a boyfriend, it was all simply due to your moral compass. You weren't a cheater, so you couldn't take Chan too seriously even if you wanted to. But now you were single, and now you had to figure out if you really wanted Chan in the same way he wanted you.

"I know that I want him, but I need to make sure that I want him, you know? I'd never want to hurt his feelings or jeopardize our friendship just because I was horny one day."

"So you're scared it might just be that you're sexually attracted to him?"

"No, it's just ..."

"You want to know whether or not you like him and not just the attention he gives you."

It was surprisingly Soonyoung who had deciphered it.

"Y-yeah. Fuck. Does that make me a narcissist?"

"Nah. It's better to be sure. You've been friends with Channie since forever. It makes sense for you to wanna be cautious."

"You should probably stop avoiding him, though. He's, uh, starting to notice," revealed Seokmin.

"Yeah, he won't stop whining. Just put him out of his misery already," said Soonie.

"Okay, I guess I'll talk to him next time I see him."

You didn't really feel ready for it, but the time to confront Chan would have to come sooner or later.

Next time you saw Chan was actually far too soon for your liking. Just the following day you found yourself at yet another house party; a small gathering among your friend group and some other people. It wasn't anything too big, so you knew that you'd inevitably bump into Chan.

It had only been about a week since you last spoke to Chan, but that had been a week too long. Throughout the duration of your friendship, the longest you ever went without constant communication had been three days, which had been a total accident on both your parts. The two of you would at least text once a day, even coming to have an unbroken streak of endless texts.

Fuck, you missed him.

Chan obviously must've noticed your lack of communication these past few days. You weren't even sure why you had decided to keep him in the dark. It wasn't just the wet dream (which was still haunting you, but had moved to the back burner for now), and it wasn't your breakup either. You were just confused about your feelings for the boy, but punishing him by icing him out had been far too much. Now you felt guilty.

You felt extra guilty when you finally spotted Chan across the party, sitting alone on a loveseat while he attempted but failed at discreetly looking over at you. He looked like a wounded puppy as he did so, pout on his lips and furrowed brows. It made you want to kiss the pout right off his face.

It was easy to tell that he wanted to approach you, but was simply trying his hardest to respect the boundary you had seemingly put up out of nowhere. This meant that you'd have to be the one to talk to him.

Then you took action, throwing away the drink you had been nursing and walking over to him, ignoring his shocked expression when you wordlessly grabbed his hand and pulled him to an empty room in the shared house. You locked the door and turned to him, unsure on what to say first.

Chan was the now the one to surprise you, immediately trapping you in a bear hug and burying his face in your shoulder, loudly breathing you in.

He didn't let go for a couple of minutes, even nudging you to keep hugging him back when you went to pull away.

When he finally let go, you finally had the chance to look at the boy for a moment.

Yeah, you liked him.

You had missed him far too much to be able to deny it.

You liked Lee Chan, and you were ready to let it be known to the world.

But then he started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," he started, utterly confusing you as to what he could be apologizing for, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I, fuck. I must've crossed a line with my flirting, and I never meant to. You're my best friend, and I need to respect you, an-and I need to respect your relationship. I thought that maybe somehow I could get you to see me as more than a friend, but it was stupid of me to assume you'd drop your boyfriend just because your dumb friend suddenly had a crush on you – which, uh, isn't the case, by the way," he looked down, embarrassed, "I've liked you since we met. So much. I assumed Hoshi must've told you by now. Anyways, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll stop. I will never bring it up again, just, fuck, please don't be mad. I'll take anything you give me. If friendship is what you want then I'll be the bestest friend you've ever had, just-"

It was impossible to take his senseless rambles anymore. You were getting too emotional at the thought of having put Chan through this turmoil when you had spent the last few days tending to the ache he had caused between your legs and subsequently breaking up with your boyfriend in order to figure out your feelings. It made you feel equally embarrassed and ridiculous, yet the effects of your silence made you begin to tear up at the apologetic boy in front of you.

Interrupting him, you hugged him again, somehow even tighter this time. This thankfully shut him up, allowing his body to lose its tension and letting himself become limp in your hold.

After some more moments of silent hugging, you were the one to pull away this time, giving him a sympathetic smile as you raised a hand to caress his cheek. It made you soon the way in which he leaned against your palm and gave you the sweetest smile known to man.

"Channie, you did nothing wrong ... I'm sorry for cutting you off like that, that was so wrong of me. I should've talked to you and told you how I was feeling. I wish I was half as confident about my feelings as you are, but I just felt so-" you paused, not knowing what you were even trying to express, "a-and then I just started avoiding you to avoid my feelings all together. I'm sorry."

"No, you have nothing to apologize for," he put his hands on your shoulders to ensure you were understanding his point, "I should've respected your boundaries. I never even should've tried to pursue you when I know you have a boyfriend, it was so-"

"had", you clarified, shy.

"what?"

"I had a boyfriend. We, uh, we broke up a few days ago."

"You ... Fuck, was it because of me?"

His eyes were like saucers, but you could see a small hint of a smile that he quickly wiped off when he realized the context of the situation.

"I want to say no, but ... yeah, I did."

Still feeling unbelievably ashamed at the memory of what had first led you to consider breaking up with your boyfriend, – a stupid wet dream you still couldn't get out of your mind – you avoided eye contact. Now you knew that that had only been the catalyst of realizing your feelings for Chan, but it still didn't help matters much, specially knowing that Chan would find out sooner or later.

"God, I'm so so sorry-"

"Chan! Stop apologizing! It wasn't because of anything you did. I just ... I realized some things these past few weeks and .. I realized we weren't really right for each other," you took a breath, "Not when you were all I could think about."

"Y-you ...?"

"I'm going to be candid, okay? Just, please don't interrupt."

He nodded, giving you the green light.

"A little over a week ago, uh, something happened. And then I couldn't keep you out of my mind. I tried talking to the guys, I even tried using my boyfriend as a distraction, but nothing worked. I started avoiding you because I just felt so awkward realizing I was beginning to develop feelings for you. It was wrong of me, but I needed time. I broke up with him because it didn't feel right to be with someone else while you were the only person I wanted around."

Saying it felt like a breath of fresh air. Not only were you admitting it to Chan, but also to yourself. Your friendship with Chan had never been your average friendship. Even before he had decided to begin shamelessly hitting on you, he had always been the sweetest and most caring boy you'd ever met. Sending you voice memos every time you went home alone, always being in charge of getting your drinks, driving you wherever you wanted, being overly affectionate with you any time he felt you might've needed it. The boy had always been the perfect match for you, you just couldn't grasp it until he began to literally shove it in your face.

"What made you realize it?"

Not expecting him to question you, but rather just accept your sudden change of heart, you hadn't thought of how to explain to him that a sex dream was what had brought you to this epiphany.

But what did you have to lose at this point? Most of your friends already knew, and to be quite frank, you still wanted Chan extremely badly. Telling him wouldn't be the end of the world.

"I, uh, I had a dream about you ..." you muttered, eyes avoiding his own.

His already wide eyes widened even more, a smirk forming itself on his features as he tilted his head in question.

"Uhm, care to repeat that for me?"

"Chan, shut the fuck up. You heard me."

"I didn't! Just tell me. Please?"

With a sigh, you repeated yourself, this time a little more clear, "I had a dream about you."

"Uh-huh. What type of dream?"

"Chan!"

"Princess, please. I embarrassed myself for you for weeks. I pined for you for years. Just give me what I wanna hear," he pleaded, somehow cocky in the way he did so.

"Fuck, fine. I had a wet dream about you. I dreamt about you between my legs, giving me the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced and begging me for more. I dreamt of your pathetic whines while I ground my cunt on your face. And then I woke up before I could cum. I spent the entire day trying to get that feeling back but nothing worked, Chan, nothing. I couldn't look you in the eyes after that so I just avoided you."

Finally giving him the most candid version of the events made you feel a weight leave your shoulders, specially upon realizing that the boy who currently held your heart had been rendered unable to use this as ammunition against you as you watched his cocky expression turn into one of lust.

"Oh," he breathed out. Taking a few moments to regain his composure, he spoke up again, "W-was that it? Or do you, uh, do you also like me back?"

"I like you, Chan. So much. The dream was just what made me realize that I wanted you in every way imaginable."

A decisive expression now took over his face, nodding to himself before moving closer to you, taking up all your personal space.

"That's all I needed to know," he declared before claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

Chan kissed you with everything he had to give. The kiss immediately grew lustful, with Chan licking into your mouth for access the second you made the smallest sound of surprise. And, fuck was Chan a great kisser.

His tongue was practically making love to yours, rendering your legs weak and shaky. Thankfully Chan realized this, pushing you to the nearest wall so that he could continue to take over all your senses.

Scratching and pulling at his hair, you caused Chan to moan against your lips, only making you whine in return. Chan took this as a sign to move forward, beginning to grind his expert hips against your own. Already hard, Chan's clothed cock felt like heaven against your burning cunt. You had begged for a proper release for days, and you were now afraid that some light dry humping would be enough to take you there before you could finally relive your dream.

But did you care? Did you care enough to halt Chan's movements when they were already making your eyes roll back? Your body made the decision for you, pushing your hips against his own and making him release a gruttal groan against your lips.

"N-need you so fucking bad ..." he breathed against your lips, barely able to get a word out as you insisted of licking into his mouth as he spoke. This made him groan again, "Princess, please ... You're gonna kill me."

Pulling away, you grabbed his hands and placed them on your breasts, making eyed at him as you spoke, "Channie, just touch me. Don't care what you do, just ... just take care of the problem you caused."

He whined at the feeling of your body at his palms, immediately groping and feeling up every inch of your body before trapping your mouth in another heated kiss. His hands soon became too desperate to feel you through your clothes, carelessly unwrapping you from every piece of clothing he could. He left you in your underwear, having thrown off your dress and holding onto your hands so you could haphazardly kick off your shoes. Chan's clothes joined soon after, with his own hands throwing off all but his boxers.

Before he could claim your lips in a kiss again, you grabbed him by the hand, leading him to a nearby couch in order to sit him down. Sitting on his lap, you kissed him again and again, thoroughly enjoying how liberal his hands were in the way he touched you.

Finally throwing off your bra, you felt up your tits a bit as Chan watched you with a pained look in his face, mouth open and eyes glued to your breasts. His lips attached to your tits immediately after, going crazy in the way he suckled and bit at them.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he mumbled against your tit, "Fuck, dreamt about you every night ... This pretty body and all your pretty noises. Can't believe I get to have you now," he kissed his way back up to your neck, hands never halting in their caressing of your body.

He pulled away to look into your eyes – though his eyes kept dropping to your lips, "You're embarrassed about your dream?", he chuckled, "Want me to tell you some of mine? Hmm?", he began to manhandle you, positioning you so that you could lay horizontally on the couch and he could lay above you, "So fucking nasty, baby, it'd make you blush."

"Channie ..."

"Gonna do so many nasty things to you. Want me to whine for your pussy? Oh, baby ... Gonna beg for pussy every day, shit," his hand went down to rub your wet cunt through your panties, "'sso wet," he groaned, "Gonna lick it all up again and again. Need to suffocate between these thighs," he made his way down your body as he said this, eventually coming face to face with your cunt.

Leaving a kiss on your weeping cunt, he licked through your panties, causing you to arch your back for him and throw your head back. The warmth of his tongue could've been enough to claim your orgasm, but somehow you persisted.

Chan became desperate for you quickly after that, removing your panties and lifting your thighs so that he could finally bury himself between your legs the way you'd been wanting him to for so long.

"Channie, fuck!," you cried, pulling at his hair while pushing his head further against you.

"Use me. God, just ... Grind that cunt against me ..."

And so you did. You took advantage of your pretty best friend's desperation for you and employed your own desperation for him. To any outsider, you must've looked like the image of depravity as you used Chan for your pleasure, but Chan was just as depraved. You could feel the couch shake from under you, indicating the way in which Chan ground against it as you claimed your orgasm on his tongue.

Riding your high was an incomparable experience. No one had ever made you feel as much pleasure as Chan had. Not even dream-Chan lived up to reality.

You could've sworn you lost consciousness for a few moments after your high, feeling completely weightless when it had finally died down. Your ability to think only came back by the time Chan had climbed back up your body and kissed at your chest once more, smiling at you when he finally reached your lips.

Instead of sharing a sweet moment with him, you claimed his lips once more and licked every last bit of your essence from his mouth. He groaned and allowed his tongue to mingle with yours in such a nasty manner that it made you blush when you remembered that Chan was nothing more than your best friend less than an hour ago.

"Let me fuck you," Chan pleaded when he finally managed to pull away from your greedy lips.

"How do you want me?", you asked as your lips tried to reclaim his yet again. Fuck, he was such a good kisser.

"Fuck. I get to choose?"

You couldn't help but be endeared by him. Also incredibly turned on by how much he clearly wanted you.

Without another word, he repositioned you so you'd be on your hands and knees, running his hand down your back to press the arch of your back a little deeper. He groaned at the sight of you arching your back as deliciously as you could, wiggling your ass as you looked back at him with a cheeky smile, lip trapped between your teeth.

"I've been waiting for this for years, shit. I'm not gonna last."

That made you giggle, continuing to press yourself up against him to get him to break.

"Just fuck me, Channie. Promise it's gonna feel so good."

"Yeah, baby. Gonna fuck you so good."

His tip then finally made contact with your cunt, being dragged up and down your folds as you whined at the feeling. He finally began to penetrate you after becoming too desperate himself.

"You're so fucking warm ..." he breathed out.

Sighing out at the fullness, you pushed back against him, encouraging him to begin fucking into you. Chan took no time in following your lead, adopting a desperate pace almost immediately.

The sounds of skin slapping took over the room, only accompanied by sighs and moans of pleasure from you or Chan. The occasional whiny praise also left his lips every so often. The needy way in which he fucked you had you reeling. Chan had the ability to make you feel extremely desired and like getting to fuck you was the greatest privilege known to man. The way his hands caressed you and his pleas for you to 'please push it back on him' made the experience all the more dreamy to you.

Dream-Chan truly stood no chance to the real one.

"Princess, gonna- fuck, gonna fucking cum. W-where can I?", he grunted from behind, his thrusts somehow becoming even more animalistic.

There was no moment of hesitation in your voice – though shaky from the way in which Chan rutted against you – when you gave him the green light to cum inside you. His groan upon your confirmation only made your back arch even more. Chan's want for you continued to make you feel lightheaded.

Halfway through his own orgasm, Chan triggered your own through the way his hand dipped under you and toyed with your clit. After only one day with you, your best friend already knew how to get you there immediately. He talked you through your orgasm, giving you endless praise about how beautiful you were, how he didn't deserve such a pretty bestie to fuck so good, how he'd beg for you day after day if necessary.

Upon your highs wearing down, Chan managed to reposition you so you could lay next to him. (though almost entirely on top of him) He held you close to him, soft in the way he ran his fingers up and down the length of your arm, enjoying the goosebumps forming. His hand would eventually go over to your face and caress your cheek while his nose rubbed against your own. Treating you like a doll, Chan made you swoon yet again.

"I love you."

Then the world stopped.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. It wasn't just a crush. I'm in love with you. And ... and I want you to be mine. Will you be my girlfriend?"

It was all whispered against you, with a soft smile accompanying the whispered words.

"I love you too," the words left your mouth so naturally you were sure they'd been stuck there forever, "Yes, Channie. I'll be your girlfriend," you couldn't help but smile as you said those words.

"Fuck, thank God," he breathed out, hugging you to him, "I never would've gotten over you if you said no. The guys never would've heard the end of it."

He made you laugh, as per usual.

You knew things would only change for the better, so you weren't scared about the change in dynamic that was to come from letting Chan out of the friendzone. All you felt was excitement to finally be with him without guilt.

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content: established relationship, chan's pov, banter, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of lingerie, teasing, dry humping, riding, etc.

wc: 695 (teaser); 1773 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Chan had waited for this moment for years. The moment he finally had you all to himself and the moment that would start the rest of his life with you.

Sleeping with you last night had somehow surpassed his craziest of dreams – and he had dreamt about it a lot.

The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips, the way you moaned against his mouth as his tongue suckled on yours, the sight of your bare body, the feeling of your hands caressing every inch of his body, the taste of your wet cunt ... fuck. He could go on forever reminiscing about you and how obsessed with your touch he had already become.

It had only been a bit over a day since he had woken up next to you on that couch. Granted, the sleep had been slightly uncomfortable, but he had gotten to feel your warm skin against his own as he slept, so it had been worth it.

After some sheepish reaffirmation of your feelings for one another, you had redressed and left the shared house, pinkies intertwined as you went home. Sadly, you had busy days, so you weren't able to see one another at all throughout the following 24 hours. But! You had agreed to see each other tonight for a quiet dinner at Chan's apartment – courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Opening the door to his apartment, Chan's chin practically hit the floor when he spotted you in that dress.

Chan had seen you in all types of getups throughout all his years of knowing you. He had obviously seen you in the prettiest of dresses, the tightest and most sinfully tailored pieces. But nothing compared to the pretty little thing you were currently donning.

It was a black slip dress. It wasn't too tight nor too loose. The fabric barely covered his favorite parts of your body, making him reminisce on how they looked without anything covering them at all. You were also shamelessly donning the few hickeys he had left on you just one day ago. Chan was convinced you'd been sent on this Earth to ruin him, to make him a shell of himself and rid him of any ability to act as a functional human being.

The dinner went quite well. You and Chan were far too used to each other for it to go anything but perfect. Your usual banter was present, though Chan now had the privilege of running his hand up and down any sliver of skin he could reach as you teased him about one thing or another. He enjoyed the innocent touches he could give you without any sense of guilt you might be taken by some loser who didn't deserve you. The right to touch you was now entirely reserved by him, just as it should've always been.

It was all perfectly innocent until it wasn't.

Eventually moving to the couch to entertain yourselves with some streaming service, you cuddled against each other. This was an ordinary occurrence between you even as friends. Sure, the cuddling was now a little extra close – with you practically sitting on his lap – but it wasn't anything too intimate so far.

It seemed like this wasn't enough for you, though. It didn't take you too long to move onto his lap, now sitting on top of him while his arms wrapped around your middle. Chan chose to just follow along with whatever position you wanted to cuddle in, just happy to be there at all. Your hands would play with his own, clearly not attentive to the movie at all.

Innocently at first, you rubbed your own hands up and down his arms. This later came to you leading his hands to rub up and down the expanse of your thighs, coming up high enough to lift up most of your skirt. This then evolved into you dipping one of his hands to rub against your panties.

Chan's eyes rolled back when he felt the warmth of your cunt under his hand, already moist and ready for him. You kept pressing his hand against you, so Chan took the hint to play with you.

...

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#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt oneshot #seventeen one shot #svt imagines #chan smut #chan imagine #lee chan x reader #lee chan fanfic #dino smut #dino fanfic #dino x reader #dino imagines #dino scenarios

[dnd-writes]

Cuddle Time

AO3

Tags: Non-con, BFH-ish, unedited so bear with me, gf!Jiheon, human sex toy, emotional disregard, choking, carry fuck, ass-to-mouth, slapping, face fucking

A/N: A little late but... BELATED JIHEON DAY!!! Big thanks to @nsfwmaemi for the plot idea (and for pointing out that it was Jiheon day cause I wouldn't have written this otherwise lmfao). Anyways, enjoy!

P.S. Baek Jiheon? Break Jiheon.

You are woken up by a sudden weight on your chest, you start to panic but instantly calm down once the familiar scent of strawberries hits your nose and you instinctively wrap your arms around the person on your chest. You don’t even need to open your eyes to confirm it’s Jiheon, it’s her favorite thing to do. You love it as well but today you have some sort of predicament between your legs and it doesn’t help that Jiheon is brushing against it as she snuggles into you.

You finally open your eyes and the first thing you see is Jiheon’s heavenly smile but in your current state of horniness, all you see is a fuckable set of lips and it serves to just rile you up even more. You start breathing heavily as the thought of Jiheon’s tight mouth wrapped around your cock while making the lewdest and sloppiest of sounds fills your mind.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we fuck?” You ask blatantly. “It’s been a while and—” You cut yourself off and instead just lightly thrust upwards, making Jiheon know your situation as you poke her with your tip.

“Hnggghhh, I don’t want to move,” she whines. “Maybe next time.” That maybe hurts you deeply but with your dick being so desperate, instead of backing down you feel a sense of determination fill you. You’re not taking no for an answer, you need that sweet release even if it means going the distance and crossing boundaries.

“Please, I need it. Even if you just let me go to th—” 

“But I’m already here, I don’t want to get up,” Jiheon whines again, this time nuzzling herself closer into the nook of your neck, really cementing herself on top of your warm body.

It’s not really a problem having her on top of you, you can just easily push her off and go jack off in the bathroom but you quickly realize that there’s no fun in that at all. But then a wicked idea strikes you, why use your strength to get Jiheon off of you when you can just overpower her then have your way with her body? She doesn’t want to move but she doesn’t have to and if she doesn’t want to help you, then you’ll just help yourself.

You start by pampering Jiheon with love and affection as you plant soft kisses on her forehead to distract her from the fact that your hand is already on her butt. It worked up until you gave her cheek a light squeeze, making Jiheon shoot her head up and give you a playful glare. “Oppaaa~ I told you, not now.”

You move your hand to her back and chuckle it off, you go back to giving her quick pecks on her face as she lays her head back down but after a short while you start snaking your hand lower and lower, this time all the way inside her shorts, you can feel her underwear already and you just want to rip it right off.

“Ya! I wasn’t in the mood already and you doing that is not helping at all!” Jiheon glares at you again, now more fierce and sincere, letting you know she’s not playing. But what makes her think you are?

Instead of pulling out, you double down and push your hand further inside, beneath her panties. You find her asshole and start teasing it with your finger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jiheon shouts out, she tries to get up and leave but you wrap an arm around her and pull her back down against your body, putting her back in the position she so vehemently didn’t want to leave just moments ago.

Jiheon can’t manage to break free from your grip, she struggles, she pushes against you, she squirms, but no matter what she tries she’s stuck with you. “Shhh, just relax and let me do everything, before you know it, it will be over,” you whisper in her ear to calm her down but it seems that she didn’t hear it, still continuing to struggle to get out.

You roll over and get on top of Jiheon, you put a hand around her neck to hold her in place while you try to undress her. Her legs flail wildly but one tense squeeze around her throat is enough for her to shift her focus to not going unconscious. Jiheon tries to pry your hand off but once she moves to remove another finger, the previous one has already gone back against her skin. Eventually you show some remorse and give her some room to breathe, at least now you get to mess with her clothing undisturbed.

You pull her shorts and underwear down then throw them off the bed. As you move your eyes back up to Jiheon, all you see is pain and fear. The image of Jiheon crying is one you would normally feel sad at, one where you would rush to wipe the tears away, one where you would console her and cheer her up—but at that moment you are the sole reason for her despair and you don’t feel guilty at all.

“Oppa…” Jiheon forces out with what little air she has in her. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just please… stop. Y-You’re hurting me…”

You fake a sense of realization as you let go of Jiheon’s neck, letting her gasp for air and regain her composure. You take your hands off of her body not because she begged for it rather you did it to start undressing yourself. Jiheon sees you and dashes out, you quickly kick your shorts off then run after her. 

Jiheon only manages to open the door before you catch her, you slam the door shut then slam her against the wall. Jiheon yelps as her petite frame is pinned down, once again unable to move with you holding her down. “AHH!!! Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I will really make it up to you, just… please, let me go.” The trembling her voice makes fills your ears and the squirming her body does just makes her grind against your erection, you’ve never felt so alive.

“Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere. You’re going to make it up to me using your body,” you whisper into her ear and Jiheon just sobs realizing her helplessness. She shakes her head which is the only form of movement her body is still capable of but you restrict that too by pressing the side of her face against the wall. You lean in close and lick the side of her face, Jiheon winces as your tongue grazes her skin, you’ve never imagined tears to be so delightful but there you are lapping at the side of Jiheon’s face as if her eyes are some sort of leaky faucet. 

You shift your lips lower until you reach Jiheon’s neck and you take no time before attacking one of her most sensitive areas with kisses and bites. It’s a very odd predicament for Jiheon, being pleasured against her will despite the rest of her body in disarray, forced to moan from your touch despite the rest of her body disagreeing. You leave one big hickey before you move up to nibble on her ear. “You’re moaning so much, baby. Just admit it already, you love me using you like this.”

“I d-don’t, oppa. You’re scaring me. I really don’t like it.” Jiheon begs for mercy again but you continue to drill your mouth onto her delicate skin, leaving more and more hickeys on Jiheon, causing her to moan in pleasure much to her wishes. You mark her as yours, not treating her as someone you are partnered with rather you treat her as something you own.

Having wasted enough time painting her neck, you pry Jiheon off the wall then you reach down and hook her legs with your arms. Jiheon yelps as her entire body is lifted off of the ground rather effortlessly, you rest her back on your chest while you hold her legs up high, folding her in half. You can hear her hyperventilating, completely panicking over realizing just how powerless she is compared to you. You’ve never really appreciated Jiheon’s small and light frame until now, you barely have a problem carrying her, it’s like she’s just some toy you get to pilot around.

You position Jiheon’s butt over your rod until you feel yourself just outside of her rear entrance, you try to push yourself inside but without any help or preparation, it feels almost impossible. “Hngh… P-Please, oppa, I’ll do anything you want just put me d–ahHHHH!!!” You’ve had enough of her lies and empty promises and so you just lower Jiheon and thrust upwards, her screams fill the room just as much as your cock fills her ass. You don’t even stop to shut her up, not caring if any neighbor might hear you, just relishing in the sweet sounds of her torment filling your ears.

You’ve always thought of Jiheon as some sort of doll but never in your life have you ever thought of treating her like one but here you are now lifting and lowering her body onto your shaft like she weighs nothing.

You reduce Jiheon to a whining mess, she tries to speak, to reach out to whatever humanity you have left inside of you but her words come out slurred, unable to say a complete word let alone form a cohesive thought as you relentlessly pound into her. Fucking Jiheon’s ass has never felt this amazing, the lack of lube, the lack of regard to her well-being and safety, it just energizes you to keep going.

To call Jiheon’s ass tight is an understatement, the unpreparedness mixed with her discomfort and struggling work together to really make her walls clamp down on you. It’s like she doesn’t want you to leave her asshole. Part of you wants to whisper and tease Jiheon with how much her ass is hugging you but even you are too enamored to say anything.

Eventually the grip Jiheon’s ass has on your girth starts to prove too much even for you. You plant your feet and rest your legs as you adjust your hands to hold onto Jiheon’s shoulders. Jiheon tries her best to put what little strength she has left to hold her head steady while you hold her body firmly in your arms as you start hammering her body down onto you, letting her ass slam into your crotch with loud slaps. You really solidify Jiheon’s place as an object as you recklessly use her entire body to jack yourself off until you feel your cum burst inside of her ass.

You let your dick out then drop Jiheon onto the bed, you miss the mark quite a bit causing her to roll over to the floor and hit it with a thud. It sounded like it hurt and now you regret dropping her directly in the first place. You sit down and wait but Jiheon is just quietly sobbing on the ground, so you reach down and grip onto the base of her head then force her to look at you. Her face is a mess of tears, her ever vibrant smile now nowhere to be seen and you’re somehow loving it.

“Oppa…” Even after all that’s happened so far, you wonder how she can still call you such a name. “Y-Y-You’re done, right? Can we j-just lay in bed? I promise to forget this happened, just please stop, oppa.” You don’t even pause to think about it, stopping right now when your dick is still hard is the last thing you want to do so you drag Jiheon’s face closer to your throbbing cock to let her know your answer. Jiheon breaks into another crying fit knowing that you’re not done using her.

You wipe the tears on her face using the tip of your cock, replacing it with leftover semen, and Jiheon grimaces in disgust. “Just open wide, bitch. It’s the least you can do for me now.” 

Jiheon flinches hearing you call her such a thing but despite all the pain you’ve caused her so far, you can still see her desperation clawing at you in hopes of finding the man she once knew. “Oppa, I still lo—” You don’t dare listen to her, you don’t dare to let her finish her sentence, instead you grip the back of her head and shove her face down onto your crotch, the resulting choking Jiheon is doing around your girth sends you to euphoria. Turns out her smile isn’t the only heavenly thing her face has, her entire mouth is a world of pleasure sent down from the skies. You almost hunch over, feeling your entire body be electrified just from Jiheon choking on your dick.

If you treated her body like some inanimate fuck doll earlier, now you treat her face like a fleshlight. No doubt Jiheon’s throat is better than any toy you have used, all the features any gadget could ever have and more, all with the added benefit of being free while also not needing to be cleaned out. Now you think about using Jiheon to satisfy your every need at every moment you need her to, though for now you savor the moment.

You put a hand towards Jiheon’s cheek and she instinctively tries to snuggle into it but you betray the short moment of intimacy with a sharp slap, you didn’t expect it to do much but the resulting groaning sends shivers through your spine as her throat vibrates around you. You slap her again, and again, and again, it’s like a button to turn on a feature and you just can’t get enough of it. Feeling the sting in your palm you switch your hands around and begin doing the same to the other side of her face.

After a while, you pull her off and dangle her head above your cock, you wait for her to speak but the only thing that comes out of her mouth is spit that drips onto you. Jiheon’s too exhausted, too used, too spent, too broken to do or say anything anymore and you feel a sense of gratification seeing the outcome of your work.

You put your hands back to the side of Jiheon’s head and start pumping her up and down your length, really treating her mouth like a fleshlight as you give her no room to adjust or rest, just a fast and steady pace, letting her throat resonate a mixture of gags and chokes as you ignore the limit her body can handle.

You catch glimpses of her eyes from time to time and you can tell just how empty and lifeless they have become. From your girlfriend, Jiheon has now become your slave, though with how unresponsive she has gotten, toy would be a more appropriate title for her.

As you feel your next load about to release, you yank Jiheon’s head off of your crotch and jerk yourself to completion with the other hand, your second orgasm flies onto her face covering it almost completely in white. Your climax was so explosive that you didn’t have the time to savor the sight as you felt yourself pass out. All of a sudden…

You are woken up by a sudden weight on your chest, you start to panic but instantly calm down once the familiar scent of strawberries hits your nose and you instinctively wrap your arms around the person on your chest. You don’t even need to open your eyes to confirm it’s Jiheon, it’s her favorite thing to do. You love it as well but today you have some sort of predicament between your legs and it doesn’t help that Jiheon is brushing against it as she snuggles into you.

#kpop #kpop smut #fromis9 #fromis9 smut #jiheon #jiheon smut

[hearts4hughes]

Luke Hughes

4. "where's my goodnight kiss?"

luke hughes x fem!reader | request post

you have no intent to speak to luke anymore today. he’s been purposely causing arguments and bickering throughout the entire day. from when you bought him the wrong brand of toothpaste to you accidentally sitting in his spot on the couch, he’s found a problem with it.

now, you grab a pillow and a blanket from your shared bed, preparing to spend a long night on the couch.

“where are you going?” luke questions from his spot in the bed. his brows are furrowed as he examines you holding your favorite blanket and pillow clad in your pajamas.

“to sleep.” you simply state.

“and where are you planning to sleep?” he inquires.

you roll your eyes. “on the couch.”

his jaw clenches. he’s aware of the grouchy attitude that he’s been sporting, but every time he begins to apologize, you do something to annoy him once again. it’s not your fault, you could have stepped on the wrong floorboard and he would have freaked.

“why?” he whines, his voice suddenly small.

you stare at him, contorting your face in an annoyed manner. “because you’ve been an asshole to me all day and i’m not sleeping next to you right now.”

he sits there dumbfounded. he tries to figure out what to say next, how he could use his charm to get you to stay, but he has no idea.

you turn around, b-lining towards the couch— which seems like the most comfortable thing right now.

“wait,” his voice causes you to stop in your tracks. “where’s my goodnight kiss?”

you want to ignore him. you want to just slam the door and leave him alone, but his voice sounds so adorable. not to mention his cute, messy curls.

“you’re not serious, right?” you ask, letting out a laugh in disbelief. but luke doesn’t laugh, he only frowns, putting on the cutest face he can muster up.

hesitantly, you drop your blanket and pillow and walk over to him. you climbing on the bed and lean into his lips. the kiss is barely a kiss— it’s more of a peck—eliciting a whine from luke as he wants more.

you giggle as he swiftly flips you over and begins spreading kisses on your face and neck. finally, he pulls back, “i’m sorry for being a jerk. i’m so stressed right now with hockey, which is barely an excuse.” you look at him, urging him to continue. “you deserve so much better of an apology, but i promise i will make it up to you.“

“well,” you start, “you can begin by scratching my back.” you grin causing him to laugh.

“whatever you want, darling.”

#nora’s writings 💐 #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes imagine #new jersey devils

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 7

content warning: mentions of blood, some violence, FINALLY 18+ so MDNI, dry humping 😁, like a smidge of fluff, some Spanish (as always, correct me if I'm wrong)

word count: 2.3k (we're back with some sense)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

Gabriel jumped as the grand doors slammed closed.

The room was quiet minus Kron groaning on the floor.

“I’m going to kill him!” he shouts, hand trying to cover his bloodied nose.

“If you try, you’ll be disowned,” Tyler frowned down at him. Gabriel had never seen him without a smile on his face. It was scary yet familiar. It was times like this that Gabriel was reminded that he and Miguel were different.

“Dad, are you fucking serious? He just assaulted me!” Kron cried in disbelief as Nancy tried her best to clean his face.

“It was nothing you didn’t deserve. Surely, you’re grateful that I pulled him away.”

“Tyler. Our son is hurt! And bleeding out on my expensive carpet,” Nancy bit back, snapping at a butler to bring her a health kit.

“My other son is also hurt,” Tyler replies with his voice even, looking at Nancy and Kron as if they’ve lost it.

Gabriel could see George tense up at Tyler’s acknowledgement of Miguel as his.

“All this time and effort spent on putting this whole thing together and for what? What did I gain?” Tyler said lowly as he took his glasses off.

“I’ve spent two decades raising you and the older you’ve gotten, the more you have disappointed me. Twenty years spending dollar after dollar on your schooling and wellbeing. Ten years of watching you grow. Ten more years of watching you drift and become someone I’m not sure I can even call mine. What happened to my boy? What have you done with him?”

Gabriel was outwardly wary of what would happen next. Internally though? He was bullet-pointing every dig.

His name wasn’t Gossip Gabriel for nothing.

He watched as Kron shook on the floor. A simple hangnail could probably make him breakdown.

“Almost two decades I’ve watched from the sidelines as my son grew up without me. I watched as another man took my place. I watched as my careless actions were formed into a son that I could not connect to, talk to, or even hold. So please, forgive me if the few times, no, the one time I have the opportunity to build that connection, I am furious that it is ruined by my eldest son and his entitlement.”

“Entitlement!? What entitlement? Every time I say something it’s wrong, but Miguel is all of a sudden this perfect son that you wish you had. I wasn’t the one that ran that girl away.”

“Watch it, boy,” Conchata hisses.

“No, you watch it!” Nancy snapped back.

“Silence!” Tyler’s voice boomed throughout the house. “What all of you fail to realize is that the special guests have been iced out of my home! Kron, I may not have been there for you at every moment, but I have never taught you to disrespect women like you’ve done tonight. You owe several apologies.”

“You cheated on mom to have a bastard baby.”

Gabriel only blinks as Tyler moves to hit Kron in the mouth. Just as fast as Miguel.

“And what your mother fails to tell you is that she cheated first. I am not perfect, but neither was she.”

“Escandaloso,” Gabriel leans over to whisper to Dana.

“It would be best for us to talk after you’ve gone to the hospital. Make haste, lest you make me angry, son,” Tyler says with venom-coated words.

Nancy, with help from one of the butlers, scrambled to get Kron up and out of the door.

Kron took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He turned to Conchata as started to unbutton his cufflinks.

“Conchata,” he said. “Level with me, what did you really not like about Miguel’s girlfriend tonight? I know you too well and her weight is not the problem. She’s beautiful, intelligent, talented, and we can both see that Miguel loves her.”

It was Conchata’s turn to look shocked. She looked around to everyone staring at her, waiting for a proper answer.

She stuttered trying to get her sentences out, “Why am I being held to the fire right now?”

“Ma, I’m not sure if you remember, but you quite literally criticized her body and expression,” Gabriel said. He was never afraid to step up to her when it came to Miguel, he just had to gauge how far he could go.

“I didn’t intend to do that,” Conchata starts.

“Honey, you stopped her from eating her food,” George chides. “It doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Conchata was silent as she sat back down, staring at the centerpiece, “I just-”

“No puedo creer que fueras tan grosera con ella, Conchata. Miguelito is right. You should be ashamed,” Gabriel’s abuela said. (I can’t believe you were so rude to her, Conchata.)

She got up and came to Conchata’s side, “You have fussed at him all his life. Nothing he did was ever good enough for you. You can not choose now to try and control him.”

“Tyler, can you have someone take me back home? Oh! And pack me one of those yummy cherries too,” she said as she gave him a hug and a pat on the cheek. She then proceeded to give everyone a goodbye but her daughter.

“I truly apologize for this hectic night,” Tyler announced to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see how I can make this up to Miguel. You all can use my home however you need.”

Gabriel cleared his throat now that he was left in a room with his parents and Dana, “Well. Did you guys like the meal?”

“I thought the filet mignon was fabulous,” Dana replied.

They leaned together and giggled.

Gabriel had a lot to spill to Miguel.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up unbelievably warm, the bed sheets piled on top of you. You lift your head from the thick pillow, and waited as the AC hit your face.

Sun was coming in through the cracks of the drapes. It was all quiet except for the light snore coming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You turn to him and he’s out from under the covers, bare muscly back to the world. You swallow around nothing as you watch the ripples of his muscles move with his breath.

Who knew you were going to wake up to this delicious sight?

You move quietly, shuffling to the bathroom to pee and freshen up. You felt miles better than you did last night. You felt even better as the memories come back to you. Your boyfriend really took a stand for you.

When you walk out the bathroom, you don’t expect Miguel to be sitting up on the edge of the bed, bed head and sleepy eyes.

“Are you up? I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, voice light and soft.

“I moved over and you weren’t there,” Miguel yawned. “Couldn’t go back to sleep ‘till I found out where you went.”

You shuffle to his side of the bad, “Just went to the bathroom.”

He opened his legs and pulled you in. He laid his head on your chest, kissing the skin through the fabric as placed his hands on your ass.

“G’morning,” he said, voice scratchy.

“Morning to you too,” you said while scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, peering up at you.

You give him a small smile, “I’m feeling better.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck. You twirl your finger is his hair absentmindedly.

He puckers his lips, waiting expectantly. You giggle and lean down pecking his lips.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries and brushes his teeth, wanting to continue this mood. You were rocking one of his shirts and some panties. He still wanted to see if the offer from last night was still up.

GymRat!Miguel who crowds your space on the bed, hovering over you as he kisses your lips. He’s feeling particularly ravenous and all he wants is you. Your grip on his shoulders becomes tighter as he slots his tongue in your mouth.

GymRat!Miguel who is definitely a virgin. Sure, he spent his free time researching how to make you feel good. He even shyly asked Peter for advice. It still doesn’t negate the fact that he has put none of these things to use.

He pauses as things start to get even more heated, sharing this news with you. You’re a little shocked but you promise him it’s fine to take it slow. You have never done penetrative sex with anyone either. Feeling more relaxed, he dives right back in.

GymRat!Miguel who has you grinding above him. Your clothed sex slides against his, two layers of cotton separating you both. You’re whining against mouth as he moves your hips. He’s humming at every noise you make.

As much as he wants to go further, he has a need to fulfill your desire first.

Plus, he was dumb enough not to bring a condom.

He opens his mouth to take a nipple in through your sweater. It’s thick, but he sucks hard enough to get the job done. He watches as you tilt your head back and moan loader, hips stuttering.

Miguel watches you in awe. He’s never seen you like this before. So needy for him. It was a contrast to how you usually let him take, take, take.

He moves quick to lay you on top of him, finally getting his dream of you over him.

“Miguel?” you ask, wary of your weight.

“Nuh uh, baby keep going. Don’t stop,” Miguel says, swerving your hip along his.

You fall down from a sharp buck of Miguel’s hips, moaning from the friction and holding your hands against the headboard.

Miguel was in heaven watching you roll your hips faster and faster.

GymRat!Miguel who flips you over as soon as you come. He is grinding better against as you lay on your back. Your tits ate bouncing under his sweater with every jerk. He wanted to take it off, but you were still a bit self-conscious.

For now, it was fine because you looked so good in his clothes, nipples hard and ready just for him to devour. In the future, he hoped to have you see how beautiful you are in his eyes.

You’re sensitive, thighs tightening around his waist. He softly moves one of them, gaining better access for his bulge to slide against your clothed clit.

“Miguel!” you cry, voice high.

“Give me another one, come on,” he says, mouth moving to your ear. “You’re doing so good. Just need one more.”

He feels you nod your head, arms wrapping around his neck.

You yell his name as you come again, thighs shaking.

GymRat!Miguel who comes through his underwear on top of you. He pulls your sweater up a tad to watch some liquid pool on your stomach.

“Fuck,” he heaves, smearing it with his thumb. You were fluttering against him softly.

You were laid out under him coming down from your high. Your breaths were slowing down and you were looking at him, blissed out.

This was better than his dream.

He rubbed up and down your bare thighs, watching as they twitched when he grazed your inner thighs. He walked his fingers down to your panties, running his knuckles over your mound. The fabric was wet, evidence of what you two just did.

He starts to pull the fabric tight, watching as your folds imprint through the cotton.

What a pretty sight. Your body so open with his cum on your smooth skin.

Mine. All mine.

He’s about to press against your clit again until you say something.

“Huh?” Miguel asks, in a daze.

“I asked if you could go get a wet towel,” you say.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, frantic movements as he hobbled out of the bed. He was acting like an idiot, gawking at you instead of talking.

GymRat!Miguel who realizes that he put you both in a sticky situation as he wipes your stomach off.

“It’s fine. ‘Was hot,” you whisper, completely flushed.

“Yeah? You liked it?” Miguel asked, giddy.

You nod your head, “You made me feel really good, so yes, I did like it.”

“Is that so?” Miguel mumbles, leaning close to your face. “Might have to do more next time.”

“More? Like what?”

“Like finally getting you to sit on my face,” he says in your ear. He finally got you to put your weight on him, all he needed was that final push.

“Oh my god,” you drone, covering your face dramatically.

“What? Baby, it’ll be so fun! I promise!”

GymRat!Miguel who finally checks his phone while you both wait on room service.

Abuela 💕:

“Miguelito!”

“Call me when you can!”

“dile a mi muñeca que mi casa es su casa!” (tell my doll that my home is her home)

“And I don’t want any new grandbabies so soon so control yourself”

Pa:

“Miguel I hope you can forgive your mother”

“She needs some time”

“I’ll be sure to talk to her”

“It was also lovely to meet your girlfriend”

“I’m proud of you mijo”

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“Bro”

“You missed SO MUCH!”

“BDHDHDHDJEBE”

“I wish I could have streamed it”

“Tyler SWUNG KRON’S BODY TO THE SIDE….”

“Ok no but fr”

“It’s def confirmed that you’re Tyler’s favorite 🤷🏽‍♂️”

“Kron got socked in the mouth by Tyler”

“That’s def where you get your punches from ngl”

“OMG”

“Did you know that Nancy cheated on Tyler first?”

“Crazy. Ik. You don’t have to say anything”

“Anyway”

“Tell my girl I said gn 😁 her breakfast in bed will be waiting on her”

Dana:

“Your dad’s kinda hot”

“Tyler not George”

“But you know who’s hotter?”

“Your gf”

“Give her my number. Plz and ty”

Dad….Tyler:

“Son I sincerely apologize for this terrible evening.”

“Kron will be reprimanded. No need to worry about that. You only taught him a valuable lesson in reality.”

“If I can, may I make it up to you?”

“I added a few more days to the hotel.”

“And my doors are, of course, always open to you.”

“Please reach out to me soon.”

Ma:

“Miguel please come home”

“I need to talk to you”

divider by: @plutism + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: AHHH! If you're reading this, then this (hopefully) means that I have finished and turned in my Senior Thesis 🥺. As a gift, please tell me you how you feel. You guys have been so kind to me on here, so I hope you enjoy today's chapter. There are more great things coming soon!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

@love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx

@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

#love lab drabbles 💊 #GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾 #miguel o’hara x chubby reader #miguel o’hara x plus size reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #miguel o’hara x chubby!reader #miguel o’hara x plussize!reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel smut #miguel fanfic #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face one... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x fem!reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #dad!pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #the mandalorian #javier peña #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #fluff #daddy pascal #pedrohub #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito #pedro pascal x gn reader

[tiredfox64]

Too Late? You’re Still Young!

Prior notes: DILFS! I LOVE THEM! I LITERALLY HAVE A I ❤️ DILFS SHIRT! YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE I LOVE? CONSENT! WE 👏 LOVE 👏 CONSENT👏!

Pairing: Johnny Cage (MK11) x Virgin! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, fingering, praising, nipple play, safe sex is sweeter, mating press, aftercare (is freaking important)

So you spent all of high school and all of college with you virginity in tact. Impressive, but it wasn’t your choice. With a sheltered home life like yours you struggled to understand the dating scene. You were too afraid to have a boyfriend since you worried you would get in trouble with your family. You never had the talk before but your hormones were a big indicator that you were missing some important information about your body. You somewhat found the solution when you placed a pillow between your legs and it felt incredible good to you.

Through Sex Ed class and word around school you figured out what you were in need of. But to get it seemed so difficult. At least now you knew your fingers were a good option.

That frustration grew in you and you couldn’t voice it out. Even telling it to your best friend Cassie felt wrong. You’re almost graduating and you still have your v card! You can’t do this anymore. Maybe it’s time to ask Cassie for advice. Even if she can’t help you maybe one of her friends can. Two of them are engaged to each other you doubt they are waiting till after marriage. Heaven knows you can’t.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You went over to Johnny’s mansion since you remembered Cassie was staying with him for a bit. You knocked on the door and waited patiently with an anxious look on your face. It was Johnny who opened the door.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while,” He paused for a second, “Woah, what’s up with that face?”

“Hi, Mr. Cage. Is Cassie here right now?” You asked sheepishly.

“Nope, sorry. She just went out with Jacqui. But you should still come in. I’ll get you something to drink.” He invited you in.

You went inside, taking your shoes off at the entrance like a decent human being. You followed Johnny into the kitchen where you sat at the island. He gave you a glass of water which you thanked him for before he started talking.

“So what’s going on? You don’t seem to happy. Let me guess, a professor gave you a bad grade.”

He knows you too well. That could be true but not at this moment. You did smile though which is the reaction he wanted.

“No actually, it’s more of a…body issue.” You tried your best to explain it without saying it out loud.

“Ah, shark week I’m guessing? That’s why you need Cassie.”

“No! No! It’s another kind of issue that I have a hard time saying.” Your voice grew quieter the more you spoke.

Johnny stayed patient. He waited to see if you would say it yourself. You were being vague so he really didn’t understand what was going on. You sighed before continuing.

“The thing is I’m still a virgin. It’s really embarrassing. I feel so frustrated knowing that my body needs something but I either don’t know what it is or I can’t get it.” Now he understands.

He stayed silent for a bit as he thinks about what you said. He would say it’s no big deal but he’s a man with a high body count so he shouldn’t be talking. Still, he doesn’t want you feeling bad about it.

“Cassie did tell me you were a bit sheltered. But I don’t see why it’s a problem. You’re a nice and intelligent girl and I would hate for some dick to take your virginity as if it was nothing.”

“Everybody says that to me! I know what I am and I understand I need a good man to do it with. But how will I know what is considered a good man if no one tells me.” You were really expressing your frustration.

You had a point and Johnny could see that. You were at risk of being misguided. Everyone is at risk of that no matter what but you had a disadvantage. He had an idea that might work out but it seemed so stupid. Hormonal stupid. He’s been deprived for a while now and getting the chance to have some fun is really tempting right now. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of your situation. It won’t hurt to ask.

“Alright listen, how about you and me…do it. I’ll show you how it goes and what a man should be doing to you. It’s up to you. I won’t force you to do anything.” He said calmly.

You froze up and your cheeks started to feel warm. You were surprised he would suggest something like that even though you knew of his flirting habits. Was it a good idea however? He is your friend’s dad and he is way older than you. You can’t deny though that he is still good looking for his age. Older does mean more experience, right? He’s been so nice to you too so you can trust that he’s a good man. Screw it, he’s the best option!

“You wouldn’t mind doing that? I mean I do feel comfortable with you, especially since I don’t have any guy friends.”

“Of course, but only this one time. Promise me you won’t tell Cassie, right? I get it she’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything and whatnot. But she is still my daughter and I doubt she will be happy that I banged one of her best friends.”

“I promise. She will never find out.” Better make sure of that.

He nodded before taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs. It was exciting yet nerve racking. Johnny could sensed that and squeezed your hand to tell you it’s gonna be alright. He’s gonna take good care of you.

You two walked into his bedroom. His bed was large and comfortable which helped settle your nerves. He brought you over to the bed and had you sit next to him. He may be an expert in this but he has never really dealt with a girl who was so nervous before. He better take this real slow and talk you through it.

“Alright, first things first, a man should never go right into it. Foreplay is very important. It will help make the experience better for you and prevent you from getting hurt down there.” He instructed.

You had no idea what foreplay was but you trusted Johnny enough to not asking him about it. You were right to do so since all he did at first was kiss your neck. Already that was a lot for you. Each kiss felt like a little tingle that shot down between your legs.

Johnny’s hand was slowly tracing down your body till he got to the waistband of your pants. Your breathing hitched which alerted him you were getting nervous again.

“Shh, it’s okay. Remember I’m taking it slow. I won’t hurt you.” He whispered against your neck.

You relaxed a little as his hand slipped under. His fingers lightly touched your clit and you whimpered immediately. It felt way different than when you would do it to yourself. This is way better, probably cause you are receiving it from someone else. Johnny wanted to see how you were a little more down and was surprised at how wet you already were. He could easily slip his fingers in if he wanted to.

“Damn, you’re really wet. I’ve never had a girl get this excited so quickly.” He commented.

You were embarrassed by that. Barely touched and you are soaking wet down there. You turned your head away from Johnny to prevent any further embarrassment. He just chuckled lightly at your reaction.

“It’s not a bad thing. It makes it easier. You’re doing good.”

One of his fingers slipped into your pussy with ease. You gasped in surprise and pleasure. You never fingered yourself since you never felt anything from it. But you sure felt it now. That one finger slowly pumped inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit. You were keeping yourself together which was good. Johnny felt like you could take a little more.

“You think you can take another one?”

You nodded your head confidently. You wanted more anyways. Your body was in need of it. Now having both his ring and middle finger in you was like heaven. He went a little faster while his thumb kept rubbing your clit.

Your whimpers to turned to quiet, breathy moans. Now it felt too good. Without thinking you were trying to close your legs. You don’t know why you do it you just know you don’t want to make it hard for Johnny.

“Gotta keep your legs open for me. I promise it will be better for you if you do.”

You listened and tried your best to keep your legs open, spreading them wider than before. That should do it.

“That’s it, good girl.” He whispered.

Immediately you had a reaction. Your heart did flips and you felt warmth in your stomach. Johnny caught on when he felt your pussy clench against his fingers. Not surprising considering you always did seem excited by praise no matter what. He’ll keep that in mind when he fucks you in just a moment.

Your body grew hotter the longer this went on. It didn’t help that Johnny was so close to you. So close that his other hand went to the small of your back to support you. You didn’t know what to do with your hands so you were left clenching the bed sheets. Suddenly he asked you a very important question.

“Wait, now that I’m thinking about it, have you even had your first kiss?”

Nope, you didn’t even get that. You nodded no.

“Well I must look like a jerk. What kind of man am I,” He said comedically, “Let me help you with that as well.”

This must be some sort of dream. A dirty one at best. A dream where you are kissing your best friend’s hot dad as he fingers you. Even if you weren’t the best at kissing, Johnny was making it work. Thank goodness your lips were soft cause you’d be embarrassed if they weren’t.

This was all enough to send you over the edge. It really didn’t take much effort since you were so deprived. Your eyes were shut tight as you felt pleasure pulse through your body. You were moan against Johnny’s lips. He felt your pussy clench his fingers which was enough evidence to show he just made you cum. Damn, in three minutes? That’s a new record. To him that was impressive and boosted his already high ego. You were embarrassed, thinking that cumming too early was a bad thing. It’s only bad when it’s guys, you’re fine.

“I’m sorry. I thought I would last longer.” You apologized.

“There’s no need to apologize. It just means we can get to the really fun part now. Take your clothes and get comfortable on the bed.” He instructed.

Johnny gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before slipping his hand out from your pants. He wanted to make sure you were still comfortable. There was no need to feel embarrassed around him. The important thing is if you’re comfortable and still okay with this.

You took your time when taking your clothes off. Obviously you never stripped down in front of a man. Even when you would go to the pool you were nervous to take your shirt off. This was a big leap but you felt like you could do this. Deep breathes and take your time.

While you did that, Johnny went over to his bedside table to grab a condom. You could see how prepared this man is when you saw the long line of condoms he had. It’s been a while for him, they’re still good.

When you took all your clothes off you were quick to get on the bed and cover yourself with the blankets. He doesn’t mind he understands. He started to strip his clothes off and oh…wow.

You don’t care what anybody says he is like fine wine. He looks like he’s still in his prime. You couldn’t deny you felt yourself get wetter and you pressed your thighs together to alleviate the pressure down there. Then he took his pants off. Girl, you’re in trouble but a good kind of trouble.

You’re not mathematician or scientist but you can definitely say he was bigger than average. Was it supposed to be that thick? He saw how wide your eyes were and decided to tilt your head up so you could look at him instead.

“You should probably keep your eyes on me for now. Might scare you if you look down there for too long.” He’s not wrong but he sounds arrogant saying that.

He got on the bed and slowly pulled the blankets off you. You were still being shy which is fine. There is no need to rush into this he will make sure you are comfortable with going ahead. Plus, he’s gotta comment on those tits.

“You have a nice pair on you. Do you mind?” He was asking for your permission to play with them.

You nodded and he went in slowly. You felt his hands cup your breasts gently. His thumb rubbed against your soft skin. You were surprised by how calming it felt. Sure you were even more turned on but you also felt less nervous. Johnny came in closer and started to leave kisses all over them. At first it was gentle but then he decided he wanted to leave hickeys on them. Nothing too big but they were the perfect spot since no one will see them. It was definitely a new feeling but when you saw the marks he left on you, you knew you liked it.

You know what else you liked? When his tongue ran over your nipple. It surprised you but you soon relaxed again to the feeling. He sucked on your nipple gently, not wanting to overstimulate you just yet. His other hand went to pinch your other nipple which excited you more. Once again it was another situation where it felt better when someone else did it instead of you. With all this combined you started to grow needy. There was no sense of embarrassment or nervousness anymore, only this need to be fucked. You started to whine which let Johnny know you were ready.

“Alright, alright, I get you. Just give me a second, babe.”

It didn’t take long for Johnny to put the condom on, what a manwhore. He angled himself before holding your hand. It was for support.

“Just tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Then he started to push into your wet pussy. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time was deliciously painful. It’s not what you expected. You expected to be screaming and for a bunch of blood to come out. Nope, not at all. Inch by inch he slowly pushed himself inside of you till he was fully in. He didn’t start thrusting immediately since he knew you had to adjust.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m more than okay.”

“That’s good. You’re doing so good. So good for me.” Johnny started to give you kisses on your face which you appreciated.

After a few moments he started slowly thrusting into you. Your hand squeezed his but you never told him to stop. The pain slowly turned into pleasure. Finally, the pleasure of being fucked. Each thrust was another wave of pleasure through you. It was confusing at first, like your mind couldn’t comprehend something this good. Your body could.

Johnny started picking up the pace when no sign of pain was present in your face. You stopped having control over your moans. You weren’t being loud like a porn star. It was more like you couldn’t fake it even if you tried.

Damn, that’s what I sound like?

He didn’t want to push it too far but he was so tempted to pound into you. It’s been so long and you honestly felt amazing. He loved looking down at you and watching your breasts jiggle every time he thrusted in. You squeezed so nicely around his cock. He was trying to hold himself back from getting rough and you could see that. You wouldn’t push your lucky but your body says otherwise. Hormones are crazy like that, they will yell at you to do anything to get the pleasure you need. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist. You looked into his eyes and you said something that seemed so out of character for you but was what you truly wanted.

“Please go harder.” You begged.

“Fuck, are you sure?” Trust me, Johnny wanted to but he was still worried about hurting you.

You whined and wrapped your legs even tighter around his waist which let him know you weren’t playing.

“Alright, I get it. Never would have expected you to be so needy.” He teased.

He’ll do you one better. How about a new position? Nothing crazy but you will like it. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs back before putting you into a mating press. And you thought he was already deep enough. Good thing you are surprisingly flexible.

You really do need to keep your legs open more. It felt amazing to you when Johnny started pounding into your pussy. This position made it easier to hit that sweet spot inside you which you didn’t even know about.

You could hear a wet, squishing sound coming from down there every time he pulled in and out. Not only that but there was also the sound of skin slapping every time he rammed into you. It turned you on even more. You know why? Cause that’s the sound of being fucked, honey!

Johnny had a nice view in front of him. Listening to you moan for him as he continues to fuck you. You make him feel young again. He still has it in him. The energy to have fun with a girl and make her moan. Fuck, he is so glad he is doing this now.

You would be thinking the same but all you could focus on was how big he was and how all of that was slamming into you. At this point why hide any of your moans. No one is around and this is your first time. You should have as much freedom as you want. Get the full experience. You were keeping your eyes closed out of embarrassment but that won’t last for long.

“Come on, open those pretty eyes for me. Can you do that just for me, gorgeous?” Johnny whispered to you.

When he says it like that how can you deny. You slowly opened your eyes to look up at him. Sure you were still embarrassed but you realize that it was just hotter this way. The connecting that the eyes make. You’ve never seen a man look at you in such a way. A look that makes you feel desirable. There might even be some affection behind it. Because Johnny does care for you. Even if this is a one time thing he wants you to have the best experience and walk away with no regrets. It’s working for you.

It was all so much. The sounds, the feelings, the connection, the intimacy is all getting to you. Your nails started scraping against his back lightly. Your toes curled and your legs shook a little. Your eyes almost rolled back and your moans grew louder. You were about to cum and Johnny could see that.

“You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum, pretty girl? Go ahead. Just keep looking at me.” He commanded.

You kept looking at Johnny as he slammed into your sweet spot again. This orgasm was better than the last one. It felt like a heat radiated through your body. All your worries came undone just like you. Like a knot just unraveling in your stomach. You looked at Johnny with half-lidded eyes as you let out breathy moans. Damn, he could have came right there on the spot but he was holding himself together.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it.” He teased before leaving some kisses on your face.

You knew Johnny would feel like a king after making you cum twice. He’s cocky like that. Ah, but you forgot. He hasn’t cum yet.

“You think you can go a little longer for me, baby? Just a little longer.” He asked to keep going so he can cum.

He didn’t wanna overstimulate you during your first time but it’s your call. You’re a trooper, you can go a little longer even though you are incredibly sensitive down there now. You nodded which made him smile.

He stopped pressing down on you which was a relief for your legs. He still kept them open. He started thrusting into you again, not as rough as when he had you in a mating press but it still felt great. He watched as his cock went in and out of your pussy. Your wetness coated the condom and it still made a wet sound. Oh how he wished he could just take it off and fuck you raw. Fell how warm you are and cum into that sweet pussy of yours. But that’s a stupid idea. One that young Johnny would make and he’s a better man than that. Still won’t stop him from thinking about it.

And that view of you, mwah! Watching your legs shake slightly from being overstimulated. Your hands gripping the sheets around you. Your breasts kept jiggling no matter how hard he pounded into you. He can see your eyes grow wet as you handle the sensations. All that combined with his little fantasy of cumming inside you sent him over the edge. One more thrust in and he was cursing softly as his cum filled the condom.

You both were left panting after that wonderful experience. Johnny pulled out and went to dispose of the condom. Damn there was a lot in there.

You were pretty exhausted but happy nonetheless. You don’t really know what you are supposed to do after. If you’re supposed to just put your clothes on and walk off as if what happened didn’t happen. That’s not how this goes. Not with Johnny.

He came back to you with a bottle of water in his hand. He went next to you and helped you sit up, placing his other hand on your back.

“You’re probably really exhausted after that. Here, drink this.” You gladly accepted the bottle of water, not even realizing how parched you were.

“So, what now? Do I just leave?” You asked which just proved to Johnny that it was best that he did it with you first.

“If a man ever told you to leave right after he’s an asshole. Don’t ever let a man do that to you. Come here.” Johnny pulled you close to him and made you lay down.

Your head laid on his chest which his arm was wrapped around you. He pulled the blankets over you to make sure you were comfy. His fingers ran through your hair which soothed you even more. This was incredibly nice. You didn’t realize how tired you were till he put you in this position. Your eyelids started to grow heavy and your breathing slowed down. There was only one thing left to say to him.

“Thank you…” You said softly.

You drifted off to sleep in his arms as he gave you a kiss on your forehead. Maybe Johnny was getting pretty old since he needed to sleep as well after that. He too started to fall asleep, happy to have a wonderful girl next to him again.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Cassie and Jacqui just came back from their little, or more like big, shopping trip. Cassie was about to call out to her dad till she saw your shoes at the entrance.

“Oh shit, she’s here?” She said.

She went around calling your name, surprised you weren’t out in plain sight. in fact, neither was her dad. She guessed that maybe you were upstairs in her room. Nope, not there either. Well if anything her dad had to be in his room or something. She knocked a few times but no answer. She just decided to open the door herself.

“Hey dad, do you have any idea where-“ Cassie stopped herself when you looked at the scene in front of her. Even Jacqui gasped out loud.

She slowly closed the door again, a shocked expression on her face. She looked at Jacqui who confirmed what they saw was true. Out of all of Cassie’s friends she would have never suspected you of sleeping with her father. She doesn’t even think you did it on purpose you’re not that kind of person. This was all so much and she could only mutter three words.

“What the fuck.”

After notes:🍊…🦊so like, you gonna pay rent or something? Do I gotta feed you? Fuck do you even eat? One of your comrades came crashing through the window this early morning. Who the fuck gonna pay for that? Ah, anyways. My daddy issues have come to say hi. Can’t tell if fucking Johnny will heal me or having him be a father figure to me will. Just need him to ruffle my hair and tell me my professors are the bitches not me. Hope y’all have a good day! Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #mk smut #mk11 johnny cage #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage mk11 #mk11

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

It’s hilarious how Vaggie made herself a ‘sinner’.

How that linked her up with Charlie is such a weird, round about truthful way, even when she was lying by omission about it.

And how amazingly dumb it all makes Adam and Lute look.

Thousands of helpless souls killed by her, but she didn’t do anything ‘wrong’ until she wondered if what she was doing was right. The divine powers in her life only took her wings and condemned her to hell after she doubted their orders, their idea of justice, and quietly chose not to completely follow them.

“You fucked up” they tell her “your mistake” she “left the band” “tried for a solo career". It’s so pathetic. They're so butthurt over the idea of one of their own having a mind of her own.

It’s also so funny, because they spin her simple act of whispering “Go, run. Now!” to demon kid she’d been holding at spear point like it was big defiant move- which makes it into one- even though she never challenged them openly, or threatened them.

Hell, Lute’s “You always were weak” plus exorcist Vaggie always frowning while her murder sisters all grin with glee as they kill sinners- it paints a picture of Vaggie never having been as into exterminations as she ‘should’ have been. Too weak to be a proper exorcist no matter how good at killing she was, not just “the traitor” but also “the failure”.

And she was scared of that. She didn’t want anyone seeing her spare that child, whispered her words to them in a back alley, out of sight.

She was scared of what would happen and didn’t even fight it when Lute took her eye and wings- she was scared and no threat in any tangible way, but apparently refusing to do one single murder is enough to freak Adam and Lute the fuck out.

One woman. Doesn’t do exactly what she’s told. After who knows how many decades of being one of the “top girls” at murder, a “bad bitch” named after “the best thing ever”, and they still get spooked by that tiny moment when she wasn’t under their total control. Like it's such a betrayal to them, her daring to so much as think this level of violence isn’t justified actually, and for a split second act on that thought.

It’s an instant ticket to ousting her from the exorcists AND from heaven, while they fly the fuck off again.

“If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky-”

and they do. After doing that to one of their own. They did that, to someone who was supposedly meant to be in heaven. They didn’t wait for divine justice- took it, and her eye, and her wings, and her halo, into their own hands and tore them away from her. Then happily, they spend the next three years up in heaven, slurping smoothies and doing more murder sprees.

until Vaggie comes strolling back with the princess of hell, there supporting her girlfriend and the idea that all the shit she did for so long really was and IS wrong.

oh and Adam and Lute are pisssssssed about it. They take her being there PERSONALLY, wanna solve it with VIOLENCE

She hurts them without even trying. Without even noticing they're there.

They're told to fix the princess of hell situation and they have no concept of forgiveness, of caring about sinners, so they guess (rightly) that Vaggie hasn't told Charlie about her past and bet (wrongly) that Charlie would never forgive her if she knew, and also assumed (rightly) that Vaggie would be terrified of that

But they don't get that she's scared of hurting Charlie. Of Charlie being hurt by her. It's a selfless thing. That's her whole PROBLEM.

Her running to hold Charlie after the reveal- her NOT breaking down when Charlie takes alone time in the aftermath, respecting that right up until she thinks Charlie's actively in danger- afraid FOR Charlie when the deal with Alastor is made, no crumbling that Charlie went to someone else for help, when being helpful to Charlie is basically her raison d'étre- agreeing to go alone to an overlord, after learning she can DIE and THIS OVERLORD knows how to do it- all this for the sake of Charlie's dream, their shared goal, their hotel. Their friends, resigned to despair in the hotel lobby, losing hope and maybe hours away from losing their lives

No shit she was never going to bow down to the blackmail?? It'd be like turning herself inside out. Charlie isn't just some "little hottie" or whatever, they're partners. They're in this together. Even when Charlie out loud doubts if that's true, it still is.

Lute and Adam don't GET what it means, that Charlie assumed Vaggie was a sinner already. That the thing she'd be hurt about was the lying, not the murder. She was scared of not really being loved by Vaggie- of everything else wonderful between them being a lie too, all that support and faith empty empty- she wasn't afraid of loving Vaggie, whoever Vaggie had been, she was afraid of who Vaggie might be now and that she'd never really believed in Charlie at all.

Charlie was angry at the thought that Vaggie didn't think she would've accepted her. The idea of not really being understood or trusted by Vaggie, that's what hurt.

And it goes against everything Lute and Adam are, Charlie actually caring about sinners while knowing what they've done- about an exorcist after finding out who they'd been- really trusting that people can change. Lute and Adam hear her say it and see her stand up for it and they just want her to shut up and die

again though, no shit she was going to stick with Vaggie after the truth came out, in the end. Once she had a moment to take a breath and step out of her head long enough for a reality check

Vaggie didn’t say to Charlie what she'd done or who she'd been. But she’s been and keeps doing what she can to follow that idea, unvoiced, from that day when she couldn’t kill a sinner- something Charlie didn't know about but now knows must have happened- A final death means no second chance and no worth as a person, but Vaggie didn’t think that, even before meeting Charlie she didn't think that.

She's always been on Charlie's side. They were on the same side before they ever set eyes on each other. All this time, for three whole years, and now she's off to go find a way to protect everything they've built together.

"-words are cheap, but actions, they speak the truth"

Charlie never really stopped trusting her. Maybe she wondered if she should, but even then, she had Vaggie go to Carmilla to find the key that might save them all.

"She killed an exorcist in the last extermination. She knows how they can be harmed."

"But… I- I didn't even know that was possible."

"If you did, would you have told me?"

So Charlie asked. A pretty painful thing to say- and she said it even as she sent an angel to go find out a way to hurt other angels.

She DID trust that Vaggie WOULD tell her.

The irony of all this happening thanks to Adam and Lute trying to keep it from happening, and all of it leading up to Vaggie getting back part of what they took from her, because now she doesn't need them or heaven to be an angel anymore.

Charlie has faith in her. Enough to send her off on an important mission even after Vaggie hurt her- and send her right to the person who end up helping Vaggie get back her wings.

“The rules are shades of gray when you don’t do as you say”

Vaggie’s new fucking wings are gray when Lute sees them. When Vaggie’s standing over her, sparing her life, her wings and that one, fucking unexplained stripe separating her from the other exorcists, all of it is GRAY.

That visual gut punch of, you’re. Fucking. Wrong. You’re wrong about sinners, you’re wrong about supposedly protecting heaven, you’re wrong thinking you can just DO this shit. That imagery of an angel who DIDN’T stay in the sky because she DIDN’T think being angel meant everything she did had to be right- who’s here in hell, trying to protect sinners from heaven’s slaughter-

And Lute wanted Vaggie to “correct” HER “mistake”? Vaggie’s???

That’s Lute, admitting that people in hell can get second chances and make up for what they did. Admitting that “Sinful filth” like Vaggie can be redeemed in some way, by following Lute’s version of what’s right.

But wasn’t her and Adam’s whole thing the idea of blowing your shot? Getting no other chance after it?  

Oh yeah. Vaggie doesn’t believe that though. Not for sinners like her, not for angels like her.

She let’s Lute live. She does it to make Lute suffer, but there are a lot of ways to make someone suffer- an eye for an eye for example- and Vaggie chooses the one that doesn’t hurt Lute more than it has to, that leaves her alive, and leaves Lute’s suffering to be something completely of Lute’s own making (a HELL of Lute's own making, if you will) (Lute choosing to tear her OWN arm off to continue the fight-).

She's totally dismissive of the woman who was just going after her remaining eye like a dog after a bone.

Why is it that nothing Adam and Lute to do her matters?

Why don’t THEY matter to her at all?

Walking right past them, being so done with them up in heaven, not caving to the blackmail, only being worried about Charlie afterwards, not letting that crack in their relationship stop her from doing what she can for their hotel, Lute threatening to take her other eye and BLIND her just making her snark- even the vague threat to Charlie only gives Vaggie the oomf she needed to defend herself.

“Pathetic” she calls Lute. She’s right- they’re so pathetic, both them, Adam and Lute. They’re so scared of being wrong. So pissy over the idea of being less than great and perfect.

It breaks them. Adam’s last words are him having a meltdown in the face of not actually being hot shit. Where’s his respect, he wails, they should all be worshiping him! But they’re not. One of his random decedents stabs him to death because he would’ve done the same to her, and one of the last things he hears is Vaggie- the fuck up, the traitor, his former grumpy top girl Vagina- whooping with glee as he dies.

And Lute lives knowing that could’ve been her, too.

If it wasn't for Vaggie.

Being not all that didn’t break Vaggie. Finding out she was wrong got her to stop and think and change, not run straight on blindly into a fight that ends up with her (with HIM) dead.

Why does she go from terrified of Lute and Adam, to dismissive and annoyed and just all around not caring about them at all?

They gave up all her respect for them when they demanded the death of a child.

The father of humanity wanted a child killed. A helpless, whimpering kid, sacrificed to his ego and bruised pride, and for shits and giggles. His first lieutenant saw failing to do so as a sin worthy of hell. All this over a child. How could she ever take them seriously after that.  

She came down from high and chased the child and held a blade over them on divine command.

Then, somehow, she saw the HORNS in her own shadow above them- even though she wasn’t WEARING her MASK, and she stopped.

She was her own messenger angel.

She chose to give the child mercy, and became the sacrifice herself.

Vaggie stuck it to the man. Didn’t steal that life. And, terrified of what would happen to her next, acted selflessly. The same thing that got her left behind in hell should have earned her place in heaven, according to Adam-

heaven was shit to her though. Made her into a soldier. Sent her to kill and kill and kill. Taught her trust on the battlefield- in heaven, of all fucking places-

Timeline wise we see her very first smile when she meets Charlie. When a stranger does- again- the bare minimum for someone else.

When she’s back up in heaven later she isn’t wistful, just angry, uncomfortable, annoyed. She isn’t happy there. It’s not home to her, like her and Charlie’s room back at the hotel is. Why should it be? What good did she ever find in herself up there?

Down here though, she's happy. Hell is where her heaven started. So I guess in the end, she did find what she’d earned after all. Or it, Charlie, found her.

When “The rules are shades of gray…”

Sometimes they’re wrong, and you have to break them.  

People like Lute and Adam would rather crack under the pressure and die instead, but not Vaggie. They're out for blood. She's out for love.

Sucks to be them~

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #speculation #silly headcanons #fans of adam and lute im sorry if this shows up in your searches- please scroll on if you don't like your blorbos being called pathetic.. #repeatedly #for #several paragraphs... #hmm #anyway tldr: the irony of vaggie's history amuses me greatly #she did like the bare minimum and got fucked over so badly for it she just went Fuck It Now I KNOW You're All Assholes #amazing

[sunboki]

— THE ALCHEMIST. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. historical! au, set in 1940’s Korea, alchemist! au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. abusive behavior toward women, impoverished communities, overall sexist beliefs of the time, reader dresses as a man, mentions of death & disease, smoking (not reader or minho), war conflict, making out??

WORD COUNT. 9.6k words

AUG'S NOTES. although it was a bit out of the blue, i had such a great time writing and shaping this universe, thank you to all the love and support thus far<3 also, huge thanks to @comet-falls for instilling the peaky blinders/historical! minho vision in my head with how incredible tooth and claw was, i truly owe it to you :)

SYNOPSIS. Cities stricken with poverty, the lack of male presence in your home while surviving in a male-dominated society leaves meager food on the table and a piling debt. Left no choice but to make a risky decision, you decide that, if biology wanted to fail you, you’d simply try another approach.

alternatively :

In which deception introduces you into an entirely new reality, and The Alchemist.

It’s one thing surviving with the knowledge you can change something, whatever it may be that’s wrong. 

It’s another when that problem isn’t merely changeable, but biological. 

Your problem? You’re a woman. 

Not as easy to fix, right?

.

.

.

With your father lost in the war, fruitlessly straining to support a family of girls, the household is left helpless.

Representation is nonexistent, and merely walking outside frets harassment and laughter struck in your face at the mention of working. 

A woman, working? Hilarious. 

Or, apparently to the men in pubs it certainly is.

Some things you can’t change, yes, but there are always alternatives. And as for now, you’re helplessly searching high and low for that alternative, whatever it may be. 

Selling yourself is possible, though the inability to remain connected to your family eliminates that option. 

When you get so desperate, there’s no incentive in guarding your pride. Because being called derogatory names isn’t as bad as losing them, the people you call home.

October welcomes little warmth, biting your fingertips and sending a tremor of chills cascading down your spine. Minimal sunlight peers through dense clouds, shrouding the atmosphere in a depressing haze. 

You’re on your way to the apothecary, but not to purchase anything. The pennies in your pocket won’t amount to anything in the face of medicinal prices, which happens to be one of your many alternatives. 

Since day one, you’ve had a rock to rely on.

Medicine. 

Lack of money meant improper living conditions, entailing sickness. 

Constantly.

Whether it was your mother, your younger sister, yourself, an infection of some sort occupied your respiratory system, wreaking havoc for wallets and mental health altogether. 

Purchasing necessary medication became impossible the further you drowned in your debt, to the point drastic measures needed to be taken in order to prevent death from infesting itself in the household as well.

Then came the question. If you couldn’t purchase the medicine itself, why not collect the ingredients?

Alternatives.

Behind the apothecary you discovered mint hedges that, if mixed with wormwood and balm, could aid in curing Sun-ja’s current sickness, colic. 

Although, you’d have to be swift in your efforts, ensuring the shop owner didn’t notice your presence.

Too many times had you nearly been caught, risking a good beating from the red-haired, burly man regarded as Mr. Myeong.

Fiery red hair complimented an equally unruly personality you aimed not to cross by. Ever.

Yet, unlike Mr. Myeong, his wife was the polar opposite, an ideal magnet. She was petite and soft-spoken, but out of her appealing traits, you found her resilience to be most attractive.

Mrs. Myeong is stubborn. She’s strong in what she believes, sporting an unquestionably vocal opinion that can’t be quenched.

The woman is, likely, the only woman capable of sealing her husband’s mouth shut.  

Hidden between thorn ridden weeds sits your desired leaves, abundant in supply.

You clutch your satchel closer, plucking as quickly as possible whilst crouched to the ground, maneuvering through tickling grasses and itchy reeds. 

Your mission remains successful, until the wretched sound of a doorknob rips your head upward, the red-haired man in question standing nonplussed, arms crossed. 

He wears a cocked brow, examining what you’re desperately trying to veil away.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Stealing, are we?” Black boot clad frame thumping closer, you immediately prepare to run, hair standing on end like an agitated feline.

Instead, his huge hand swoops down to grab your collar, other evidently ready to land a harsh slap to your face.

Instinctively cringing, you brace for the stinging impact.

That is, before a saccharine, lullaby-worthy voice rings from the cracked doorway, belonging to none other than Mrs. Myeong.

“Honey! Have you seen the new envelope that came in?” 

Heels clicking whilst padding over cobblestone to where you two stand, her husband fixates you with a stern, threatening glare. 

Finally dropping your frame to the ground, you slump forward, pulse pounding loud enough you fear your chest may implode. 

Mrs. Myeong, though wearing a taut expression, ushers him off, delivering a curt nod your way, intentional brows furrowed in place. 

‘Thank you’ You wish to say, but hold your tongue, watching them disappear inside.

Another time.

Walking home was rather uneventful (much to your delight), left to enjoy the crisp, cool air sifting through your lungs in steady rhythm, the lazy billows of cigar smoke dwindling from gaping doorways.

Calm. 

Nothing calm ever lasts long.

Stashing the house key back into your decrepit leather draw bag, your footsteps still upon entering, struck terror-filled.

Your mother, strawn across the floor, hacks amongst her rampant coughs, body convulsing in desperate shivers, skin drenched a ghastly blue.

Sprinting to her side, you kneel down, rolling the woman over to find her face utterly battered, new black eye beginning to swell, cheek bruised a mawkish purple against hollowed cheekbones. 

Sharks.

To your left Sun-ja hides in the corner, rags for a blanket pulled to her chest, shielded between the wall and a tipped cabinet. 

Over and over they’ve begun visiting, to the point your mother became recognizable by her continuous black eye, her torn clothing and stooped posture. 

Exhausted, she was exhausted. 

Yet, she took the beatings. The torturous punches. Jarring slaps, traumatic insults, tarnishing. Your mother took it so you wouldn’t, so you and Sun-ja could live.

And it’s at that moment you make up your mind, discover this occasion’s alternative. 

“Cut it off.” 

“Cut.. Cut it off?” Hyunjin gapes, fingers stalling their descent down a strand of your hair. 

You smile, grimacing the longer consideration poises.

No point in thinking too much.

“Yep. Give me the most boy-ish haircut you can.” You emphasize, gesturing toward his scissors expectantly. 

Hyunjin, your personally appointed hairstylist, doesn’t seem too convinced. He’s debating, expertly reading your features.

Currently, you’re holed up in his room, a miniature apartment located near the furthest section of town, close to the coast.

In wee hours of morning you boarded the train here, inhaling salty, ocean-smelling breeze. Back in your old residence you met him, your neighbor Hwang Hyunjin. It’s a miracle you still stayed in contact, bond aging like the finest of wines over countless years. 

Enough to where you trusted him to help you enact this alternative of yours. 

Starting with a haircut.

The man stares at you through the mirror, dark, inky hair matting the longer he runs his hands through it. 

Thoughtfully trying to figure out your reasoning, he evidently catches on the moment you witness his eyes roll, releasing a heaving sigh.

“You cannot be serious.”

A torrential truth keeps you from responding, gaze directed at your feet. 

“Y/n,” He uttered, eyes filling with a concern you avoid meeting, avoid regarding in a whole. “You don’t have to do this, the war is going to end soon and your father will come ba—“

“He’s dead.”

Silence engulfs the room.

Collecting yourself, you scorn his frown.

“He’s dead and gone. Now I need to protect them, provide for them.“ 

You deny the shakiness of your voice.

“So, Hyunjin. Cut off my hair.”

Accordingly, he does without another word. Snip by snip, tress by tress falling below, scattering the tile floor in endless strands.

By the time you see yourself, it’s hard to recognize the person in the reflection. Never had you considered your hair a viable source of identity, but now that it’s so sparse, the effect is eminent. 

Failing to see yourself in your own reflection beckons a different kind of sadness. For the person you’ve introduced yourself as reigns no more. She’s been replaced.

Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, embrace just as comforting as you remembered. His hand reaches to caress your cropped hair, rocking back and forth on his heels, chin resting on your head. 

“Be careful, okay?”

Nodding into his shoulder, you wipe salty streaks from your cheeks. 

Hurts.

“And if you need a place to take shelter, I’ll be here.”

Steadying in his hug again, you pull back, cherishing his kindness with a chaste kiss to the cheek. 

“Thank you, really.”

Shaking his head at your gratitude, urging you out and lingering by the doorway till your figure retreats in the distance.

Next stop, Mrs. Myeong. 

If anyone has any idea how to source the clothing you’re needing, your best chance would be thanks to her. 

An hour later you arrive in familiar avenues, creeping out of sight into the apothecary in hopes the woman you’re looking for is working the counter. 

Much to your pleasure, after a few unsuccessful attempts do you grasp her attention, edging forward under the guise of a regular hoping to converse. 

“I need your help.”

Initially, she carries that sternness, wordlessly lifting your hooded head a bit to notice the latest adjustment. Shock written over her face, Mrs. Myeong drags you along with her, closing the door to a back room.   

“My child, what is going on?” She whispers, tone urgent. You can’t help but feel fond of the affectionate nickname.

“I need male clothing and,” You hesitate, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “something to bind my chest with.”

Similar to Hyunjin, she steps back, assessing the situation at hand. Spending a brief few seconds roaming your figure, the woman works hastily toward fetching a petticoat, meticulously fitting each article atop your stock-still frame.

“You’re conceited,” she grumbles. “And foolish.” Carefully peeling off your upper-wear, she’s managed to cut a piece of thick cloth to use as a make-shift binder, assembling the fabric over your breast. 

The experience, although strange, wasn’t as painful as anticipated.

“But be careful, and stay in contact.”

Your response is hushed.

“Breathe in,” The older woman instructs, securing her creation with a threaded pin before moving onto other aspects, like a proper coat and pants. 

Mr. Myeong’s trousers, though having to be sewn to fit, make do, and you’re reminded to return tomorrow for shoes. Otherwise, the attire is completed, paired with a curved hat to finish. 

Sure, the entire male concept is foreign, but given time, you’ll gradually acclimate.

Oh, right. 

Your alternative?

Since medicine is what you know, you’ll stick with that. Difference being medicine is a men’s occupation, and so, if you can’t be a female working in the field, why not become male? 

Well, somewhat become male.

It’s a risky wager, easily placing your life on the line in the process. 

For your mother and Sun-ja, however, it’s your turn to take the beating. Your turn to endure.

Observation is a virtue. It can save and preserve, heed to oncoming danger, and simultaneously (and discreetly) supply useful information.

Today, seated on a bench in Daegu Station, your first observation is the abundance of people scurrying like mice.

Some tall, some short. Distinct moles, eyes. Upturned and downturned lips. Mustaches, beards. Much to see.

Your legs cross and uncross, Mr. Myeong’s oversized heeled shoes beginning to sink at your ankles. Hat strung low enough to peer out without attracting attention, your gaze is magnetically drawn to a magazine held on the adjacent side of the train tracks, title on display.   

Prized Alchemist Lee Minho suspected of being the lone survivor of the Red Plagu—

Ignorant to your surroundings, your senses posed numb to the incoming train, blocking off the last few words of the title from view the moment it soars past—nearly sweeping the fedora off your head. 

By the time the last few train cars passed, the man honing said magazine had disappeared, and you were left wondering if the experience was merely a figment of your imagination.  

Although, you did have one lead. A name.

Lee Minho. 

Where you’d find him remained unknown, deciding to rely on a magazine parlor first and foremost for more intel.  

To no surprise, nearly every magazine rack lay lined with haughty opinions regarding the war and its evident cruelty.

Many onlookers of both Americans, Koreans, and foreigners alike chatter amongst themselves about their own take between gossiping hands and fumes of tobacco.

In this town, located far off in the business district by a ship port, people are everywhere.

Wives of sailors, families of soldiers off at war. Women honing gleaning parasols and ivory gloves reaching to their elbows.

Languages you’ve never heard before utter their enunciated syllables, vocabulary petulant with accent—all shrouded in dismay.   

Roaming the store endlessly to no avail, you prepare to adventure back through dusty streets and battered wooden stall-shops before a peculiar name pauses your footsteps. 

His name, The Alchemist, Lee Minho.

“Bring ‘em home I tell ‘ya,” An aged man by the deepened grooves of his face, hollow cheekbones and bunched wrinkles grumbles.

A fat cigar hangs loosely from thin lips, pale baker boy cap adorning a bald head. 

Some sentences estranged, you identify his sentences as French, heavy in dialect, throaty and broad.

And although your fluency stay patchy, exposure from French immigrants who’ve relocated near home allow minimal understanding as to what they’re talking about.

“Say, did you hear that Lee Minho chap was a Red Plague?” His counterpart offered past his own leering cigar, foot tapping incessantly.

The other hacks his bewilderment, feeble fist pounding on an equally feeble chest.

“The Alchemist?” 

The man’s astonishment returned with a nod, you lean closer, pretending to be consumed in an article. 

“Said he was only nineteen when it happened. Shipped ‘em off only for disease to kill them all. One survived, now people are speculatin’ it’s him.”

Either of them sigh out long drags.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Is all the other huffs in disbelief, and upon recognizing the conversation approaching an end, you stir to action, willing your voice to deepen an octave.

Attempting to appeal in your broken French, you stall the two, cautiously claiming you’re in need of his whereabouts for an esteemed business transaction to which, through confused stares, you’re given loose directions.

Loose, but feasible.

80 Kent Avenue, dark blue doors.

Directions that, according to the sudden blank of streetlights, would have to wait until tomorrow. As for now, the world beckoned you to rest, and any progress would prove futile and rather impossible in the dark.

Luckily, a run-down Inn gifted good few hours of shut-eye before dawn peered through the windowsills and you were begrudgingly forced to your feet. 

Fitting the binder snug across your body and fastening your trench coat through minuscule belt loops, you’re taught with much haste the stark difference of men’s prestige entitlement. 

First access to everything, the ability to have their way with a woman whether she willingly obliges or not, and just about ten billion other things someone of your hidden status couldn’t fathom.

A man’s world is a world only possible through disguise. Yours just happens to be a last resort.

Charming the mistress at the front desk was unexpectedly effortless, not to mention how easily she spilled the details as to where Kent Avenue would be located.

Another noticeable attribute of your new appearance, no one asked as to where you were going nor your intentions, they merely dipped their heads and wished you off.

Adjustments.

Adjustments that, if you’d been born different, would be normal.

Kent Avenue lay twisted in shadows. The surrounding area brims in barely flickering labels and creaking doorways leading to who knows where. Quaint isn’t the word for it. More ancient, all-knowing. 

This place has been here for centuries with many stories to tell, most just haven’t heard them yet.

Significantly dark blue doors make the Alchemist’s residence easily noticeable, starkly contrasting with wooded architecture. Massive doorknobs engraved with lions, windows shielded by moth-eaten curtains. Grand, in its own form.

You swore each door stood eight feet tall, the left in particular left slightly ajar.

Wait, ajar?

Doing a double take to ensure your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you inch forward, widening the dark gap exponentially until all you faced was a black abyss—apart from the miniature lamp beaming yellow light in a far corner.

Carefully tiptoeing into said black abyss, the further you explore, the greater the visibility increases. Leather cushioned furniture, clean, polished desks. The desk the lone lamp rests upon is a chestnut wooden, ink feathers residing in the upper corner.

Somehow, the matter grants envy, resentment grating your nerves. This man lives comfortably while other’s are beaten for possessing nothing. Maybe it’s a petty, unnecessary thought; and maybe you’re foolish, but all odds are against you, your disposition seems righteous.

Getting too lost in your head turned out foolish as well.

“What’s this?” A voice behind you whispers, voice ghosting chills tickling your neck at an alarming pace. 

Whipping around, eyes struck wide in shock, the person responsible for the remark comes into view, his stature opposing the tone muttered in your ear seconds ago.     

Not a plump business man like you imagined, not adorning a spectacle, no pipe in sight. Instead, one lone button right below the chest fits snug white sleeves cuffed by his elbows, black vest hugging a slim torso.

Conniving, cat-like eyes analyze your expressions while dark brown hair parts to the side, loose strands covering his right eyebrow. And when he reaches up to brush a few frayed tresses to the side you note sleek gloves covering long, pale fingers. 

If anything, this man is more similar to a Vampire.

“Trespassing, are we?”

Collect yourself. This is your opportunity.

Swiftly brushing off your clothes, you clear your throat.

“I have an offer.”

“An offer?” A smile belonging to that of a Cheshire cat adorns his lips, one leg propping itself over the other, fingers intertwining in front of him.

Ensuring your voice is clear and concise (while keeping the deeper, male-ish tone), you state your claim, despising how utterly debilitating it feels being caught under his observative stare. 

Like he sees through you.

“I would be a valuable asset to your studies in alchemy. I know about herbs and their uses better than anyone else, and where they’re located.”

Sure, the bargain might’ve sounded arrogant, but you were technically cosplaying as a man when most men of your time couldn’t shut up about themselves, arrogance was the least of your problems. 

Gnawing at his cheek as you spoke, he pauses a moment, then laughs.

Amused. 

Dark lashes dust above equally dark eyes, nearly black as they study you.

“You want to be my apprentice? Is that it?”

You remain close-lipped.

“I’ll tell you one thing, kid. This world is all about money,” He raises a cane from where he reclined, using the end to tip your chin up and meet his eyes. 

“No?” 

To which you simply stare back at him, refusing to avert eye-contact. 

“I’m sure that’s what you’re here for anyways.” Rising from his place, he sighs heartily. “But see, I’m a greedy man, not a good man.” 

Abruptly, his countenance falls flat. 

“And my job isn’t fun, so you’re out of luck.” 

Immediately, you’re frantic, trying your hardest to ignore his obvious statement to leave. The last thing you need is to run out of luck, run out of options.

And so, you hastily wrack your mind for a solution, an excuse, whatever keeps you in this dimly lit room.

“You- You were part of the Red Plague, weren’t you?” Spitting out words from the depths of your racing mind, The Alchemist stops, fixing you with an unreadable look.

Red Plague as in, the group of young men enlisted during the war that all died of a deadly disease but one. One who, many speculate is the man before you.

Breathe in.

“I may not know much about you, but I know what it’s like to want to save somebody.”

Breathe out.

Now it was his turn to stand there, and for a second you swore you saw a flash of sympathy cross his face.

You wet your lips. “I’ll run your errands and wash your clothing, I’ll clean this place spotless. Plus, it’s not like I’m a woman asking for a job, so please, give me a chance.” 

Slowly, The Alchemist raises a brow, laugh disbelieving.

“Since when did being a woman have anything to do with this?” 

Huh?

How.. odd.

If anything, the majority would wholeheartedly agree, likely hiring you on the spot with how impalpable such a jest seemed.

He would’ve laughed, maybe slapped your back. Would’ve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, proclaimed you his friend.

Yet, you almost feel flattered. Flattered in a strange, unrealistic manner. 

Basking in a deplorable quietness, The Alchemist sighs, combing a gloved hand through silken strands. 

“I have a spare room around that corner.” He points, leather gloves narrowly highlighted by orange lighting.  “Make yourself useful, hm?”

And like that, even if it was a long shot, you landed it. More specifically, landed a job. 

How preposterous. 

How exciting. 

Yet, it began hesitantly. As if he was initially testing your usefulness. Sending you on runs to the nearby gardens, having you make sure a concoction didn’t derange itself while he fetched better flasks. Easy things.

However, you didn’t complain. A boring job was better than no job, and as long as a few coins were emptied into your pocket afterward, you’d continue to work without whining.  

Burdock, oregano. Motherwort that would erupt billows of chemically-infused air when added to oils or sugars.  

Then you noticed The Alchemist. His quirks, his  characteristics. 

He shifts between a long trench coat or tight vests, his hair is always styled a certain way, though some days, when he just wakes up, he has this tiny bird nest of hair atop his head, it’s charming. 

He yawns a lot. 

He wears heeled shoes, maybe from his shorter height, maybe preference. 

And rather peculiarly, the longer you stay in his lair, the greater you notice the many scars littering his forearms, collarbones. Miniature cuts and imprints left on porcelain skin. 

Those observations, conjoined with his reactions, make for a truly interesting character. 

Reactions being his dislike toward loud noises, the matter in which his shoulders scrunch at a loud clap outside, eyes blown wide, fearful. 

The longer you stay in his lair, the more you notice him, nonetheless his fears. Whether suspicion clarifies anything in specific, there’s no denying he’s a man of war. 

Lee Minho has secrets, and as badly as your nosiness itches to uncover them, you, as you had promised earlier, will keep your lips sealed. 

And it makes you wonder, what’s life like on your side of the street? What throng of unfairness left you awash, left you both suffering? 

You wonder about your oppositions and similarities in different points of each other’s lives. Minutes, decades before you ever met.

Certain stones shall stay unturned, but you hope, maybe one day, those questions will be answered.  

Interestingly enough, he never asked about your name; not even when you gingerly introduced yourself as your last name, a rather awkward fit.

Likewise, you don’t complain. There’s only two of you in the house after all.

A week in, you’re finally introduced to something new. 

The Alchemist plans to have you tag along with him to Port Nova, a docking station located on the outskirts of Busan.

Business thrives in ship ports, the sole source of connectivity for a growing country like Korea. Each day, millions of shipments come in from countries you can’t name, so you’re not surprised in the slightest he’s headed there for a transaction. 

You are surprised he decided to have you tag along.

Even more so that, as you hop off the transit, hurriedly tailing his left, he veers off a sharp turn, approaching a worn Burlesque Club, glittering sign halfway dangling from its perch on a scarlet red awning. 

English letters spell out Nova Burlesque, a few missing letters left astray to the side, electrical bulbs spasming with sporadic lighting on the dusty ground below.

In the daylight, the place appears ordinary, blending in with its crumbling, desolate surroundings. 

Although, you have no doubt this place utterly delights in the eve, pink-neon inviting enough to lure unaware foreigners upon first arrival. 

“Mr. Lee,” You utter, returned with a short scoff from the man who insisted you refer to him by his name, Minho. 

“Where are we going?”

It’s hesitant, unsure of whether to intervene, but Minho only smirks, whispering a not-very-assuring “You’ll see” you begrudgingly go along with. 

Inside is the last of what you anticipated. 

Oh dear.

You’ve only been to minimal Burlesque Clubs, but the ornery perspective of faux jewelry, a glittery, hallucinatory stage, and the constant rendition of Why Don’t You Do Right whirling on scratchy records isn’t present here. 

Alternatively, there’s stools scattered around a marginally illuminated clearing, some upturned, others occupied by burly men with equally burly beards. 

And in the middle, a boxing ring is situated. The stench of sweat and blood soaks the air in a metallic, pungent aroma.

A brisk realization crosses your mind, a conclusion of a sort.

Play a fool’s game, earn a fool’s reward.

Only you, Hyunjin, and Ms. Myeong know the lengths you’re willing to go to secure your family's well-being, and now, at odds you can’t compromise, you have to do everything in your power to maintain your act.

This is a test.

Sifting behind you, he murmurs a hushed: “Cover your ears.” That you begrudgingly oblige to, cupping either hand over your ears as Minho clutches his leather holster, concealed within the confines of a frequently worn coat.

In a split second, a gunshot is fired to the ceiling, the bullet's shell casing dropping atop the welt of his pointed shoe.

Stunned silence ensues.

Arm still extending the revolver in the air, you haphazardly remove your hands, dragging the hat further over your face as more eyes focus on the both of you. 

“I’m looking for Reiner and Manfred.”

The longer the tension rises, the further you grow self conscious.

“Already?” A man bellows from inside the ring, breaking the awestruck spell whilst gripping his opponent by the collar, fist poised and ready to strike. 

Unusually, they seem to know each other.

Minho merely exhales a loud sigh through his nose, practically two times smaller than his apparent acquaintance. 

Said acquaintances grumbles. 

“Leave it to our champion to interrupt the show.” 

And with that, he hooks the contender in the jaw, sending him pummeling down to the tarnished mat where hoards either cheer or groan, hustling money left and right over the victor.

Champion of the show? You’re adding that to your collection of never ending questions that’ll likely stay unanswered.

From the crowd arises two men. The victor from the ring and another from the crowd, dressed lavishly opposed to his white tank top-wearing counterpart. 

Reiner and Manfred, you assume. 

Serving as a mere shadow in The Alchemist’s wake, the four of you hustle outside, met with a nonplussed Minho and two, mildly confused (and enormously tall) men. 

Foreigners, certainly.

“..Care to introduce the pipsqueak?” Reiner presumably more talkative, piques, beady eyes scouring your figure enough to where you scorn the beads of sweat collecting upon your temple. 

Pipsqueak my foot. 

You stave down the retort, inhabiting Minho’s shadow as the three discuss matters of a hospital transaction. Almost like you weren’t there at all, as it’s always been.

If it weren’t for the technicalities, you would’ve interjected, made your presence known. Except, other than herbal instances, you’re a novice in the business department. You’ll leave that up to your current mentor to arrange.

Again, lips sealed.

Minho, ignorant to the previous victor’s question, continues to sign legal documents supplied by the calmer individual, Manfred. You internally thank the gesture.

Well, before Reiner’s sordid gaze becomes too stifling to brush off.

“I’m Mr. Lee’s apprentice, L/N. Nice to meet you,” You initiate, fearlessly reaching out a hand he heartily shakes, features graced with amusement, massive hand practically engulfing yours. 

Pardoning a gruff “Likewise”, he nearly sends you flying from the timbre of his voice alone.

“Say,” Reiner mutters, finally completing the last of the package transfers. “Don’t you think this one seems a bit feminine?”

Your jaw ticks, nervousness shrouding your being like an unrelenting fog. Minho’s fingers close around your elbow, pulling you closer, brows knit.

“Perhaps you need your eyes checked, Reiner,” He offers, tone nonchalant opposed to the vice-like grip latched to your arm.

Heftily chortling, the man only pats your back, causing your entire body to surge forward upon impact.

“Well regardless, it’s a cute little thing ain’t it?”

Manfred simply grunts his acknowledgment while you bite your tongue, coveting your retaliation when he referred to you as “it”.

No use growing angered. The feeling is futile.

Luckily, your irritable arrangement comes to a hasty close, more than gleeful to have an understandably annoyed Minho steer you from Port Nova onto a short train back to Kent Avenue, to your newly established home.

A home, but not really a home. Semi-permanent, unofficial.

Either way, you wouldn’t complain. Despite the constant efforts in diminishing your past identity, you didn’t feel as conscious when around Minho. 

Safer.

As if, in an alternative reality, you could tell him. Your truths, your burdens.

No. You won’t jeopardize this opportunity. You can’t.

At least, not yet.

“I’ll be back Mr. Lee!” You shout, wielding a briefcase bag to your person, nudging the ghoulish door open using your hip.

As usual, you’re headed off on a restocking trip.

Except on this occasion, the restocking consists of hunting down a peculiar herb: Chinese Chrysanthemum. It’s an appealing plant with fluorescent leaves and a constant need for sunlight. 

It’s no surprise he’s sent you to fetch such goods. After two months, you soared in and out of the residence routinely, scouring Korea while Minho hunched over a wildly diverse array of vials and flasks, glasses propped on his slightly hooked nose, hands firmly resting on a wooden exam table.

Studious. He is very studious. 

However, a catch diverts itself from eye view. A catch you hadn’t considered until your two feet stepped from squealing train tracks.

Somehow, although unusually intentional, you wound up in a rather peculiar area. An area you never imagined paying a visit to in your wildest dreams.

In the midst of economic outrage and warring circumstances, you’re standing in one of Korea’s most unstable, informal districts. A place that, according to your overhearing ear, was where your precious Chrysanthemum lodged.

This district had an infamous name. 

The Den.

A fitting name in actuality, where a person didn’t realize they were stuck till it was too late, unable to see where they’re going, living in belief there’s an incentive to the finish line in a race run in circles. 

Also, a place the Sharks who torment your family report to.

You can hear your heart thrumming in your ears, nearly ricocheting out of your chest with its horrid cacophony. 

Calm down. 

Calm down. Think of the goal. 

All you have to do is find a flower. 

Grounding yourself, you pinpoint some viable resources. 

Fertile soil, maybe even sandy, likely in the inner portion of The Den.

Plus, you’re dressed as a man, you might as well act outrageously boisterous.

But you’re not, you’re afraid. Perhaps not external, but inside, your lungs feel as if they’re being violently crushed, sinking deeper in an unsteady submersible to the very bottom of the ocean. And for a second, you truly contemplate going back, telling Minho you’re incapable of the task.

Yet, what would you say? You’re haunted by a vision that hasn’t happened? Fearful for a future event with no guarantee? If you had ever done something so horrid, they would’ve found you ages ago.

This time, you’re in their domain, invading what’s theirs as they’ve done to you. 

Greater. You aren’t who you used to be, in more ways than one.

Genuinely, what is there to lose?

That’s it. You’ll complete the mission and return. No run-ins, no fear barricading your job.

In and out.

Initially, you scout out your surroundings, regarding the faint sound of voices funneling in the distance, the smell of mixtures you hate being able to identify, far off machinery croaking before smoke spurs from rusted screws and bolts.

Amongst the chatter of street vendors and the many, notorious gang members patrolling in and out of abandoned shops, you roam avidly, keeping as low a profile as possible.

Number one priority is to not be noticed. Drawing attention to yourself is a one way ticket to failure, and the last thing you need is to arrive back to Minho empty-handed.

However, through the blinding clouds of smoke billowing from exhaust pipes, a specific building, shrouded in the shadows of charcoal residue, douses your peripheral.

A Greenhouse. 

Bingo.

Quickly looking around, you shrink low to the ground, racing forward to carefully creak open glass double doors and slip inside. 

It feels as if you’re enclosed in a furnace. Mere seconds in and sweat already begins gathering upon your temples.

Though that becomes the least of your concerns after assessing what lies inside. 

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of flowers and herbs. Rare species, some critically endangered, just sitting here.

It’s strange. 

Why would, in the case such an abundance existed, not be used? Why hadn’t this Greenhouse been raptured from the inside out for such valuable items? 

It’s not until a commotion stirs ahead of you that you understand the answer to the question. 

With about five plucked Chinese Chrysanthemums expertly sealed into their coordinating bags, a piercing hiss followed by multiple shouts and hollers cause you to shrink back, gazing around haphazardly.

A hiss?

From your perspective nearly kissing the dirt, your vision allows a minuscule glimpse of multiple backs turned, boisterously amused men gathering around something in the front of the Greenhouse.

You feel the need to know more.

Inching forward tip-toe by tip-toe, amidst the roaring crowd, you spare a look between the sea of legs to find an utterly deplorable sight.

A cat. 

No, not just a cat, cat fighting. They’re watching cats maul each other for the fun of it. As if they aren’t living creatures, but toys for their entertainment. 

And perhaps it’s a foolish decision, perhaps laughable being worried, being angered, but you are and you refuse to leave knowing you could’ve done something to help them.

Hastily scouring the floors, a can of Spam discarded below Foxglove stems proves useful enough, tossing it as far as possible where it whacks against the glass wall, immediately averting their attention. 

This is your chance. 

As dark clouds and incoming rain thunder outside, you don’t waste the opportunity, sprinting forward while the men make toward the direction of the sound and hoisting the first cat you see into your arms. 

Sprinting past narrow pathways and dimly lit streets, you force your eardrums numb to the threats they call after you, mind trained on one thing besides getting as far as possible from here.

To Minho to Minho to Minho.

A hand grabbing your shoulder causes you to shriek, swiftly dragged off where you swear your last breaths will be taken, the feline in your arms scrambling with panic.

“What are you doing?” Your captor furiously whispers, hidden in the low lighting of an apparent alleyway.

Wait. You recognize that voice. 

“Hyunjin?”

How does he recognize you?

Just then does a breeze swipe past your head, sending chills trickling down your rain-soaked neck. 

Your hat is gone. Must’ve fell off while you were running. 

“Wh.. what are you doing?” Slipping from his grasp after the men’s hushed conversation becomes inaudible, you regard the man with an incredulous stare.

“Answer my question first,” He reprimands, and as the cat resounds a pained meow do you assess the dire nature of the situation.

You need to get this cat to Minho, and fast. 

“Can’t- Can’t talk right now I’ve got to go—“

“Wait!”

Though, as your footsteps breach the security of the alley, the placating cry of crows mock your left, hurried footsteps belonging to those occupying the Greenhouse heading toward you in rampant haste.

Hyunjin’s hand holding your wrist, you grace a tight-lipped smile his way. 

 “Let’s not see each other like this again, okay?”

He returns a miniature grin, teeming with mischief.

“Agreed.”

Upon letting go, you race off, attempting to speedily navigate back to the train station whilst torrents of streaming droplets cascade down your face. 

“Good luck!” 

“Thanks, I’ll need it!” You respond back, voice permeated against the rain, eyes frantically searching for a place to evade. 

Finally, a crowd appears, swarming amongst diners and flickering street lights.

Your perfect hideaway. 

Swimming through the hive of people, you catapult yourself into the nearest phone booth in sight, fumbling through deep pockets before cashing a coin into the metal slot and jarring your index over slippery metal numbers.

Praying the combination is correct as you hold the wired telephone to your ear, you’re consumed with utmost relief upon hearing The Alchemist’s voice answer on the other side of the crackling line.

Amidst roaring rainfall drowning the booth, you differentiate shouting a ways off, likely belonging to the men from earlier. 

“Mr- Mr. Lee?”

“Yes? Where are you?”

“Are you.. Are you allergic to cats?”

Never in your life did you think you would be so overjoyed seeing blue doors. 

Clambering inside—the rather upset cat in your arms hissing their dismay—you’re overwhelmed with an unexplainable happiness seeing Minho’s face peer from the guest room. 

Relief.

“L/N wha..” 

Words dying in his throat as he gives you a speechless once over, your urge to hug him dissipates instantly, beckoning a new set of garments upon realizing how utterly drenched your precious disguise is.

Simultaneously shoving the cat his way before rushing to your room, you thankfully strip of your fretfully cold attire, welcomed in the comforting embrace of clean clothing.

A mere five minutes later you exit, greeted by Minho’s stockstill frame. Hand half-raised, evidently about to knock.

You forcefully clear your throat, praying the momentary awkward tension is alleviated.

Luckily, The Alchemist takes it upon himself to break the spell, eyes dancing across the floorboards in order to avoid your own.

“Well, she’s stable. Her vitals are fine, nothing too critical apart from a few cuts here and there. Just shaken up.”

Your stare of astonishment earns a confused tip of his head.

“That fast?”

Said (apparently female) cat rubbing her body along your calf with an obviously delighted purr, you appear nearly concussed, crouching down to pat the soft, striped fur lining her back.

Minho snorts.

“What can I say, I get work done.”

Maybe he is a vampire after all.

Mirroring your crouch, he watches your interaction, similarly feline-like inspection unnoticed till glancing up.

And for a swift moment, you swear he saw through you. Lips parted, eyes scrutinizing. Piecing together the building blocks to a wavering structure you’d strived so hard to build, to protect.

No. You’re overthinking. He couldn’t possibly know.

You failed to notice the forlorn look on his face, one that ushers to ask if you’re okay, fetch a hot beverage to warm your evidently cold hands.

“Might I ask how you ended up bringing this one home?”

Leave it to him to take the title as your greatest ally and worst enemy at the same time.

Ah. Right.

“Y’know I was about to get to that-” 

You pause, deriding the high pitch of your voice into something more appropriate. He cocks a brow.

“As I was saying, it wasn’t my intention to bring her back, but the place she was trapped at, the place with the men- the plants..”

According to his expression, you’ve grown two heads.

…

“Go on.”

“Look, the place I found the Chrysanthemum was having cat fights. Do you remember hearing about the dog fights in Gangwon? It’s the same thing. We can’t just sit still while they’re torturing innocent animals.”

“I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m an Alchemist, not a hero,” He sighs, and your hand stalls its petting, face falling while the cat in your lap flicks her tail back and forth expectantly.

He has a point. You got yourself into this, you went into the Greenhouse. It’s not his duty to clean up after your messes, but perhaps you can convince him, even by a small margin.

Play a fools game, earn a fools reward.

You’ll mop the floor of your own mess.

“Minho, please. Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?” 

Stifling silence making an additional appearance, you nervously await the verdict, perched rather hilariously outside of your bedroom door.

Chewing the skin of his cheek, he scolds himself for falling so susceptible to you, though you won’t ever know that.

“Fine, but you’d better have a plan.”

Ah. Great.

You don’t.

At dawn’s arrival you’re swept upward, fixing a hasty bout of tea and toast prior to dressing in the privacy of your appreciated quarters. 

You don a much-needed hat, hopping aboard the first train of the day with a well-dressed Minho in tow.

Retracing your steps turns out easier than you anticipated, The Alchemist tailing you as you had done him at Port Nova.

Though, just when the task seemed a cake walk, you manage a meager detour, regarding your unimpressed mentor.

“From what I can remember, it’s around here somewhere. But I might be wrong, I stumbled upon it by accident and it looks a bit scary but I think—“

“Stop! Stop- Stop talking. Please.”

You quickly shut your mouth, allowing the man to lead instead till the sight of familiar landmarks becomes a gradual reassurance of your location.

Perhaps now it’s safe to talk.

“Mr. Lee, what did Reiner mean by calling you a champion-“

Shoved against the brick wall, your sentence dies instantly, panickedly glancing in all directions assessing the all too familiar pistol Minho‘s drawn, conspicuous in close proximity. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He enunciates, tone unusually gruff whilst scanning your surroundings.

Your face warms an involuntary pink you clamber to ward off, drawn to the sight of his tense jaw and the feather-like arrangement of long lashes, focused on something elsewhere.

Your retort dies not only from his beauty, but upon the familiar Greenhouse coming into view.

“Looks like we found where your little friends are playing.”

Though, as the man begins forward, you grab him by the sleeve.

“Wait! We can’t just waltz in.”

His hand, slipping from the warmth of his pocket, cups your chin, unbearably close to your face to the point you can feel his breath on your nose. 

Curse the butterflies.

“Well there’s no need for an introduction, so let’s listen this time, shall we?”

Left at a loss for words either from your slack mouth or the concerning amount of sweat building upon your palms, you don’t argue back, lingering right outside the door, craning to hear voices. 

By the sound of it, at least four people are inside at the moment, and the longer you stay out here, the more ample time becomes for additional threats to show up. 

As if reading your mind, he slips through the rugged door, gesturing for you to follow while silently navigating through dense, humid underbrush and overgrown foliage.

However, your quiet voyage is quelled when a twig, unbeknownst to the two of you, cracks under the pressure of his foot. 

“Shit,” He mutters, cringing back at the immediate quietness that ensued.

The Alchemist curses as well.

Interesting.

Amidst the men bearing closer, Minho turns to you, tone urgent. 

“When I get up, you run and free the cats. Don’t look back, just go.”

Nodding hastily, you reacquaint yourself with the area, ensuring a dead set beeline to where the cats were held without interruptions. 

Minho, a split second before you can ask a question, whips the gun from his coat pocket, the sound of bullets whipping through the air enough indication it’s time you go.

Finnicking hands make it hard to unscrew the wired cages, surges of adrenaline helping speed up the rescue as you double check every feline has escaped.

Heeding to instruction, you don’t look for The Alchemist, solely driven to freeing the cats and fleeing the scene. No more problems. 

Almost an exact replica to your last visit here, a hand drags you off right as you exit the Greenhouse doors, back pressed against his (whom you realized was Minho, not Hyunjin, thanks to the leather gloves) front. 

And perhaps from running, perhaps from something else, you can feel his heartbeat, oscillating in a nonstop orchestra that sends your own heart pounding from the confines of your rib cage. 

Stifling a shaky inhale you’d held in as the last of the perpetrators scattered elsewhere, you instantly step back, denying every urge to coddle him like a child, fretfully check him for injury. 

A certain fondness lay reserved for Lee Minho, a fondness you can’t discern of at the moment. 

“C’mon, quick, Soonie might get scared if we’re gone for too long,” He ushers, crashing your tunneling train of thought right off its rails in the process. 

“Yeah-“

You stop.

“Soonie?”

“Yeah, Soonie.”

“You named her?”

“..Yes.”

It’s a genuine struggle hiding your laugh.

“I didn’t find you the type to take in cats.”

“Today you’ve been proven wrong, apparently.”

A sort of giddiness you never experienced fills your chest, wishing nothing more than to look back at the man and swoon. 

How could you not? He was very much dexterous, and attractive without a doubt, that much was known to anyone who laid eyes on The Alchemist.  

Your trek home proved relatively easy, able to skillfully get to the station away from prying eyes and trod along a mixture of gravel and dusty roads without issue.

Silently celebrating your success, you nudge your counterpart's hip, the unimpressed side-eye he grants doing little to dull your happiness.

“Aren’t you an Alchemist? How come you’re oddly good with a gun?”

He clicks his tongue.

“Aren’t you my apprentice? How come you’re getting yourself into trouble when your only instruction was to fetch herbs?”

You conceal a smile he obviously catches, glare failing to quiet your bubbling laughter, his own lips tugging upward.

“It was necessary Mr. Lee! And you know you love Soonie.”

“Unfortunately.”

Nearly a month into her residence, and Soonie has become an effervescent force to be reckoned with. Although initially sassy and wary, she’s transformed into the most affectionate cat you’d ever met.

You have to give it to her, she’s grown on the both of you, a lot.

Plus, you might just have to thank her for unleashing Minho’s tender side, whether that’s the two of them cuddling on the couch while he naps or him picking her up and treating her like a baby while you watch from afar. 

Over the course of the five months you’ve been here, you’ve sent countless checks back home—enough to where dues could finally be paid and the hope for a good life came into view.

Everything seems right, seems ideal. 

But of course, on an equally ideal Thursday evening, a thousand pounds of bricks drops right on top of your head. 

“How long were you planning to keep it from me?” 

He, Lee Minho, The Alchemist, voices.

Simultaneously, your stomach plummets to your feet, peeking over your shoulder to find his back facing you, hunched over a straus flask. 

Then the bomb drops.

“You being a woman, that is.” 

Abruptly pausing, you don’t reply, worried you’d say the wrong thing, unintentionally summon the catalyst to this arising catastrophe. 

Yet, you can’t stay quiet for too long. And a fear lingered inside, a fear that if he looked at you, you would break.

“Forever.” 

Doing just what you dreaded, he turns to you, wearing a horribly serious expression. 

You avoid eye-contact. 

“Because you thought I would fire you?”

A nod. 

“And that’s why you said that, when you first came to me? That you weren’t a woman asking for a job?” 

Another nod. 

He sighs, pulling glasses from atop a hooked nose. You remain staring at the floor.

“I don’t decide who to hire based on what they are. If you can do your job and do it well, you’re worthy enough to work.”

Minho spoke softly, the dim, orange lighting of his lamplight doing little to shake how overwhelming the occasion is, how it feels as if your disguise is wearing, thinning to an impossible degree. 

Except, your world isn’t ending like you thought it would if someone found out, so why do you feel so heartbroken? So overstimulated with realization?

“How did you..” you trail off, raging tears longing to spill. 

No, you can’t afford to cry now. You’ve held out so far, it will stay that way. 

Should stay that way.

Minho dips his head lower in order to fully see you in all your lip-chewing, anxiety-ridden glory. The ghost of a smile rests upon his lips. 

“It was impossible not to tell. You’re unusually tiny, those shoes are massive, and, um, I do the laundry.” 

Watching his once bemused expression dissipate, you mark this as the first time you’ve ever seen him genuinely flustered—and, upon realizing he’d likely seen more than necessary as well, you’re also diminished to a bright red. 

The room wilts in stillness before he exhales, stepping a bit closer to where you linger by the bookshelf, your heels tapping against the frame. 

Tone minimizing itself terribly gentle, The Alchemist carefully collects your cheeks in his hands, urging you to see him, see those terribly thoughtful brown eyes granting a terribly kind disposition. 

“It’s been scary, hasn’t it?” 

Well, you had held out thus far.

Cracking into pieces, you melt like droplets of honey in his fingertips. He perfectly catches them in the jar. 

Out of anyone in this world, you can’t help but be grateful he was the one who found out, found you.

Chest bubbling with breaking sobs, Minho’s thumbs caress your under eyes, swiping away the many salty droplets in their continuous descent. 

Own hands shakily reaching up to hold his resting on your face, you stand there, soaking in his wooded, earthy scent and the soft hums he occasionally emits as if a reminder he’s still there, listening to your cries without intent to leave.

“Mr.. Mr. Lee… It was so scary, I’m so tired Mr. Lee,” You hiccup, mentally berating the endlessly freefalling tears, how your once staved emotions reduced your strong, dutiful voice into nothing but a stuttering mess.

Carefully swiping drool from your chin, he leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know why you did it, but I promise it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

Then another kiss to your forehead, staying there until your sniffling and breathing calms.

Gathering yourself if only slightly, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a warm hug he gradually accepts after a beat of shock. 

“Thank you, Minho.” 

And just when he thought the shock faded, he’s struck again from the sound of his name leaving your mouth.

Minho. 

Mr. Lee had been charming, but Minho, it was different. A good kind of different. 

He particularly favored the way it sounded falling off your lips, two syllables he’d replay over and over, savoring each a little bit more than the last.

More so, he wished to substitute his nagging thoughts with you, have you narrate the phrases bouncing inside his skull.

Perhaps then everything wouldn’t be so loud, if he had your voice to nullify the battlefield.

Unfortunately forced to separate, Minho adjusts his tie, clearing his throat in a manner you can’t help but feel nervous about. 

You like this flustered Minho.

“I’ll.. I’ll run you a bath.” 

You wince at the rawness of your skin when your face wrinkles in a chuckle.

“Do I smell?” 

Minho, frantically scrambling for an excuse, rubs his temples, exasperation evident in the grooves of his face, the curve and dip of prominent cheekbones portraying a mature visage.

“No I-“ He grumbles. “It helps calm you down.” 

Merely able to halfway staunch your irrevocable glee, you call his name as he begins stepping out, ears an adorable pink.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. L/N is my last name.”

Not allowing you view of his front-side, you listen to his whispering with delight, testing the newly discovered title on his tongue as if to memorize it.

Ah, you’re falling in love.

Or maybe you’ve already fallen.

Hastily closing the door behind himself and letting you get situated in the bath, it’s not long into your relaxing that you notice a shadow seeping through the door’s crack, a figure standing there, debating.

“Minho?” You announce amusedly, watching the shadow jump and causing you to bite your frothing laugh whilst choosing what to say next. 

“Would you like to join me?”

The Alchemist audibly chokes on his saliva outside the door. 

Sparing a few seconds for him to collect his oxygen, you hadn’t been prepared for when he replies a quiet: “Another time”.

Your eyebrows shoot up with surprise. 

Daring. 

Then his shadow, after furious shuffling, disappears, serving as a reminder of your extended time spent bathing. 

Assembling the copper drain and pulling foreign nightwear over dampened skin, opposed to your usual rush to your room, you allow the chilling air to grant its harsh greeting, leaving the steamy room in its wake.

No more secrets. What a breath of fresh air.

Minho, still cooped up at his desk like routine, barely moves when you place your hands on his shoulders, adorning those charismatic glasses, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“You should go get some rest Mr– Minho,” You beckon, response a sleepy blink of his eyes, obviously exhausted.

“...I really wanted to kiss you.”

The remark drifting off as a murmur, you crane to hear him, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. 

“Hm?” Humming, you lightly push his back toward his quarters, the man begrudgingly following your inaudible orders. 

At least he’s cooperating.

Abruptly, he turns around, evading your hands that ease his back forward, sporting a pout adorable enough you might just lose your mind.

How unfair that someone could behave like this and expect you to not go insane.

“When you started crying.” His eyes flicker to your lips, if only for a moment. “I really wanted to kiss you.”

A portion of your stock-still frame wants to blame his tiredness, but another so badly wants it to be true, wants those words to be irrevocably real.

Fighting the urge to scream with how stupidly childish he’s making you feel, you reject every ounce of sensibility, looping one arm around his neck, using your other hand’s index to tug him closer by the belt loop. 

Trust, the feeling is mutual.

Why waste the opportunity?

“What’s stopping you?” 

The utterance barely graces air, and in milliseconds he’s crashing into your lips, a wordless confession it is real, not a mere figment of your imagination.

Stumbling to loosen his tie whilst keeping your faces impossibly connected, you fall deeper and deeper into the manner he tilts his head, expertly diminishing you into puddy in his touch. 

Back and forth, memorizing your taste on his tongue. 

Clumsy footsteps lead to his sofa, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, his kneading your waist.  

And it’s not until your lungs cry for oxygen that you pull apart, Minho’s bottom lip tugged and bitten, yours swollen with his feverish kisses. 

Both of you avidly messy, you can’t bring yourself to care, too busy enjoying the afterglow, his dazed smile.

“Whoever you want to save,” He starts, carefully smoothing over your skin with his thumb . “I will save them, deal?”

Returning that same lazy smile he directs at you, the both of you lean back on the couch, a twine of legs and limbs flailing in every direction.

Close, closer. 

A part of you aches at the thought, blinking up at such a stunning tragedy. Aches knowing you can’t return the favor, can’t say the same, promise him that same promise. 

Because according to the Red Plague, he’s lost that person, those people. So you remain silent, merely hoping one day they’ll receive proper eternal rest. 

That's something you might be able to promise.

Tipping your chin up to where it sits right above his heart, those brilliant eyes of yours blinking up at him do little for his well-being. 

Has anyone told you you’re beautiful? Because he thinks you are, he knows you are. 

Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?

Minho grins deeper, brows creasing, expression doused in unadulterated adoration. 

“And yet, you rope me into something else,” He whispers to himself. 

“What was that?”  

“Nothing, let’s run another bath. I’ll join you this time, hm?”

FIC TAGLIST. @linocz @foxinnie8 @wonniesverse

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #straykids x you #straykids x y/n #straykids x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #leeknow x y/n #leeknow x you #leeknow x reader #leeknow fluff #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #leeknow angst #lee minho angst #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #straykids fluff

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Daughter’s First Words » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Leah

Summary: Bucky’s and Y/N’s daughter says her first words.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, hugs and kisses, use of nicknames/pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

“Say mama.” You say to yours and Bucky’s 7 month old daughter Leah.

Leah made a babbling and reached for your necklace. You groaned, dropping your head against the back of the couch. Your daughter giggled at your frustration. Since Leah is inching closer to her first birthday, you and Bucky have been trying to get her to talk.

“Please, sweetie. It’s not that hard.” You pleaded softly. “Say mama.” You say.

Leah made another babbling noise which quickly turned into an excited squeal when Bucky walked in the living room.

“What are my favorite girls doing?” Bucky asks, sitting down on the couch next to you and Leah.

“I’m trying to get Leah to say mama.” You tell him.

“I see your problem.” He starts. “You’re saying it wrong it’s pronounced dada.” He says jokingly.

“No, I believe I’m saying it right. Say mama, Leah.” You say.

“Say dada.” Bucky says.

Leah looks from you to her daddy. Her lower lip quivered, feeling overwhelmed. Her eyes teared up.

“Don’t cry, baby.” You cooed softly, gently rocking her in your arms.

Leah sniffles and looked at her daddy, reaching for him and doing grabby hands. Bucky took her from your arms and laid her against his chest, rubbing her back to soothe her. Soon her eyes began to droop as sleepiness took over her.

“You tired, princess?” Bucky asks, looking down at her.

She made a babbling noise like she was saying yes.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He says, carefully standing up with Leah securely in his arms.

Bucky changed Leah’s diaper and put her pajamas on. He read her a bedtime story while carefully rocking her to sleep. You walked in Leah’s nursery at the end of the story. You walked over to your husband and daughter, giving Leah a kiss on the top of her head. Bucky gave her a kiss before putting her in her crib. You two quietly left her nursery and closed the door.

“We’ll try more tomorrow, doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you and kisses your lips. “Let’s go to bed.” He says.

The next morning, you and Bucky woke up to the sound of Leah crying. You were getting up, but Bucky stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“I got her, doll.” He says softly.

You laid back down and Bucky got out of bed to get Leah. Leah stopped crying and her eyes instantly lit up when she seen her daddy. She reached up for him, doing grabby hands to get him to pick her up.

“There’s my little princess.” Bucky cooes, picking her up. “Good morning.” He says softly.

Leah made a babbling noise and reached for his dog tags, her little hand grasping the chain and held it tightly.

“I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, princess?” He playfully poking her belly, making her giggle. “Let’s get my princess something to eat.” He says.

Bucky went to the kitchen and made a bottle for Leah. He went back to her nursery and fed her while gently rocking her in the rocking chair that’s in her nursery. You woke up an hour later and reached an arm out for your husband, only to find out that he wasn’t in bed with you. You rubbed your eyes and got out of bed. You heard talking coming from Leah’s nursery so you went in there.

“Say dada.” Bucky says to Leah.

Leah just babbled and held onto the chain of his dog tags. Soon her attention was on you. She let out an excited squeal when she seen you.

“There’s mama.” Bucky cooes, pointing at you.

You approached them and gave both of them a kiss on the cheek.

“Is daddy trying to get you to talk?” You asked her.

She babbled, reaching for your -Bucky’s- t-shirt and tugging on it, wanting you to hold her. You carefully took her from Bucky.

“Do you want to help mommy make breakfast?” You asked her.

Leah let out an excited squeal and clapped her little hands together, making you and Bucky smile at her cuteness. You made your way downstairs to the kitchen with Bucky following behind you. You put Leah in her high chair so she can watch you make breakfast. You were getting everything you needed to make breakfast when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“What are you making for breakfast?” Bucky asks curiously.

“Pancakes.” You answered.

“I love your pancakes, but I love you and Leah more.” He says, kissing your cheek.

Meanwhile, something on the kitchen counter caught Leah’s attention. It was a bowl of plums. She wanted one and tried to reach for it, but she was too far away from it. She huffed and tried to come up with a way to get the plums. The only thing that came to her little mind is what you and Bucky have been trying to teach her all week. She decided to give it a try.

“P-P-P-” Leah starts, babbling a little.

You and Bucky quickly turned your attention to Leah.

“Oh my god! I think she’s going to say papa!” Bucky says excitedly.

You and Bucky approached Leah as she was trying to say her first word.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can do it. Say papa.” He cooes at her.

“P-P-Plum.” She finally says.

Your jaw dropped while Bucky was having a proud dad moment.

“Do you want a plum?” He asks her.

“Plum.” She says again.

Bucky got a plum and cut it up for Leah. He put the plate in front of her. She curiously looked at the cut up plum on the plate before picking up a piece and put it in her mouth. Since she didn’t have many teeth, she just sucked the juice off of it. A smile grew on her face and she clapped her little hands together, trying to tell you guys that she likes it.

“Do you like the plum?” Bucky asks her.

“Plum!” Leah says happily.

You were still in shock, but happy that your daughter said her first word. You were expecting her to say mama or dada, not plum.

“You said your first word, sweetie!” You tell her.

Leah smiles up at you and her daddy with plum juice on her face. Bucky got a towel and gently wiped it off. She curiously grasped one of Bucky’s vibranium fingers.

“D-D-Dada.” Leah slowly pronounces. “Dada!” She says more clearly.

“That’s right! I’m dada. You’re so smart, princess.” Bucky cooes. “Can you tell me who that is?” He asks, pointing at you.

“M-M-Mama.” She pronounces. “Mama!” She says.

“That’s right! I’m mama.” You cooed at her.

You went back to making breakfast a few minutes later with a smile on your face while Bucky was feeding Leah plums and tried to get her to say Steve. She couldn’t pronounce his name very well so she said Steeb. He was trying to teach her how to say Sam, but she ended up saying Ham instead.

“Told you she’d say dada before mama.” Bucky says with a grin on his face, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“Shut up.” You jokingly mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

Bucky gently turned your head and gave you a kiss on your lips. The kiss was short lived when Leah shouted.

“Icky!” Leah shouts, covering her eyes with her little hands.

You two couldn’t help but laugh at how cute she’s being. Bucky went back to Leah, seeing that she ate most of her plum.

“You want another plum, princess?” Bucky asks.

“Plum, dada!” She says.

“Looks like we’re having plums for breakfast.” He says, looking at you with a silly grin on his face.

“She’s so your daughter, Bucky.” You say, playfully shaking your head at your husband.

Bucky just continued to grin as he got another plum for Leah.

“Mama?” Leah says.

“Yes, sweetie?” You asked.

“Plum?” She asks, giving you her last piece of plum.

“Thank you, baby.” You smiled and ate the plum.

“Dada doesn’t get a plum?” Bucky asks, playfully pouting.

Leah grabbed a piece of plum and handed it to her daddy.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He smiles and ate the plum.

After Leah was done eating her plum, Bucky gently cleaned the plum juice off her face. He picked her up from her high chair and took her to the living room to watch TV while you cleaned up from breakfast. When you were done, you joined your husband and daughter in the living room. Leah was seconds from falling asleep.

“Someone is sleepy.” You say to Leah.

Leah snuggled herself against Bucky, her little hand holding tightly onto the chain of his dog tags. You sat down next to Bucky, cuddling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his right arm around you protectively while his metal arm had a protective hold on Leah.

“I love you, girls.” Bucky says softly.

“We love you too, Buck.” You say with a smile.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#sergeant james buchanan barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #avengers #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #husband!bucky #dad!bucky #wife!reader #mom!reader

[praeluxius]

Blasé

part 4 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x kim minju (ex-iz*one) ft yujin, gaeul and rei of Ive

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

words: 9.15k - a lot of set-up in here for future parts, sorry

Blasé - indifferent

It’s a far cry from elegance—the way you’re both scooping up pieces of clothing from the ground.

"Trousers?" You’re scanning wall to wall, behind stools and tables until your eyes rest on the woman across the room. "Where did they go?"

Minju's got her hands at her waist, fitting her own trousers. “Over there.” She simply tilts her head in a direction of vague guidance.

Aside from the distant voice from the flickering television in the corner, showing scenes of the news, and the soft sounds of jazz music, there's an uneasy amount of silence for a bar in the mid-afternoon. Another knock at the door—Wonyoung must be getting impatient. No surprise.

You're pulling on your trousers as Minju slides her arms into her blazer, settling it onto her shoulders. As she brushes down her clothes, fixes her hair and steps over to her shoes, she has shifted back into the unassuming young woman you first set your eyes on. Not a trace of the indecency remains. Not even a slight indication that, despite the attempt she made to clean up with a few napkins, there's likely still your cum running from her cunt.

She has spent the past couple of minutes explaining how this will go—how you're going to sit back at the bar and Minju is going to re-open as if nothing happened. She didn't tell you exactly how she plans to deal with the Wonyoung problem, but, ‘just let me handle it’ is somehow enough for you.

You sit where it all started, joining your drink at the bar. The last remnants greet you in a sorry state of neglect. You do what you can to straighten up, a hand through your hair, a smoothing down of the wrinkles in your shirt, and a tug on the sleeves to straighten the cuffs. It is when you start to think you've got yourself somewhat under control that you realise just how bad you must look. There’s the undeniable sign that you can’t ignore—that rising tide of musk and sweat from your body and the discomfort it brings.

Another loud rattle of the door against the frame, vibrating across the hinges and into the metal fixings. A call of your name, but it's not quite how you think it should sound.

Minju flicks a series of locks on the door; three separate bolts—heavy-duty clunking metal. Finally, she drops the latch and unlocks the main lock. She has her hand on the handle of the door and she hesitates, looking over her shoulder to check on you once again. One last look.

Just smile.

She opens the door, standing in the opening, between you and the woman outside.

"Wonyo—" Minju begins. "Sorry, who are you?"

You twist in your seat and watch the scene unfold. You expect anger, an outpouring of venom from a woman so full of ego, arrogance, vanity, and maybe even jealousy.

Reality is far from the expectation.

The woman asks Minju if you're here, and while you're still racking your mind to work out who she is, Minju lets her in and, in a way, you're grateful for seeing her walk into the room and folding her umbrella.

"Gaeul?"

"Finally, I was a minute away from leaving. What were you—" She looks around the room, at the out-of-place stools, and then at you. She scrunches her nose and sniffs, confirming her suspicions through the scent of sex. "Oh."

She turns her eyes to Minju. Gaeul lingers, eyes fixed on the bartender's face.

"We... we were talking." Minju chuckles in amusement.

"With the door locked?" Gaeul is easy to read, even across the room, and you can see the genuine concern on her face. You hear it in her voice too. Suddenly, even being here feels wrong. Discomforting is the silence. Unnerving is the smile that stretches on Minju's face—a much prouder look than you're giving.

"Relax darling, we were just talking, and then…" Minju dismisses and Gaeul rolls her eyes.

"No, no. Please. Don't say another word," Gaeul waves her hands in front of her, a gesture of surrender. "I don't want to know the details."

"You sure you don't want to hear about how he just—?"

"No. Just no." Gaeul turns from the grinning woman and heads to you.

She struts in that same determined way she always does. Steady are her paces. Bag over her shoulder, short hair half-tied up and black jeans hugging her legs. As usual, she dons the casual grace that suits her so well.

“Bro, what the hell happened?”

“You seriously don’t know?” you answer the question with a question.

“You got called away. Wonyoung said she had somewhere to be and the rest of us were left waiting, but nothing ever happened. Then classes end and Wonyoung finally just tells me I could find you here.”

“I’m in a shit-storm, Gaeul.” You say, resigned to your seat.

Figuratively, of course. Though Gaeul looks like she’s been in one herself as she throws her rain-drenched raincoat over a stool. The one outside probably isn’t bad enough to require a name, but you know the one that you’re facing all too well. Storm Wonyoung.

You recount the abridged version for her. Of course, the details of you and Wonyoung and your benefits need little introduction. As for the rest, it’s difficult to explain the parts you still don’t understand, like how this all comes down and you and you alone. It takes two to fuck.

"You can't just hide in here from it all."

You laugh a little and say, "not hiding." An obvious lie, and Gaeul gives you a forced smile that says she's not convinced.

"You had us worried."

“Even Wonyoung?” you ask; it’s a test more than a question. You know the answer. You know that she doesn’t give a shit, but you want to see if Gaeul tries to sell the lie.

"Ha! That would be a first." Minju mocks with a scoff. She walks back to where you first found her, behind the bar, and she's still pulling and tugging at her shirt to get the fit back how she likes it.

"I’m sure she does," Gaeul says, with little confidence in her words. She sits herself down next to you and drops her bag off her shoulder and onto the bar.

"You’re still trying to convince yourself," Minju mutters with a shake of her head. "She really has you all around her little finger."

Gaeul is trying her best to ignore the interruptions. "Wony and Yujin—they can fix this."

"Yujin, huh? Now that's a new name." Minju interjects yet again, looking at you with eyes sharp enough to cut. She has her back to the shelf of alcohol, her arms folded under her chest. The more you think about it—the more the pieces seem to fall into place—the clearer it becomes that Yujin is the best friend who replaced Minju.

You scratch your ear. What a mess.

"Gaeul, there's no way the school let me back in."

"You don't know that."

Minju steps forward, a little closer. Her tongue dances across her lips as she readies herself to speak. "Oh, you think Wonyoung is going to get daddy's money and pay your way out of this mess? What's she going to tell her father? Hey daddy, please can you bribe the school to help this guy who's been fucking your princess silly? Seriously? She’s probably the one who got you kicked out in the first place."

That same laughter. That same mocking, belittling attitude that Minju had toward the idea of Wonyoung earlier. As if Minju sees nothing but weakness. Sure, Wonyoung has her fair share of faults, and sometimes she comes off too entitled, but right now, in this situation, her heart is actually in the right place. Or that's at least what Gaeul is saying.

“She would never do that! Wonyoung takes care of her friends and I’m sure she…” Gaeul gives up on her argument as Minju continues to laugh in the face of it.

Minju holds one elbow in the palm of the other hand and places her index finger on her cheek. She flicks it over to Gaeul and points. “Where are my manners? Drink?”

"Coffee, I guess."

"Come on, we're in a bar, let me pour you a—"

"No." Gaeul snaps. "All that stuff does is tear lives apart." An unexpected sternness in her tone—not one you’re accustomed to. There's a hardness that washes over her features—even her hair seems to have stood up a bit on end.

"Gaeul, it's just a drink—"

"That's how it starts and before you know it—" The door opens and a couple of men walk in, silencing her. They look to choose their seats and Gaeul seems to shrink into her stool.

"Alright. Coffee it is," Minju says before shifting her focus to you. "Anyway, Yujin—you fucking her too?"

"No." It's not a lie. Close call? Sure. Want to? Of course. Fucking her? No.

With Minju it just seems like if you give her any opportunity to fan the flames and she’s there. She’s the type to see you caught in a storm and perform a rain dance.

She laughs. She knows. It’s written on your face. "Of course not. Maybe she will let you one day." Minju laughs again and turns to pour out a coffee from the machine on the back of the bar.

Gaeul leans in close, making sure Minju can't hear you over the sounds of the coffee machine whirring to life. She whispers, "bro, what’s wrong with this girl? And how does she know Wonyoung?"

"High school or something. They go back. Way back."

Minju approaches you, drink in hand, and without a word, places the coffee in front of Gaeul. Her expression speaks a hundred mocking words, and she shows little remorse for how she only seems to have stirred the pot further. Her earlier words ring in your ears—how you should be more selfish and that there's more to life than Wonyoung and Yujin.

But here's the hitch.

The problem.

You can't shake the feeling that you really like those girls. No matter how complex their games get or how hard they play with your emotions. There's some innate charm about the two of them; a kind of charisma that not only attracts but holds. No matter how impossible their demands are, you keep on wanting more. 

You're attracted to their sheer arrogance. Drawn by the magnetism of their utter assurance. Entranced at the depth and certainty of their convictions. And if Minju could read your thoughts right now, she would tell you just how stupid you sound.

As Minju walks away and towards her new patrons, sitting at the other end of the bar, you can only admire her.

Not just physically, but who she is. She doesn't care what other people think. She lives for herself.

"Bro, you gonna keep staring her down like that or you gonna talk to me?"

"Gaeul, I have to ask: why are you here?"

"To save you from doing something stupid. Though I might be too late." Gaeul throws a side-eye down the bar to Minju while she takes a drink.

"Don't take it out on her." You shrug. "She—"

"Hey, I get it, she's hot," Gaeul rests her cup back on the bar and brushes a hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "I could tell when I walked in. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together, but what I don’t understand is you. Do you just enjoy being used by anyone with a nice body?" Gaeul put her hand up between you, palm showing, stopping you from replying. “Actually, don't answer that. What I'm saying is, don't you want more?”

Gaeul takes another drink from her coffee, holding you in suspense. The truth is that you don't really have an answer and you're not in any state of mind right now to make one.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we girls talk. About love and relationships and sex and well... Just stop being so naïve, will you? If you get caught up playing the game, you're the one that's going to end up played." She picks the cup up again, cradling the warm mug between her fingers, wrapping her slender digits around it, squeezing gently. A long inhale follows as the aroma rises, the scent strong and enticing.

"I didn't ask for any of this." It's a defence so weak that you don't even support yourself. It's a hard denial of the fact that you have been used. Wonyoung has had you under her thumb from the start. And maybe you have gotten a little too comfortable under there.

"Listen, stop thinking with your cock for one day, bro. Tomorrow morning, go pick Yujin up from her house and take her out to get a dress for the party." She's talking fast, laying out a plan you weren't prepared for.

"She asked you earlier, remember, and don't worry, I already picked out a few that I know she will like. I'll text you the photos and what stores they're in. And for the love of god, just enjoy her company without trying to cum on her."

You shouldn’t feel insulted by that, but you do. These girls really share everything.

Gaeul continues her instructions, "and then you turn up at the party on time, take the opportunity to forget everything that's happened and have a fun evening with Yujin, okay?"

It sounds so logical that it's impossible not to follow—even if it's rarely ever that simple. You agree. A silent nod, but enough to assure her that her words have reached you.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

Gaeul places the coffee mug back down on the table, pushes it away, and turns to face you. "Please make sure you dress nice, too. None of this"—she motions to your clothes—"can make an appearance. Seriously.” She smiles to herself as she stands up from the stool.

"Did I hear something about a party?" Minju returns with a renewed smile.

Gaeul rolls her eyes and gives you a slight shake of her head. Her way of letting you know that she has already seen enough of the new addition to your life.

"I think I've spent enough time here already. You should probably get home, too.”

You glance toward your drink, and Gaeul rolls her eyes. She laid out the recipe to success so simply and left you in charge of your future.

She offers Minju no quarter, merely walking toward the door she came through without a word. And she gets none in return, Minju quickly forgetting she was ever here to spoil your fun.

Minju repeats her earlier question. "So, party? Tomorrow? Are you talking about Sakura's?" The name is somewhat familiar. The truth is that you don't know for certain whose party it is, or why it was happening, just a time and a place, but as Minju confirms the details with you, they match up. Not that you have ever met this girl in question, it's just another friend of Wonyoung's.

"I didn't plan to go, but if you're my chaperone, then I could be convinced." Minju's got a glint in her eye and a flirtatious lilt in her tone—the kind a girl pulls out when they're trying to tempt you into doing exactly what you know you shouldn't. 

Gaeul told you just minutes ago to stop thinking with your cock and it’s easier said than done as Minju stares down at you with those eyes that look oh-so-pretty and the desire floods into you once again.

Still, there's some semblance of resistance in you. "It's not a good idea, for more reasons than I can even explain right now."

She stares at you in silence, smiling as she tries to understand, but her hands reach across and her slender fingers stretch over the top of yours. Fingers brushing over your knuckles and her thumb tucking under your palm.

"Don't ruin the fun," she replies. That spark. Flash. That temptation for more is so hard to resist. Gaeul’s words melt away.

"It's just that—"

"Think about the message it will send: I'll wear my sexiest dress and turn up arm-in-arm with you and Wonyoung will never know how close you were to being broken when you turned up here." It’s probably the worst message you could send, but it does sound exciting.

A momentary smile—lost to a sigh at the thought. "That's only going to stir up more trouble, Minju."

"All's fair in love and war. You ever heard of that? Your move.." She smiles at you—the sly, playful smile of someone who's in complete control, and is too willing to show it. Her hand tightens on yours and her eyes are unrelenting, and despite every sensible part of you warning yourself of her dangers, there's a spark that keeps growing inside that draws you back in.

"Are you really getting all proverbial with me right now?" You try to avoid giving her the answer she wants, but the girl is too smart to let you do that.

"Are you really avoiding giving me an answer? Well, it's too late now. We're going. You can come by and pick me up at seven?"

"Seven," you repeat. A resigned affirmation. "Here?"

"Not here, stupid. My apartment. I put my address in your phone notes."

"My phone?" You pat at your pockets, not feeling it anywhere.

"Here." She pulls it from her back pocket and throws you a gentle wink. "Don't forget about me now."

***

Luckily, it seems that news of your expulsion is still under wraps for now. Not only has no one from the class sent you a text about it, being their usual prying selves, but if the news had gone beyond the school and someone like Yujin's father had found out, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near his daughter.

Actually, everything today just feels so... normal. Even Yujin has avoided mentioning it while you have been out with her. 

You're still out now, sitting on one of those chairs outside the changing rooms. You know the ones—placed there for a very specific set of people. The ones for the disgruntled boyfriends who hate this sort of thing and all it entails. With their various bags by their side full of clothes, jewellery and shoes.

That's a lot of guys anyway, but you—

"What do you think?" Yujin calls out as she pulls back the curtain and steps out into the hallway. "It looks nice, right?"

—aren't in their ranks today. You appreciate this ritual for what it is. There is no exasperation. No annoyance. Nothing but the simple delight of watching a beautiful woman twirl in front of you before her reflection.

"Looks great, Yujin," you answer with an honest smile.

She gives you another twirl, arms out, her slim and toned legs shown by the dress's thigh-length cut, her arms bare and the rest of her dress is tight fitting across her flat stomach and rounding her breasts. She's playing gently with the strap on her shoulder, adjusting it against her skin. With another turn and twist, the backless nature of the dress catches your eye.

"You say that about every dress I try."

"Well, they're all gorgeous. It's hard for me to pick one."

Her laughter is sweet and musical, and it hits your heart with a dull thumping, like a heavy drum being struck inside your chest. "You're not as much help as I hoped. What do you really think?"

Yujin drops a hand to her hip, planting it there and posing with a soft pout on her lips. She has her hair held back into a ponytail. "Tell me, am I sexy?" She punctuates the question with a shake of her hips. "Pretty? Cute? Tell me, do I look good enough to eat?"

"Eat?"

Yujin does that thing she always does; where when she finishes laughing after teasing you and she bites her tongue and it pokes through her lips. She drags the curtain back across, obscuring your view again, and you're left with nothing but the plain white corridor. That and the sounds of her carefully undressing on the other side of the draped fabric. You can imagine how she undid the zipper. How it opens from her lower back. The sound the fabric will make as it slides over her naked curves—

Fuck. Stop. Don't fantasise now. Not here.

You rock your head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. The white tiles aren't exactly exciting, but they are preferable to imagining anything Yujin is or isn't currently wearing.

"Can you believe it?" Yujin calls from behind the curtain, wrangling your attention back. "Nine whole days. No warning at all."

"Did I miss something?"

"My dad. He's gone for nine whole days this time. Only one day after momma has gone to visit my aunt. The house is weird without them. It's just me and the staff. It's cold and quiet. You should come over more." It's all so nonchalant for her to ask that. No mention of what happened the last time you were in her house. How you—

Yujin pulls the curtain and steps out. A new dress. It's hard to look away and even harder to look her in the eyes. This is an elegant red one, an alluring warm hue. The dress is cut high up on the thigh, close enough to the line of the panties you're actively not thinking about. Tight on her waist and a neckline that follows the collarbone and frames her neck and shoulders in soft fabric.

"Well?"

"Yes." It's the only word that comes to mind. She's the most beautiful thing. Your favourite image. She is like a perfect portrait, hung there just for your view.

"Yes what?" she asks.

"Yes to this dress. This is the one."

She pulls a look. One you're not exactly sure how to read. "And about coming over?"

"Um..." The old you would have leapt at the chance. Fuck, the current you wants to too, but you still haven't addressed the elephant in the room.

"What's going on with you?" Yujin quizzes. She knows you haven't been your usual self the whole day. Everything weighing on your mind, including a future where you quite literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring. You can feel it—have felt it—holding you back.

"Look..." You run a hand through your hair. "The school thing has been playing on my mind." It's half the truth.

"Is that it? It's only school."

"Yujin. It's my life. I don't have money or assurances or—"

"You have me." Yujin steps forward, looking down at you in your seat, smiling. "Right?"

You look at her all confused. How do you reply to that? What does she even mean by that?

"I've got your back, okay? Always," Yujin assures, her smile so calming and comforting and yet, her words leave something to be desired. "Trust me."

Yujin raises a delicate hand toward your cheek, hovering millimetres from touching, just close enough for you to feel her heat and her draw. For an agonising second, all is silent as the air hangs tense. Then the touch. The smoothness of fingers that have never worked a day in their life against your skin.

"I already called the school. Told them Daddy would cut his funding if they didn't brush it under the rug." It's all so easy for her. How casually she flaunts her money and influence. But as the fingers trace the edge of your jaw, graze across your cheeks and come to rest their pad beneath your chin, tilting your head upward and casting your vision toward the young woman's bright smile, you can’t help but pin your hopes on her.

There's this moment you're stuck in, staring at her smile and wishing you could kiss it. Her fingertips threaten to draw you in but just as you let them, she slips them off you and pulls herself back. "But—" Yujin says with a wink, "you owe me."

She takes three steps back, slipping back into the cubby of a changing room across from you.

Yujin turns to the mirror, admiring the dress, her fingers running flat against her stomach. Her arms trail up along her side and around, stroking and smoothing down the fabric. Her shoulders shift, tugging on the fabric and perfecting the fit as she always does. "You're right. This is the one. You have good taste."

Yujin reaches her hands behind her back, fingers reaching her upper back and to the fabric of the dress. You watch, breathing steadily, as her fingertips begin to work the zipper, sliding it downward ever-so-slowly, exposing an inch of skin, then another, and another…

She tilts her head and gives her hair a subtle shake, exposing the nape of her slender neck. With a gentle roll of her shoulders, the dress falls loose, slipping from the sharpness of her shoulders, and gathering up on her elbow and waist. Her back is bare to you, and when you can drag your eyes to the mirror, a lot more too. That's when you catch her gaze, looking back in the mirror, watching the effect she has as the dress falls further, fully from her arms and waist to the floor.

Now only her underwear hugs her hips, the soft lace of her panties a little sheer, framing her perfectly round ass. Her eyes are fixated on your own, her face almost twisted, so sadistically joyous, revelling in the sight of your torture. Yujin says nothing—how could she say a word to ruin this tension? A laugh slips through her lips, and then she reaches behind her for the curtain. Drawing an end to the act as she conceals herself behind the fabric.

“Take this," she calls through the curtain and you're still trying to settle back into reality when out pops her hand, the dress draped over it. "You still have my card, right? You can go pay."

You take the dress, not knowing how to reply.

Yujin continues, "meet you by the door."

***

"Did you two just—?"

"She's in the changing room, Rei. At the store."

"Oh." Rei sounds out of breath and fatigued, her words come heavy, laced with pants. "Fuck it. You can help me. You're the only person who answered."

"What's wrong Rei?" You're talking with your eyes fixed across the room, waiting to see Yujin emerge.

"What's the best excuse to get out of a guy's apartment?" Rei is hushed a little now.

"Wait. Are you in there right now?"

"In the bathroom, he can't hear me right now, but yeah. I need an out. This guy was texting me about how well he was going to fuck me and he blew in like a minute." There is some disgust in her tone, a clear sense of disillusion. "Dude ended up just watching me get off. Prick."

Trying to keep it on topic, and trying to not imagine Rei masturbating, you say, "family emergency is always a good one. Hang up. Walk back into the bedroom. Then I'll call you pretending to be your uncle."

"A sexy uncle or a creepy uncle?"

"Your choice?"

"I'd say you're more of a sexy uncle."

You try not to indulge her. "Rei. Go."

"Right."

She hangs up. And you give it a minute, counting back from sixty. You call her, and when she answers, you turn up your volume, which grabs the attention of a few people in the store. "Rei! Rei! Where are you?"

"Uncle? What's wrong? Calm down!" She even sounds slightly convincing.

"Your aunt. There's been an accident. You need to hurry." You're quieter now, and the eyes around you go back to whatever they were doing.

"Yes uncle. Right away! I'm on my way now." Then you barely hear her ad she's speaking to the mystery man in the room with her. "Sorry, I have to go. It's my uncle. My auntie... she..."

Wow. She even sounds so genuinely upset. There's probably even a fake tear in there somewhere. There's some more muffled conversation you can't make out, likely Rei's dropped the phone while she dresses. You can imagine it, even if you couldn't make out what's going on in the background. She's feigning a panic, apologising to the guy, quickly pulling on her panties while he's laid there all confused. She's grabbing a shirt, jeans, a coat, and then rushing out the door. All the while maintaining her worry.

"Uncle?" she calls down the phone after some sounds of commotion. "I'm on my way now." There's the sound of a door slamming in the background.

"Rei? You good?" you ask.

"I'm out now. Thank you. Ugh. At least one guy didn't let me down today. Why is it so hard to just get a good fuck?" She lets out the words with a sigh, her tone is annoyed, and the sound in the background has changed. Her steps. The outdoors. The sound of cars.

"Take it as a compliment. Maybe you're just too hot for him."

She laughs a little, "yeah or my pussy is too good. Some people aren't prepared for what my pussy can do." She laughs again, louder this time and it brings a chuckle from yourself.

"Got to go now, Rei. Text me when you're home," you tell her.

"Wait! Before you go, what are you doing in say... an hour?"

"You what now?"

"Come on." She whines in that exaggerated way she can't quite contain. "If you're not busy then..." She trails off and silence follows.

You're not even sure what to think. Not sure what to say. "Rei..."

"Just kidding. Thanks again." She speaks in a hurry and hangs up the phone quickly too, before you can even say goodbye. You bring the phone in front of you, to make sure the call ended. It did.

You look up from the screen just as Yujin appears across the store.

***

Yujin leads you through the mall as you trail just behind her, one arm draped in bags full of clothes worth more than triple the car you drove her here in.

"Trust me. If it's not in a cone, then it's just not right," Yujin insists. You're not sure how you've come down to arguing about the semantics of eating ice cream, but here you are.

"But what if it's in a glass and it has a wafer with it? It's the same taste. The same substance," you contend, trying to reason.

"That's a sundae and sundaes are a whole different thing altogether. Everyone knows that."

"Okay, so what's wrong with that, but in a plastic cup?"

"You mean in a disposable container with not much thought, nor flavour nor creativity?" She stops in place, turning to you and saying, "Ice cream is an experience." She raises her hand to her head, grabbing at it and feigning frustration.

"So, glass okay, cone okay, plastic cup, not okay? Even if it's the same ice cream in all three?"

"Exactly." That's her reasoning, for leading you all the way to the other side of the mall, to the place that puts ice cream in a cone, and not in a little tub.

You hold your tongue for a minute and follow. Waiting for that perfect moment to throw your next question out there. You're slipping through the crowds of people, cutting around groups as they browse and peruse the items on display at the front of each store, and occasionally avoiding the people mindlessly walking on their phones.

Yujin is looking ahead and she doesn't see it coming. Two kids running right across her path. You quickly reach for her arm and pull her out of the way just in time to avoid them running headlong into her. 

"What are you—"

"Careful." You tilt your head towards the kids as they run across in front of you.

"Oh." Yujin flicks her gaze after them and turns it up at you, smiling. "My hero," she says whimsically, almost to the point you feel she's mocking you. Yujin lifts her arm under your grasp until she meets your hand with her own, and then interlocks her fingers into yours. She continues leading as if nothing at all has changed. You're following her again, past countless stores, your hand bound with her all along.

"So, Yujin, soft-serve or—"

"Don't even go there." Yujin laughs, turning to flash you a smile. She pulls on your hand to bring you to a stop. "Here we are."

"But, we didn't even discuss flavours..."

***

It's different, and not entirely comfortable. Usually, Yujin is buried in her phone, scrolling down her feed, flicking through stories or reading all those weird Instagram message requests she gets from her followers. Not this time. No, Yujin is sitting beside you in the passenger seat, her phone nowhere to be seen—enjoying life. Enjoying your company.

She still has her ice cream, in a cone just as she wanted, and she's sharing it with you as you drive. She reaches over between her licks to give you a taste.

It's not just that, it's how talkative she is—now more than ever. Never has she been so willing to discuss her family. She's just finished telling you all about her auntie and how her mother helped her set up a shop overseas, and how she’s visiting her right now. All this talk has led her to her father, who she talks about with much less fervour.

You will never forget the first time you met him; the imposing aura the man commands and his rigorous standards for everything. Her stories though? They seem more like myths.

"He ran a whole rival company into the ground. Pricing them out of deals, cutting shady deals himself. It was ruthless. But effective," Yujin says, pausing before she gives her ice cream another lick. "Hundreds of people lost their jobs; it was all on the news. I was young, so I didn't really understand. Mother tells me it changed him. He was away for a long time. I went years without really spending time with him."

"Yujin... I don't understand. He always seems so..."

"Nice?" Yujin completes the statement for you with a sarcastic laugh. "When he's home, he puts on the act. But when he's away, sometimes mother just wishes he would stay there." She's looking straight ahead now, focusing on the view out the front window as you dip off the highway.

"Can I ask about the scar, then?" It's a topic you're unsure about broaching, but it feels like the kind of chance that won't come again if you leave it.

"Scar? The one on his neck? He wouldn't even tell me or mother how he got it. Probably some ex-employee, or... an ex-lover." That's the one thing you knew about him. Yujin told you before about how he barely even hides his trysts from his wife and the damage it has caused.

"Sometimes I wish the entire company would just burn, and we would all be left with nothing. Have a normal life."

“A normal life isn’t any better, Yujin. Just a different shade of the same colour.”

There's a vulnerability to her now that always seemed so elusive. It's the softness of her tone and the almost timid smile that crosses her face when you look over. Then comes the quiet. The silence as she waits—waits for the world to answer all her unanswered questions. Waits for you to give the reassurance she needs, to know she's not alone.

With one hand still on the wheel, you reach the other over to her lap and find her hand.

"Don't." Yujin pushes back at first. But the harder she pushes, the tighter you squeeze and you let her know that you're going to be here. Her resistance crumbles and the fight subsides. And Yujin entwines her hand back with yours, locking her grip. "Thank you."

You turn the next corner and the molten orange afternoon sun burns ahead of you, threatening to fall below the horizon. Its warm rays burst with vivid colour.

"You never talk about your parents," Yujin asks with a soft curiosity.

"I don't know them. It's just my brother and me. Always has been. Always will be. He raised me," you explain so simply.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I sound so ungrateful now." This might be the first time you have ever heard Yujin utter that word—sorry. She holds a little tighter onto your hand, a returned reassuring squeeze to tell you she cares.

You keep hold of her as you turn into the gated grounds of her house, pull up into her long-cobbled driveway and pull the car over in front of the door.

"You should come in, stay with me until the party," she offers, refusing to let go of your hand.

"I have to go home, I have to wash and change and..." You trail off, omitting the fact you also have to go to Minju's place before the party. Her hold on your hand loosens as you speak but you hold a little tighter and tell her, "but, I'll see you soon."

The warmth of her touch departs your grip. Her face seems more understanding. "You will." She smiles and behind her, through the window, you spot her staff approaching to help with her bags. "Don't be late, okay?"

You give her a firm single nod as she steps out of the car.

***

You're about to buzz for the third time, but you pause to check your phone. You read the address over and over. You're at the right place. Maybe Minju made a typo? Maybe she did this on purpose just to waste your time? You press the buzzer a third and final time. It rings and rings until eventually the screen lights up.

Minju's face is pressed to the camera. "You're early."

"Actually, I'm right on time."

She turns away from the camera to check the clock on the wall. She leans a little to get a better look, bringing more of her into view. More accurately, bringing her bare shoulders into the camera shot. "Fuck," she says as she turns back to the camera. "Okay, look, just come up."

"But I have a taxi here waiting."

"So wave them away." The camera cuts off and the door buzzes open.

You roll your eyes and open the door, turning to the taxi driver and lazily waving a hand before you enter.

When you make it to Minju's apartment, a surprise awaits. You find the door unlocked—that's not the surprise. What's behind it is what is so unexpected. It looks like the aftermath of a localised apartment tornado.

There are shoes on the floor between strewn-out items of clothing as soon as you enter. There's a pair of her jeans right by the door and next to them a bra. You drag your eyes across the room and things don't get any better. You don't even want to know how that pair of tights ended up hung over her TV. Or why there's one of her bomber jackets hung from the fridge? And you especially don't want to question how the back of her sofa became her de facto underwear drawer—there are six or seven pairs laid out along it.

"Minju, it's me," you call out.

Minju pokes her head from her bathroom door. "Take a seat."

"And where in the world am I supposed to find one?" Even her dining chairs hold two folded stacks of work clothes.

Minju shrugs and scrunches her nose before ducking back into the bathroom. A moment of silence is followed by the blaring of a hair dryer. You navigate the floor like a minefield until you close in on the door she just slipped into. You check your watch, just twenty-five minutes until when you told the girls you would be there. Until when Yujin is expecting you—alone.

"Minju!" You call over the sounds of her drying her hair..

She speaks from within, her voice almost completely muffled. "What's wrong?" The sounds cut to quiet.

"Ten minutes until we need to—" Your voice is caught in your throat as Minju emerges from the bathroom. She's wearing nothing but the scent of her soap and the soft glisten of her damp skin. And, in true Minju style, she doesn't cover herself, she doesn't even shy away.

It’s all so… blasé.

"My eyes are up here." Her giggling is playful and sultry, luring you to her, and there is no place else for your gaze to drift. All you have to do is watch. Follow every drop and curve, every exquisite angle. The wet, raven hair hangs heavy down her back.

"You— we— clothes— where are your clothes?"

"Ummm..." Minju raises her hands in a form of shrug as she twists and scans around the room. "They're somewhere here. Probably." She keeps walking, across your path and into the kitchen. You watch her as she struts all the way to the far counter. She stands for a moment or two in a pose, her weight on one leg and the other propped on her tiptoe.

She finally turns back to you, half a bottle of wine in her hand and a half-cocked smile on her lips.

"Minju, I need to—"

"When was the last time you had a drink? Anything since yesterday afternoon?" she asks as she sweeps two glasses that don't even look clean from the countertop.

"No, nothing, but—"

"How about sex? Fucked anyone else since me?" she's asking so casually as she places the two glasses on the small part of her table that isn't covered in books, papers and boxes. She uncorks the wine bottle and begins to pour.

"What? No, but Minju... it's almost—" Your pointless protests are stilted by the young woman thrusting a glass of wine towards you, which you feel compelled to step closer and take. You stand across from her, glass in hand, staring at a face that's staring back.

"Me neither. Cheers," she says, tilting her glass toward you as an invitation. You clink them together and follow her lead, drinking the wine in one go. “That's the drink out of the way. Now how about a fuck?"

Minju places her glass onto the table and then she approaches, sauntering one foot in front of the other until her bare chest presses against yours.

"Time is ticking, I know." Her mouth is beside your ear, whispering into it and brushing the tip of her nose across your cheek. “But we can be quick."

She slides back a step, her hand taking hold of your collar, tugging you toward her as she takes another step. You pass by the table and you take the chance to place your glass alongside hers before she continues to draw you across the room.

You don't resist. Couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted. You step as she guides you. Follow as she leads until her hips rest against her kitchen counter. There you close the space, pressed together, looking into her dark eyes—tainted with want. There's something about Minju that makes everything simple. All the world, the noise, the games. All the expectations and pressures of normal life are foregone and stripped away, leaving only you, her, and basic instinct.

Your fingers cup her jaw, following the smoothness and warmth of her cheeks. It's a subtle action, a movement slow in motion yet so immediate in meaning. As you make your desires known, the sparkle that plays at the corners of her eyes draws your lips into hers.

You near a kiss until she turns away at the last moment, leaning herself forward and presenting her bare back to you. "What do you see?" she asks, looking back at you.

The soft curve of her spine paths her back all the way to the dimple at the base. You smooth the flat of your palm along her sides, touching gently across the silkiness of her warm, wet skin. Your lips come down, pressed to her shoulder and you brush the tip of your nose along her nape. And just like that, you're intoxicated by her. All sense and rationality abandoned. "You."

"Then fuck me." Her voice is sweetly coarse, a gentle whisper. You hear a faint noise escape, a gentle mewing of want.

And fuck you will. Your hands run over her, squeezing gently as you lower. All the while she presses and writhes herself against you, rubbing and stirring at your building lust, toying it further and further. Minju bends over more, backing herself against you until you're made to take a step back. She keeps her hands against the wood as she lowers her head further and slightly parts her legs. 

You're quick to unbuckle your belt, pop the button, unfasten the zipper and slip your boxers low enough to take out your dick. Hard, ready, wanting, and there's an invitation in front of you. Bare and inviting, warm and moist, enticing and so perfect.

Minju turns to flash her eyes over her shoulder, holding the very image of invitation. So, with only that little cue needed, you slide inside her. One short stroke followed by a deep, stretching push, all the way, your hips crashing to meet her. Slow, sensual motions in and out as you grip her waist.

"Faster. Like you mean it." There it is. The thing you love and hate about Minju—the expectation, the challenge, the attitude, the need for more.

A few deep breaths and you grip a little tighter. Brace your legs a little firmer and with a shift of weight forward you drive harder into her and her mewl of approval spurs you onward. You hit a rhythm that suits you both. Her back arches. She sways forward with each motion before bucking her hips back, pushing you as hard as you're pulling, matching your want with hers.

As you both find comfort in your actions, a rhythm that doesn't chase a high but pleases wholly, Minju looks over her shoulder again with a question on her lips. "Who's Yujin?"

A quick answer leaves you. "Not now," you respond, while you pull at her hips and pull a whine from her.

Minju's voice is barely a whisper. She repeats the name, questioning it a second time and asking, "You didn’t tell me yesterday. Who is she?"

"Can't you let it go?"

"You have your cock in me. Least you can do is answer my question." Minju is smiling when she says it, showing her teeth with a look that just dares you to not do as she says.

"Fine," you reply and then slide your hand up her body, reaching to cup one of her tits while you fuck her. "Yujin is a friend," you say, and you know how unsure you sound. "And she's a friend of Gaeul and Wonyoung too."

"So, really, have you fucked her too?" The question is as blunt as she can possibly make it and Minju emphasises it further with a deliberate shake of her ass into you, driving her hips back to make a point.

"Nope."

"But you want to." This time, a statement, not a question.

"Why do you think that?"

"As soon as I mentioned her name I could feel you twitch inside me. Fuck me a little bit harder. You wish I was her." Minju laughs, a hand moving behind her back, snaking around to grip her own ass.

"I didn't. I just— It was you, I—"

"I don't care. Think about her if you want. As long as you fuck me." Minju is demanding, the statement becomes her prerogative. She bites her lip and plays with herself. She knows exactly the way to tease and taunt. "That's why you're even doing this? Did Yujin not show enough affection? Too high and mighty to put out? Or does she just not like you?"

"It's complicated." You slow your movements to a series of leisurely strokes. It gives you a moment to collect your thoughts and choose your words. "We've had... moments... but I don't really understand her. But fuck she drives me insane. She's this mystery and sometimes a contradiction and you know what, Minju? Sometimes she infuriates me with her teasing." You remember just earlier today, her little show in the changing room and how it led to nothing more. You hold Minju a little firmer with a tight grasp on her waist and her breast. The anger pushes your hips against hers with a little more force.

"Ooohh... someone is frustrated. It's fucking hot when girls play coy, isn't it? Seeing her and the power she has over you. Dangling the prize and not giving it to you." Minju arches her back and looks at you, a curl in the corner of her lips as she asks, "would you rather be inside her?"

"I'm inside you," is all the answer that comes. It is a grunting, panting whisper. You thrust a little deeper and a moan fills the air.

"Fuck me harder then, use me. Fuck me like I'm Yujin. Like I'm the fucking tease that's finally giving you what you want."

There's something about the way she's taunting and coaxing you that awakens this raw, carnal lust. How does she read you this well? She's got your thoughts down to the very emotion in such a perfect moment, in a time of emotional fragility, and in a way that's strangely flattering, a kind of praise in and of itself. And Minju is saying everything that excites you most about the way you think about Yujin. All of the want and the unfulfilled frustration. All of it validated.

So you fuck her. Truly fuck her.

And you try and bury into her how much Yujin affects you. You push Minju's hips against the counter, slamming her against it and she sends a couple of pots flying in her wake. "Yes, you want her like this," she says in between pants as your thrusts speed to new heights. Minju bucks her hips into you to meet your motions, but even as she braces herself as best she can, she cannot quite catch up.

"Take her as you take me," she cries, letting out the mewing moans with a chorus of gasps, one for every time you grind your cock deep within her, you feel a squeeze, the gripping of her walls, the milking, beckoning tightness. "Break her, like she's never been fucked."

"Ahhh Minju..." You grind in deeper.

"Yujin. You're fucking Yujin!" Minju calls.

You are driven to your deepest. One final stroke as Minju clamps her thighs together.

She yells her words in an abrupt, lustful explosion. "What does Yujin like? Does she like this?" Minju teases, trying to sound seductive despite the audible lack of air in her chest and the torrents of orgasmic energy flooding through.

"Fuck," you grunt, clapping your hips against Minju's ass. Your mind is a cocktail of reality and imagination. A beautiful girl in front of you. The image of Yujin taking off her dress in your mind. That fucking tease, showing you and playing with you and taunting you. She's smiling—they're both smiling. Minju and Yujin. Looking back at you. Smiling, goading, taunting, playing.

"Harder! Fucking harder!" Minju squeals with excitement as she throws herself against the surface in front of her, sending more things flying out the way onto the floor. You have a hand in the centre of her back, pinning her down while you slam into her throbbing cunt. Again and again, the slaps and the wet smacks resound with every impact. "Let it out," she squeals.

Her words stir an inferno, building a flame inside and its warmth fans out, spreading and warming every part of you. Its fire melting and burning you in its powerful force. And then with one last plunge, you hold yourself, pressing as deep into her as possible, filling her up and sending yourself bursting and exploding through her.

The rushing wave. Flooding torrent. Thunderous release.

Everything let go.

In her, and held fast, still spasming, still releasing, spilling, and pouring everything. Everything spent, empty, drained. You try and catch the breath that evades your racing heart and heaving chest. Sweaty and slick. Warm and tender. The exhaustion settling in.

It's all so fucking cathartic. A long-suppressed and repressed fire finally unleashed and given its time to burn. Unhindered and unchained, and all under the watchful eye of your own personal confidant, coaxing out what's been buried, releasing its lock, freeing its bounds.

"Now tell me... how long have you wanted that?" Minju asks, and the satisfaction in her voice makes it clear that she already knows.

With your pulse pounding and breath racing, you're not ready to face her just yet. It takes another moment, holding her, pressed against her, feeling the closeness in a way that you could almost say is romantic. Minju wriggles under you and releases a laugh.

She shuffles and slides away from you, forcing your still sensitive, softening dick to slip from her. Now she is facing you and it's a sight worth appreciating, but at the same time, so, so dangerous. Her beauty is special, but your mind is a mess.

"So..." Minju pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it between her teeth for a second as she dips her head then she laughs. "Did you have any other fantasies with her?"

"Minju." It's the most exhausted warning you can muster as you sink to the floor, sitting back against a kitchen cupboard.

"If it's any consolation. She's missing out. You're a great fuck. Just what I needed."

"Right back at you," you say, leaning back your head, exhausted, to rest on the cold wood. You stare up at the white ceiling, in a strange reminisce. It isn’t exciting but it’s preferable to your thoughts.

"Hmmm, that's cute." Minju is still standing beside you, using a piece of kitchen towel to awkwardly clean herself up. She wipes the thick, slick mess away and asks, "And look. What we just did, it's not weird. I get it. We're two friends just helping each other out. No strings."

You nod slowly, taking her sentiment.

"Don't worry. Yujin will know nothing. Our little secret," Minju says, patting your head. You sit for a moment in silence, Minju still by your side, she's getting herself a bottle of water now from the pack next to her.

"Minju?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is your place such a fucking mess?"

***

A/N: future parts will pick up in a smut sense with the other characters, promise.

also, I have no idea what i'm doing anymore with this part, I feel like this part isn't very good, but trust me, big things are coming.

#minju smut #kim minju smut #izone smut #yujin fluff #gaeul #rei smut #m reader #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop smut #ive smut #ive fluff #folie a deux

[sweetestdesire]

THE SILENT TREATMENT

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes forgets about a date night.

Jack was smart, he actually liked to think it was one of his best strengths. In fact, he liked to take pride in his capacity to always come up with a quick solution to most of the things life threw at him, except maybe this. Y/N was pissed and for the first time in what felt like his entire life, his brain failed him on how to fix the issue at hand. Perhaps that was largely because he didn’t quite know why she was mad, but there was also the fact that she refused to be rational and discuss the problem, and that wasn’t his fault.

Expressing as much landed Jack on the couch for the night, and now not only was Y/N even more upset with him, but his back hurt, too. It had only added insult to injury that Luke found this ordeal thoroughly amusing, and Jack thought it was times like these that throwing out the leech of his brother was his best option. The guest room could be his right now if not for a certain irritating younger brother, and the bed would be much better for his back, too.

“Still getting the silent treatment, I see.” Luke grinned, a little too enthused for Jack’s liking at his predicament.

Jack glowered, taking a sip of his much too bitter coffee. Usually Y/N made it for him, but between the sharp look she sent him when he approached and her insistence to avoid him, he safely assumed coffee was out of the question to ask of her for now. And because he didn’t need Luke to have more leverage to laugh at him, he forced himself not to make a face as he swallowed the bitter drink in his mug.

“And I don’t see how it’s any of your business.” Jack grumbled, watching as Luke rummaged through the fridge.

“It’s not.” Luke hummed, pulling out ingredients that he most certainly had not paid for with his own wallet. “But it’s definitely entertaining to witness. If I were you, I’d already have figured out why I’m on the couch by now.”

“You’d have to actually date someone before you can be sent to the couch.” Jack raised an eyebrow, feeling the slightest bit of satisfaction as he watched Luke’s features twist into anger.

“Well, I know why you’re on the couch.” Luke interrupted, crossing his arms as he glared down at Jack. Now that? That caught Jack’s attention. Why did Luke know why she was mad at him? Why had she told Luke and not him? And why hasn’t Luke told him by now?

“You do?” Jack blinked, staring at his brother in bewilderment before scowling. “So then tell me, you dipshit.”

“That’s for you to figure out, and him to keep to himself.” Y/N interrupted, making both heads turn to her as she entered the kitchen.

And truthfully, as pathetic as it might be, Jack was slightly relieved she’d spoken to him after days for the first time, even if it wasn’t exactly the words he hoped to hear. Jack eyed her as she walked into the kitchen, watching as she pulled out two mugs and walked to the coffee machine and then he paused. Why did she need two mugs?

“Luke.” Y/N said a little too sweetly. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Almost like he knew, and Jack was sure he did because of the amused glance he spared, Luke nodded with an appreciative smile. “I would love one.” He grinned, and Jack glared daggers at him, tightening his grip on his own coffee mug.

“Okay.” Jack set down his drink, staring intensely at the back of her head as she pretended not to hear him. “What’s got you so mad? It’s been days, and it’s honestly not the answer to avoid the problem.”

“You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.” Y/N said coldly. “You should know what you’ve done wrong. I’m not spelling it out for you.”

“You should be quite the spelling expert by now, right, Jack?” Luke added, and there was enough mirth lacing his tone that it took Jack everything from splashing his coffee at his brother’s face.

At that, Y/N snickered and Jack turned to look at her with slight betrayal in his features, watching as she slid what he was sure was a delicious and not bitter mug of freshly brewed coffee to Luke. She wasn’t supposed to side with Luke, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to make him coffee in the mornings, yet here she was, doing everything in her power to remind Jack that she was still angry. It’s been days, and he was still as clueless today as he was the first day, still just as confused with what it was exactly he’d done to upset her this thoroughly.

And then, like the Gods have blessed him through a certain big mouth, he heard Luke’s loud voice, “You could certainly take a few notes on how not to forget about dates, you know.”

Oh, right. Jack was supposed to take Y/N for a date, the first date since his schedule’s effectively became a lot less flexible and a lot more difficult to squeeze in a moment with her outside of collapsing in bed beside her after a long day. Jack watched as she shot a sharp look at Luke, shutting him up with just one look as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Luke.” Y/N hissed, cutting him off and glaring at him as he shot her an apologetic look once he realized he’s accidentally spoken too much. But it was too late, Jack seemed to blink in realization, slowly rising to walk over to her across the kitchen.

“So that’s why you’re mad at me.” Jack mumbled. “I didn’t mean to forget our date, baby. I promise I’ll take you on one tonight.” He said, making her raise an eyebrow unimpressed.

“And?” Y/N pressed, making Jack’s eyebrows furrow.

“And I won’t forget again.” Jack nodded slowly, as if sure of himself and his ability to finally fix the situation.

Y/N, however, only scoffed, rolling her eyes before shoving past him, making him blink in surprise as she hissed, “You can stay on the couch in that case.”

“You’re supposed to say I’m sorry, dumbass.” Luke called from the side, and only because Jack didn’t want to sleep on the couch anymore, he grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her against his chest.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl.” Jack said, and it was gentle and sincere as he pressed a kiss against her forehead. And much to her dismay, Y/N couldn’t stay mad no matter how hard she tried because it was Jack, and he was difficult and in a world of his own, but he was her Jack, somehow lovable underneath all that irritating know-it-all attitude of his. “I won’t forget again.”

“You better not.” Y/N grumbled, letting him wrap his arms around her waist, reluctantly letting hers snake around his neck. “It won’t be the couch next time if you do, I’ll make you sleep outside.”

“Honestly, it’s what he deserves for taking my keys.” And after days of tolerating Luke’s amusement at his expense, Jack thought it was sufficiently satisfying watching his brother go silent after the harsh look she sent him over her shoulder, quickly leaving the kitchen with an excuse to leave mumbled under his breath.

“Can’t we send him outside instead?” Jack mumbled, burying his face into her neck.

Y/N only hummed, threading her fingers through his hair and pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. “If anything, I should send the both of you outside.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes angst #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x female reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes drabble #jack hughes thoughts #new jersey devils #jh86

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Back to december

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance

CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.

Word count: 1.8K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.

“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”

Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 

“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 

“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.

“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 

“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 

“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 

“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 

“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 

And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 

“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 

Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 

“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  

“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 

───✥───

Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 

“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 

Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 

“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.

“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 

Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 

“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 

She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 

“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 

“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 

“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 

Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 

“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.

───✥───

After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 

But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 

“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 

Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 

When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 

“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 

“Come sit, Moony” 

Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.

“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 

“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 

“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 

“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 

“Why?” 

“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 

“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 

“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 

“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder

“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 

“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 

Maybe Sirius was right. 

───✥───

The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 

But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 

The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 

“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 

“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself

Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .

“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 

You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 

“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 

“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 

Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 

“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.

"Can we try again, please?" He asked 

You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 

"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 

"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 

Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 

Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

#remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus fanfic #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #remus lupin x you #marauders #remus lupin x y/n

[somerandomdudelmao]

so I often think about the concept of good and evil, and how it’s so human. How it fits the majority’s mentality and morality. And I just think it fits so well with Ecliptica and the other aliens on their ship (forgive me I forgot what their alien name). Cause the thing is, they aren’t human. They’re aliens from another planet. For all we know they might have different organs and stuff too. Who’s to say their morals are the same as ours? I feel like Oscar kind of figured this out in his own weird way, kind of just a quick “uh oh” moment for him. But the concept of good and evil is a human construct. Not alien. It’s obvious and shows just beautifully in your comic. the lack of empathy towards other races, the toying with their prey and feeling just because they can? They don’t see that as a problem. They don’t see that as bad. They see that as another day on the ship, they see that as having a fun hunting trip. They see that as a regular boring day where they do what they usually do. They don’t think they’re the bad guys and it shows. They are creatures with a big ego, deciding they are a superior race, and they think that’s all a good thing. And god it’s so cool. in fact, I bet they have their own versions of good and bad, which is actually so cool because what is their society really like?? What are common things they do? How many planets have they devistated without a single care?

anyway your comic is literally so cool and uh. Sorry for the rant lol

Oh my gosh, I absolutely love this ask. Thank you mcnfjfj. I have a little separate plot planned about the Marmor culture and their idea of right and wrong, evil and good. A little episode about their home planet and society.

#marble sky ask #tapa if you see this #I don’t know if you interested in Marmor society #but would you be interested in seeing younger Sculptor? Since you hate him so much #ahaha sorry

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you told them "I don't feel loved by you anymore," bec. the relationship is slowly falling apart. 

Mark Lee

When Mark hears those words, he'll be quiet for a second. You looked disappointed. It's been WEEKS since you two went out and the communication through text and calls are decreasing. He couldn't blame you because both of you are busy with each other's careers. Slowly, he'll ask you what you want and for a second, you don't know either. You don't know how to react with Mark's question especially when you're expecting him to apologize to you or at least make an effort to make it up to you. 

Huang Renjun

"I don't feel loved by you anymore," you said to Renjun. You can see how slowly Renjun's smile dropped. It's was hard for you to say those words especially when you don't want to hurt Renjun, but it's just that your relationship with him are slowly becoming mundane that the sparks are not there anymore. Renjun will ask why would you think about that and then you proceed to tell him your reasons. You can see how devastated Renjun would be, for a minute he becomes quiet, he asks if you want space. You only nod, maybe space is what you two needed.

Lee Jeno

Jeno will ask you why would you feel that way and you couldn't answer him. You think that it's a you problem. Jeno has nothing but a perfect boyfriend to you, always caring and looking after you. Maybe you're just at that part in your life where you're burnout and that you feel lonely. So when you told that to your boyfriend, he was surprise. Was he enough for you? Did he do something wrong? Jeno started asking you questions, making you overwhelmed and leaving hurtful words to him that you didn't mean. 

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan will be surprised that you said that to him. He'll scoff and just be in total denial. He'll ask what's wrong with you and why are you acting suddenly like that. But you know that it's him who's not trying to make an effort in the relationship, you're tired of trying to adjust everything for him that's why his reaction was your breaking point. "Try asking yourself why I am like this," you told him, and before he could rebut, you walked away from him, tired from trying to understand him. 

Na Jaemin

"It's just...I don't feel loved by you anymore," you told Jaemin. Jaemin's smile will drop within a split second and tries to hold your hands but you quickly avoided his touch. That's when Jaemin realized that his swooning and words are not going to work. He then proceeds to give you his bright smile, trying to apologize to you and convincing you that he will make it up to you BUT you could only scoff, because why now? when you knew yourself that your relationship with him couldn't be saved anymore. 

Zhong Chenle

The first thing Chenle will do is to ask you since when? When did you felt that way and it took you all the courage to tell him that you've been hiding it for months. MONTHS. Chenle will be fucking appalled to hear that. He'll start questioning himself because why was he so oblivious about you. He'll started to feel guilty, and that he tries to ask you if there are things that he can do to make it up to you. But sadly, during those months, you've been wondering about your relationship with him, and think that it's time for you two to end it. 

Park Jisung

First, Jisung will be HURT when you said that him. (poor baby CRIES) and then, he'll proceed to panic because he realized that he fucked up. Especially when he knows that lately he's been confident with your relationship, but in reality, your relationship is slowly falling apart. He'll try to think rationally but your words still stings and he couldn't do anything about it, that's how you feel about him now. He'll apologize to you and would convince you for you two to try again because he doesn't want to lose you. :<

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct drabbles #nct mark #nct jeno #nct renjun #nct jaemin #nct haechan #nct chenle #nct jisung

[stxrslut]

NOW what if kook!gf is the one begging jayj for sex … maybe not practically on her knees but she showed shes very needy before jj could even get the chance to himself !! he would feel like he conquered the world icl

OH DEFINITELY! I feel like jj would think kook!jj is a bit of a prude in general. but at the beginning of your relationship he realises just how wrong he was.

I can imagine the first time you get on your knees for him. you’re both getting ready to leave the chateau, the others are already in the car.

there’s a problem, you’re horny, really fucking horny. jj had given it to you good this morning, and you’re already thirsty for more.

you cling to his arm as he tries to tie his shoes up, effectively disabling him from doing the task. “pleaseeee jayj?” you whine, yet again.

he just chuckles, all bemused because he’s never seen you like this, “no! babe I gave you like— like three good ones this morning, you’re fine.”

he assumes that’s the end of it, so he’s surprised when you stop him at the door, pushing at his chest before falling to your knees infront of him.

you don’t tend to beg often, but when you do, you do it good. and so you grovel at his feet, palming at his crotch while you look up at him with your best doe eyes, “please jayj! jus’ need one more ‘n then I’ll be good for all day. I promise.”

“mmh,” he looks down at you, smirking down at you. internally he’s freaking out, because he cannot believe his look. he’s got you, kook queen bee literally on your knees, for him, jj Maybank, notorious bad boy from the cut. “you really are tryin’ here…”

you can tell you’re getting to him, not only because of the now very prominent bulge in his trousers but because of the look on his face. he’s contemplating it.

you know exactly what you need to do to really push him over the edge, and so you lean forward to kiss on his bulge, mouthing and even letting out an exaggerated moan, just to get it to hit home.

he groans in frustration, before yanking you up and pushing you roughly towards his bedroom. “five minutes, kay? they’re waiting for us in the car. take too long ‘n they’re gonna know about all the shit you get on your knees for.”

#anon #kook!reader #jj maybank prompt #lily’s lil’ blurbs 🌷 #jj maybank concept #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank

[princessbrunette]

back on applying my problems into my daddy!john b fantasies means im currently thinking ab reader accidently cutting her hand while trying to open smth and genuinely just shaking her head as she trips over herself to find john b !!! all like i can't look i can't look i can't look fifhfjd and he's just so daddy calm n collected despite being worried - 🍓

u literally own daddy!johnb at this point n i love that for u.

✧˖°🪷🍥⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

but yes just appearing in the doorway after walking into it with your eyes screwed up, john b looking up from his maps all concerned and coming over.

“oh john b i can’t look!” you squeal, holding back tears as you drip blood on the floor.

“ohhhh boy, how’d you do it pup?” he stays calm, seeing as this is definitely not the first time you’d gotten yourself into a situation like this. he cups your injured hand in his big warm one and walks you to the bathroom to hold it under the tap.

“i tried t’open a can with a pair of scissors because i didn’t wanna mess up my nails.” you explain sadly, knowing it was the wrong choice. he presses his lips together, raising his brows in that know-it-all way as he holds you hand under the running water.

“cant say it was your brightest idea but, hey — we all mess up sometimes.” he keeps his comforting tone as he starts to dab at the cut with tissue, mopping it up. you wince, and he strokes your back with his free hand. “yeah i know.” he croons quietly.

after he’s got you all patched up, he’s cupping your cheeks running a thumb over each cheekbone. “so… what did we learn?” he raises his brows waiting for an answer.

“to let you open things for me if i can’t do it?” you offer, unsure if it was even the right answer. honestly between the upset from the injury and john b babying you, your brain had gotten a little foggy.

“atta girl.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the centre of your forehead.

✧˖°🪷🍥⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

#🍓 anon #john b prompt #puppy!reader