#okay listen i know this is kind of ridiculous but i had a lot of fun writing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astraystayyh · 8 months

Text

Invisible Thread- two.

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

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

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

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

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

word count: 17k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would you like to go camping?"

"With you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You should go with them."

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am."

"Are you, really?"

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

"You’re clearly not fine and I-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

The first time you felt loved, truly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, we’ll stay the night."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"37," he replies instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mm, the heartthrob of campus."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

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

Selfish.

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

Selfish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You are being distant.

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

And it's his fault.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing you like is silly."

"Not even that cheesy drama I watch?"

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

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

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

"Mm. I will too."

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

✹✹✹

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

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

Four months ago.

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

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

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

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

"Mm, and where is Caramelo now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I like your laugh too, Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

"And you like me."

"And I love you."

Present time

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

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

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

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

You should've known.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you meet my mom?"

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

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

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

"Nothing of importance. I promise you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe that would've stopped the anguish to come.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The phone rings again.

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

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

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

"Your mother died in a car accident."

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

Your mom. Gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened, baby?"

"Nothing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want you, please," you whispered, your lips grazing the shell of his ear, your hands roaming across his chest. Your tone was begging and Minho could feel the urgency in it, so he nodded, he could never say no to you. He watched as you guided him to the couch, as you straddled his lap. You kissed his neck and he tilted it back to give you more of an opening. His hands were on your thighs, cautious. Your lips on him felt heavenly but he couldn’t allow himself to get lost in the pleasure, he had to keep an eye on you.

You were urgent, with the way you sucked the tender skin above his collarbones, how you grinded your hips into his. As if you were on borrowed time and you had to make him reach his high as fast as possible.

"Tell me you’re mine," you muttered, between the kisses you imprinted onto his chest. He could see the lipstick stains you left behind as if you needed to mark him up for everyone to see.

"I'm yours," he says, his hand smoothing the top of your hair. He could sense that something was wrong now, because your eyes were glazed over, and your kisses were getting sloppy, as if your mind was somewhere else. So, he grabs your hips to pause you. "I'm yours, angel. You hear me?"

"Tell me you won’t leave, tell me you’re staying," you take his hands away from your sides, clasping them in a tight hold. You capture his lips in a desperate kiss, and Minho can feel the tears streaming down your face. "Tell me you’ll stay, please, I can’t- can’t lose you too."

"Hey, hey, love. It’s okay, calm down," Minho easily frees his hand from your grasp, bringing you closer to his chest. It’s all it takes for you to start sobbing. "Who said anything about losing me? I’m still here, I won’t ever leave you," he shushes, his voice sounding like honey to your ears. It manages to muffle the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

"I'm so so tired Minho, so tired," you sob, burying your head in his chest. You felt as if there was pain igniting the end of each of your nerves. You couldn't run away from it because the pain became you. "I try to be strong, but I can't. It hurts to wake up and- and to try to go on as if nothing happened. The thoughts in my head don't ever stop and I can't- I can't do this anymore. Please make it stop. Make it stop hurting," you press your palm onto your chest, a useless attempt to soothe the burn within.

Why did it feel as if in your attempts to put out the fire raging within you, you only ended up fueling it even more?

"I would- I would if I could but I can't do that, I wish I could-" his tone is desperate, raw pain dripping from it.

"What if I'm not strong enough to do it myself?" you cut him off, finally asking the question that's been haunting you. "What if I can't fill this hole within me and it keeps on growing until it swallows me whole?"

Minho tightens his hold on you, rocking you gently in place, trying to lull your heart to sleep, so it'd stop hurting, even for a moment, even for a second. You know it's selfish to expect him to have all the answers, but he's all you have. He's the only voice you can bear listening to.

"I can't promise you that you'll ever fill the void left by her absence. It will keep on bleeding and throbbing, begging for a temporary patch-up. But one day it'll stop, it can't bleed forever. And around that hole flowers will bloom, like a sanctuary, watered by your overflowing love. Because it is your love that's hurting you, not your anger. Do not kill your heart to stop feeling, please. It will do that on its own, it won't hurt more than it can bear."

"It will take time. And if you run out of your time, I'll give you mine too. You aren't alone in this, we are a binary star, right?" he smiles softly and you nod slightly against his chest. "I read that to the invisible eye, they look like a singular star. I hope that to the universe we'd look like one person too, so they'd pass some of your pain to me."

✹✹✹

It’s been a few months since your mother died. You didn’t like the term passing away, because it entails that it was gentle, in passing, as if you were expecting it. But her death was sudden and it made your entire world flip upside down.

"Would you like to talk to her?" Minho suggested one night, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly.

"Will you come with me?" you ask quietly.

"Of course. If you want me to, that is."

"I can try."

Minho drove you to the graveyard the following weekend. It felt weird to see her name etched on the grave, a reminder that this was all real and not a figment of your imagination.

"I'm not a daughter anymore." You speak after a while, tone coated in sadness, and acceptance. "But I think I’ve never truly been one, since you were never a mother to me."

"Is it weird, that I miss you? I don't even know what I miss exactly since you were never there. But I miss you. I miss having a mother. And I'm sorry, that you were so angry at the world you couldn't find it in you to love me." You pause, blindly reaching out to hold Minho's hand. He grabs it instantly. "But I won't carry your anger anymore. I don't want to be mad at you, for leaving so suddenly. I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy. And I hope that you are too, wherever you are now."

You turn around, a small smile gracing your lips, and Minho wastes no time in wrapping you in his arms, your cheek resting against his shoulder. He's proud of you, the emotion shines clear as day in his eyes.

"I wanna take you somewhere," he tells you and you nod, wrapping your arm securely around his waist.

The drive is short and you recognize the place fairly easily. It's the hill you told him about a long time ago, the one that held your happiest memory with your mother.

You both sit on the bench, your head finding solace on his shoulder. The view unfolding in front of you is still as breathtaking, and with each passing moment, the tightness in your chest seems to ease. Memories of your mother and this serene spot intertwine like delicate vines, bringing you a bittersweet sense of comfort. Because mourning someone isn't straightforward, not when humans are this complex, never strictly good or bad.

"Cold?" Minho asks and you shake your head no. "You're a human heater."

"Only near you," he smirks and you giggle slightly.

"I remember your hands used to be so cold."

"So, I could find an excuse to hold yours."

"Are you flirting with me?" you chuckle and he nods, a proud smile on his face. "Is it working?"

"I haven't run away yet, so I suppose it is." There is a newfound lightness in your voice, one you’ve been achingly missing for the past months.

"Come here," he taps his lap with his hands and you promptly lay your head on it.

"Look at the sky," he instructs and you do as he says, squinting your eyes. "What am I supposed to see?" you giggle, but then you feel it, the faintest snowflake falling on your nose tip.

"Go away, I don't want to watch the first snow with you," you tilt your head towards Minho, who's watching you, a soft smile on his face.

You giggle at the distant memory, when you both left Limbo, two years ago. The first time Minho rewrote your memories.

"As if I could ever love you, that'd just be signing a death warrant," you repeat your words from that night, a knowing smile on your face.

"How's that death warrant going?"

"Horrible, so so horrible," you say as you intertwine his hand with yours, squeezing it lightly.

"Mm. I suppose we can't be the exception to the superstition."

"How unfortunate," you smile as he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, before looking back at the sky again.

He looks perfect from your view. You can clearly see the mole on his nose, the pucker of his rosy lips, and his long eyelashes framing his eyes. You are overcome by a feeling of love for the man beside you, and you stand up from your place to pull him in for a deep kiss.

"What was that for?" he smiles once you lean away, his fingers gently grazing your lips.

"Thank you, for today and for every day since I've met you."

"Of course, my love. You took a big step today, what color are you feeling right now?"

"Whatever color loving you is."

✹✹✹

Hills covered in verdant hues, rows of flowers bursting with vibrant colors, stretching before your eyes. The birds are chirping somewhere near, intermingling with the faint melody of the wind brushing against your skin.

"Here," Minho comes from behind, placing his knit jacket on top of your shoulders. Its warmth seeps through you, and you lean your back against his chest, melting into his embrace. His arms encircle your chest, resting comfortably on top of your heart as if guarding it from harm.

You feel your breathing slow down as you both look out the window. You are somewhere far from the city and its buzzing lights, a small white cottage surrounded by nature, where only you and Minho exist.

Minho nuzzles his chin on your shoulder, placing a chaste kiss under your ear. A light giggle escapes your mouth, as goosebumps rise upon your skin. Your body still reacts as sweetly to Minho, proofs of his love imprinted all over you. His touch is familiar to you but still as soothing, never losing its effect on you. You believe it never will, even when you're both withering down; his touch will still be the only thing making you bloom.

"This is nice," he whispers, sighing softly and you nod against him, raising your hand to settle on top of his. His fingers instinctively find your wedding ring, playing with it as they've done for the past two years.

"It's always nice with you," you say and he smiles softly, squeezing your hand lightly. You remember how it felt when he held it for the first time. How he hasn't let go since. It was only ever his to hold.

"We did well, don't you think? For our first time being alive."

His words make a gentle warmth stir within you. It is your first life, and you're lucky enough to spend it with him.

"We did," you turn around, to find him already looking down at your figure, a fond smile on his face. "To think we probably wouldn't be together if it wasn't for our law classes."

"No," he shakes his head, hands gently cupping your cheeks. "I would've found you. On a random evening when you'd stumble onto Limbo. In the supermarket where you'd buy your cherry shampoo. In the park you used to play in as a kid. I would've found you."

You've once read that when humans are about to pass away, a film of their happiest memories plays in front of their eyes. You know that many years down the road when you're on the brink of going away, you'll remember this moment clearly in your head. You'll remember the cicadas chirping far away, and the zesty smell of the lemon muffins you made earlier today. You'll remember the cold breeze ruffling your hair, and Minho’s warm hands on you. And you'll sigh contently, from having lived a life filled with love.

"My soul is dipped in yours. It will always find you too."

1K notes · View notes

minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel.

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate.

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity.

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,” some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples.

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan.

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day.

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles.

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv.

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.”

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.”

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping.

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins.

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho.

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send.

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate.

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats.

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything.

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out.

Your phone buzzes.

Trying to find my shirt

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?”

“My tiger tank.”

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones.

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?”

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.”

“Thanks.”

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this?

You grab your phone.

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response.

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting.

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.”

Thanks

“Chan!”

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed.

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?”

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply.

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?”

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time.

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out?

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone.

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.”

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow.

He does. “Wait, what?”

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you.

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?”

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up.

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?”

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly.

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’”

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you?

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.”

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll.

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words.

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle.

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles.

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug.

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go.

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?”

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.”

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?”

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?”

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…”

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh.

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.”

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips.

“You good?”

Funnily enough, somehow, you are.

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you.

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently.

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.”

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling.

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?”

“If you - what?”

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.”

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to.

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again.

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.”

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach.

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest.

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.”

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction.

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?”

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!”

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth.

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses.

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again?

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine?

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting.

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses.

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop.

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun.

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.”

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?”

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame.

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly. He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker.

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want.

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.”

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.”

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused.

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild.

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him.

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern.

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.”

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down.

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.”

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock.

“Do that again, baby.”

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for.

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.”

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?”

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats.

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.”

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.”

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over.

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue.

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal.

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?”

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more?

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…”

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you.

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask.

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment.

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place.

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!”

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening -

“Fuuuuck!”

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth.

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling.

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times.

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.”

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!”

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over.

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.”

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.”

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later.

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #fic: coadm #bang chan fanfic

3K notes · View notes

ikeuverse · 7 months

Text

PARTY IN THE U.S.A — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, humor WC: 2.5k+

WARNINGS: just a few curses and (a lot of) kissing

NOTES: the vote for the next story had our dear jake as the winner, so here it is! i wrote this one a while ago at the time of the live he said he listens to this song when he's sad, so i thought about it and just came up with this. i hope you like it!

masterlist

"Are you really not going to watch my game today?" Jake's melancholy voice almost made your heart break even more.

It was more than obvious that you wanted to go, not least because you had never missed a single one of his games for the university team. But that same university was tearing your sanity apart by holding an exam in the middle of the afternoon, where more than half the students would be watching the soccer team play.

Jake was the top scorer. Famous for his relentless passing, his perfect goals – not to mention his breathtaking looks. You, as his best friend, couldn't deny the slight crush you felt. It was ridiculous to say that kind of thing when you knew that half the campus fell in love with him.

But on that particular day, it wasn't as if you weren't going because you wanted to. Your teacher would kill you – and your whole class – if you missed that test. It was important. So was Jake's game. Ever since you became friends at the beginning of high school and he joined every sport possible, you went to watch him play. It was a tradition for both of you, even if it was raining. That's why you accumulated raincoats of all colors in your closet and even one or two different umbrellas; one of them even too big for your liking to hold your friends when they went with you.

You did everything for Jake and he recognized that, so much so that he felt selfish when he sulked all day just because you weren't going today. He wouldn't meet your eyes once you got on the pitch.

He couldn't hear you shouting his name after a goal or even running up to the stands and hugging your friends. A mere excuse he had since you were always with all of them, so Jake could hug you too.

A long sigh left your lips as you left the university hall. The pencil and pen pressed against your fingers as you walked through the corridors with the thought that you had done well. The content was extensive, and the whole thing was giving you a headache, but studying every night had been worth it after all. Because even when you felt tired, even when you'd exhausted yourself studying at night, Jake would show up to keep you company.

Shit, Jake. You quickly checked your cell phone for a message from him, because by that time the game was surely over.

To your surprise, he hadn't sent anything, but your cell phone had hundreds of messages from Jungwon and Heeseung. Your heart sank at this.

Dialing the number of one of the boys, you were grateful when Jungwon answered on the second ring.

"Y/n?" he didn't even wait for you to say anything, just seeing your name flashing on the screen of his cell phone.

"Jungwon, hey. Is everything okay?" you knew it wasn't. And Jungwon knew that you were smart enough to know that since he had called your cell phone at least six times. Heeseung called four more.

"Well, no..." there was a slight pause on the other end of the line, his footsteps instinctively tightening as he walked across campus "Can you come to our apartment?"

He didn't even have to ask you once more to get you to agree and say you'd be there as soon as possible. It was a relief that the boys' apartment wasn't so far from the college, even if running hadn't been a good idea, but the desperation of Jungwon's call made your heart squeeze and think of a thousand different scenarios.

Had Jake been hurt during the game? What had happened to make things go wrong like that? The thought of Jake being hurt made your whole body ache, and he blamed himself for not being there and for not providing enough assistance.

It was the only game you hadn't been to in all these years of friendship, so this feeling was rather new. Add to that the fact that you'd had a crush on him for a while, wanting to see him play or do something alongside him, but that was something that wouldn't even come out of your mouth.

Standing in front of the apartment complex, it didn't take long for you to enter and go straight to the elevator that gave access to the boys' floor. But especially today, the journey seemed much longer and more time-consuming, and you'd been doing it for so long that you couldn't even count, but it was torturing you so much.

"Y/n" Jungwon called out as soon as the door opened, without letting you realize that you had already reached their floor, stopped at the door and even rang the bell.

"Hi" you hugged him briefly, entering the apartment and being greeted by Heeseung with a quick hug as well "So?"

"Look…" Jungwon sighed as he closed the door. The three of you walked to the center of the room as he took the initiative in the conversation "You know, we lost the game today…"

He didn't want you to feel guilty at all. Jungwon understood about your commitments, even Sunghoon was with you – because he was from your class – taking that damn exam. You both lost today's game.

"What? Wait… Did you really lose?" your eyes widened.

"It was just a friendly, anyway" Heeseung flopped down on the sofa, picking up a cushion to rest his head on "The problem is that Jake is devastated."

Yes, he hated losing a game. You knew that.

"But I don't think it has anything to do with our defeat today" Jungwon nibbled the inside of his cheek, staring directly at you. Your eyes wandered between him and Heeseung, a frown on the face of the older man sitting on the sofa.

"He's been listening to Party in the U.S.A since we arrived, y/n. You need to do something because I can't take it anymore," he exploded.

You laughed softly, seeing Jungwon give you a disapproving look straight away. Perhaps they had rehearsed a better way to tell you something, but Heeseung's impatience made him practically beg for your help.

"And how am I going to do that? Maybe going there will be worse because I didn't go to see today's game…"

"On the contrary" Jungwon quickly interrupted, "You're the only person who can make him turn that thing off."

"Why?"

A moment of silence and Heeseung dropped the cushion, getting up from the sofa.

"It's so obvious, y/n" he rolled his eyes, but there was a playful smile on his lips as he took hold of your shoulders and led you down the corridor of the apartment. The corridor gave access to the three bedrooms as well as the bathroom.

Jake's room was the last in the corridor and, as soon as you and Heeseung got close to the door, you understood why the other two boys were so frustrated. The music was extremely loud even with the door closed – and possibly locked – while you could hear nothing but Miley Cyrus' voice.

You turned to Heeseung, noticing now that Jungwon was also behind him. Both of them looked at you with such anticipation as you stared back at them.

"How am I supposed to compete with that? When he hears that song…" you whimpered, Jungwon taking the lead to hold you by the shoulders this time.

"We trust you and the power you have over that crybaby" he winked at her, laughing and making her laugh too "Now make him turn it off or I'm breaking that little speaker today."

Both you and Heeseung knew that would never happen. It would be easier for the older one to break the speaker or for you to hide it in your apartment than for little Jungwon to do anything that would make Jake sad or even angrier.

So, turning towards his bedroom door again, you dared to give it a few knocks.

No answer.

A few more knocks and Jungwon's hands came off your shoulders. You heard footsteps moving away, looking back while the two boys were still there. As if to encourage you.

When you knocked once more, the music seemed to get even louder. As if Jake didn't want to be interrupted from his moment. You snorted at this and turned the handle on an impulse, praying that it was open or you'd punch that door until it opened.

And to your surprise it was. Jake didn't usually lock his door because he knew his friends wouldn't come into his room unless he gave permission when he was in those melancholy moments. He hadn't realized that you had opened the door until the bang of closing it made him jump out of bed.

Looking at you with an astonished face, Jake got up from the bed and practically ran towards you. His eyes were glued to yours, bright and fixed on your eyes. He didn't look like he'd cried, but he was about to if you hadn't shown up for a few more minutes.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" he asked, you were only able to understand because of the proximity. Your shoulders shrugged and your hands went straight to your ears, indicating that you couldn't hear properly because the music was still too loud "Fuck, I'm sorry" Jake ran over to the speaker to turn it down to a considerable volume. He didn't want to stop listening to you because he still felt bad, but he would leave the music in a more comfortable setting so that he could hear your voice more clearly.

"What did you ask me?" you said after he came closer, big eyes staring at you and lips parted.

He didn't need to know that you had heard him perfectly, you just needed an excuse for him to say something and then think about how to continue the conversation.

"What are you doing here?" he asked again.

Jake seemed restless in his seat, his hands hovering at his sides and sometimes going to the hem of the sweatshirt he was wearing to play with something between his fingers.

"The boys couldn't stand the music" you smiled, but he didn't reciprocate because he had looked away from you "And I wanted to know how you were after the game."

"We lost" he said dryly, staring at you for a brief moment "Happy now?"

Jake walked away from you, his hands running through his hair as he let out a long sigh. He had his eyes closed, but you couldn't see because he preferred to keep his back to you.

"Why would I be happy about this, Jake?" you didn't want to feel upset by his tone, knowing that it was a big part of the frustration he felt. Jake sighed again, turning towards you.

"Because in all these years of friendship, you've never lost a game I've played" he was angry, you could see the way his brow furrowed as he spoke. His forehead wrinkled and his lips reddened because he had brushed his teeth a few times before speaking.

"I had a test today, it's not like I'm going to lose your game because I just wanted to," you said in the same tone, trying to get it into his head once and for all.

Jake knew he was being selfish, he knew it, and he would never interfere with your future either, because university was important to both of you. But the frustration over his newly discovered feelings for you, Heeseung, and Jungwon's teasing and the loss of today's game only intensified and he knew he would explode at some point.

Listening to Party In the U.S.A would be the only thing that would de-stress him from that whole incredibly shitty day.

"Anyway, Heeseung said it was friendly, it wasn't even a big deal" you shrugged and didn't know why you'd said it. But you knew it hadn't been a good idea when Jake got angry again. His eyes darkened and he was about to scream from the looks of it.

"So my game was no good, y/n? Is that what you mean?" he asked, you opened your mouth to say something, but Jake was quicker "You know what? Fuck, it really wasn't a big deal whether you went or not" he turned the music back up to the same volume as before, if not even louder.

The looping of Miley's voice had never entered your mind so much at that moment and you knew you wouldn't be hearing that song for weeks to come.

Talking to Jake hadn't gone as well as you'd hoped because not only was he upset, but you were upset too. It wasn't possible that your best friend was acting like this just because you hadn't gone to the game.

But then Heeseung's words echoed in your mind. It's so obvious. You didn't like to play the fool for that kind of thing, especially when it seemed to be completely reciprocated. Losing Jake's feelings for you wasn't in your plans, even more so after you came to accept that you felt it too, even if he didn't know it.

So your body acted better than your mind and, before you knew it, your hands were resting on the back of his swivel chair. With a little effort to make it spin along with Jake's body, you managed to catch his startled gaze as he started to face you.

"Y/n, you—"

"No time for bullshit, you little shit" you cursed angrily, but your actions said completely the opposite when your fingers gently held Jake's face just to keep him in place.

You pressed your lips to his and a long sigh came out of Jake's mouth at the sudden contact. He remained static for a few seconds, processing whether this was really happening or whether he was imagining it too much. But no, he wasn't dreaming and he realized it when the tip of your tongue pressed against his lips to ask for passage.

Jake gave in willingly, he wasn't going to turn down something he dreamed about practically every night even though he thought it was wrong to fantasize about his best friend.

In one swift movement, his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. The kiss took on even more rhythm and desire as the two of you attacked each other's lips. Your hands tangled in Jake's hair and pulled slowly as he pressed you against his body.

Gasping breaths, foreheads pressed together and the tip of his nose lightly brushing against yours.

"Jake" you called after a period of silence, him murmuring softly as he caressed your waist over the T-shirt you were wearing.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Don't listen to that song anymore, please?" he laughed at your question, opening his eyes to find yours still closed.

You were so beautiful, but you looked even more stunning with your lips red and moist with his saliva mixed with yours from the kiss you shared with him, sitting on his lap. Jake couldn't help letting out a sigh, closing his eyes, and brushing his lips against yours again.

"Only if you kiss me more often like you did today," he whispered, causing a shiver to run through his entire body "I bet that'll calm me down more than any song I could ever listen to."

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #jake fluff #enhypen jake #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun fluff #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #jake fanfics #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen imagines

680 notes · View notes

hecateslore · 23 days

Text

💌

supervisor!Simon

You and Simon sit in his office, anxious through the roof waiting for your guy’s manager to come in. You could hear the shuffling noises coming from under Simon's desk from his knee bouncing. “This is so fucking stupid.” Simon mumbled. You were fighting back tears from anxiety, the thought of losing your job, having nowhere to go if you do. You let out a very big sigh, trying to ease your nerves.

Your Manager Garrett (had to look up random names lmfaooo) walks in, Smiling politely at both of you, “Simon,” He says, giving him a handshake, “hi,” He looks over to you, reaching a hand out, you both introduce yourselves. “I have lovely news this morning,” He chuckles, pulling his laptop out from his bag. Your stomach starts to turn watching him type his password in. You look at Simon and he’s looking at his manager, his hand covering his mouth.

“One second,” Garrett clears his throat while he types away. After what feels like hours he finishes, you shift in your seat not knowing if it's the morning sickness or if it's unknowing of how this “meeting” will go. “Okay,” He breathes, “So the lovely news!” He looks between you two, “An anonymous complaint came in,” He clears his throat again, the action making you want to flip over a desk. “To paraphrase, you two are in a relationship and have been for months and now you’re pregnant.” He looks over to you, “I find it hard to believe personally,” He moves his gaze to Simon and Simon nods in agreement. “But I have to address these things before it’s in Hr’s hands, fair?”

Simon nods again and makes eye contact with you, “So anything? Anyone?” Garrett puts his hands up, “Well she’s pregnant,” Simon says. You look at him with wide eyes hoping Garrett wouldn’t see. Places his hand on the table making a small calm down gesture while Garrett looks back at his screen. You and Simon make eye contact, you take a deep breath calming yourself for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. “Congratulations.” He says quickly, you say a small thank you, “We talked about it a few weeks ago, just about absences and other things.”

“Other things,like?” He urges, “Maternity leave, telecommuting,her schedule going forward .” He lies with ease. You felt sick, having to play pretend while you carry his child, acting as if you two never knew each other in that way. . Garrett nods, “She also did quit before,” He adds.“It’s ridiculous,” Simon shrugs,” I hear you,” Garrett chuckles,“You know what protocol is, and I don’t want to lose my job.” He jokes, Simon lets out a small laugh, making small conversation to make up for the lack of yours.

After signing some paperwork, you went back to your desk, that icky feeling still in your chest. You look over your shoulder and see Simon sitting at the back of the office. You pull your phone out thinking about texting him, you then set it back down.

You wanted to believe it was Linda who snitched you off but that wouldn’t match because no one other than You, Simon and Johnny know. You were getting bigger, the bump a lot more noticeable if you wore fitted blouses. You started typing on your computer, still bothered, but it felt different like there was dread now mixed in.

Johnny walked around, maybe on his lunch break, while you sat there listening to your music. Catching yourself staring at him you turn the volume up, and try your best to do your work. The thoughts from weeks ago came up, what if you do lose your job. Having to play a stranger wasn’t helping either, You know Johnny’s clinging onto your confession and to his hatred for simon.

But was it really hatred? The more you think you notice his pattern of obsession, like there was some kind of “get back” he’s hinting at. Maybe there wasn’t one, maybe you are too in your mind about the situation. Sometimes Simon would get handsy, rubbing your shoulders, lunch, leaving at the same time, joking around, going to his office every other day for no reason at all. The signs were definitely there.

The next few days are quiet, you spend some of them alone in your apartment while Simon does his “sorting out”. The more you spend, you like it. You also get a break from him you’re together almost everyday, sometimes you go home together. And as glorious as it sounds to work with someone you’re growing to love, it’s overwhelming and you're starting to have a weird taste in your mouth about it.

“Hi there.” Johnny smiles as he walks up to your desk. “You’re glowing.” He compliments you, “Thanks.” You mumble crossing out names on the printed spreadsheet. “How many times have you heard that one?” He chuckles, “One too many.” You answer. “You do look beautiful though.” He says sincerely. “Didn’t look beautiful before?” You joke, some truth behind it. That would’ve been something nice to hear when you went on the “date” with him, but like he said before it was just dinner.. And It was just good.

Johnny’s quiet, “I was joking, Johnny.” You clarify. He awkwardly laughs and scratches his scruff, “So how far are you?” he asks, leaning over your desk, “Three months,” You nod, “woah.”

“Woah indeed.” You chuckle, grabbing the bright yellow folder on your desk. “So maternity leave, that’s happening?” he cocks a brow. “Telecommuting and then I'm off.” You confirm, “It’s gonna be sad to see you gone.” He smiles, “I bet.” You say sarcastically. If it was anyone else, it would be genuine, but it’s coming from Johnny’s mouth. “I have to get back to this.” You lift the folder, and he nods and goes back on his way.

You weren’t busy, you actually were dragging your work out. Trying to avoid conversation from those around you. Trying to avoid Simon, trying to avoid Linda, Victor, yourself, your thoughts. Trying to avoid it all, not wanting to hear anything, not wanting to be anywhere.

Thursday you come in with a massive headache, still adjusting to the growing human and its father (exactly, exactly..).

“Look at that bump.” Linda gushes, “That’s a big baby,” She places her hand on your stomach. You take it off swiftly, “Thanks,” You dismiss her and her hands. “Have you seen Simon?” You ask, hands filled with paperwork from the doctor for your new schedule. “He’s in the break room.” She smiles oblivious. You nod and walk over to the lounge room, noticing Simon and Johnny. Johnny who buzzes past you, avoiding eye contact. You look at Simon who’s very pissed, his nostrils flared a bit and his brows furrowed deeply. “I have paperwork.” You raise the stack, he nods walking past you to his office.

When you get settled you both go over the paperwork, “what’s wrong?” You ask, looking him over, He’s slouching in his seat while typing away, a disgusted look on his face. “‘M fine.” He mutters. “Give me the paper,” He sighs, reaching out with an open hand. “Is it Johnny?” You press, “It’s nothing.” He flips through the paperwork. “It doesn’t look like nothing.” You cross your arms adjusting in your seat.

“I’m not arguing.” He mumbles into his hand, “I’m not trying to argue, I’m asking what’s wrong.” you correct him, his attitude rubbing off on you. “Is that what It sounds like? I’m arguing?” You press the matter even further. “I didn’t say that you were,” Simon sighs again, “I said I’m not arguing.”

“So what does that mean?” You say annoyed, confused. “It means whatever you want it to mean.” He shrugs. You blow a raspberry, “Simon I’m really not in the mood to play detective.” You blink, “what do you want me to say?” Simon finally looks up from his screen, “I don’t know tell me how you feel?”

“I’m annoyed.” Simon smiled sarcastically and it made you roll your eyes. Simon kissed his teeth, “I told you how I feel now you don’t like it.” Simon looks back down at the screen, You both sit there in silence for a bit, giving him bits and pieces of information you forgot to put on paper.

“We’re done.” Simon announces, snapping you out of your daydream. “You can have this back.” He hands you the paperwork, “You look pretty.” He states, You give him a sarcastic smile. He gets up from his chair, stretching and takes a couple steps towards you, wrapping his large arms around your shoulders. You inhale his cologne, and close your eyes for a little bit. “Sorry I’m being an ass.” He rocks you side to side. “No you’re not.” you mumble into his chest. He lets out a laugh, his chest vibrating, “I’ll let you go do whatever it is that you have to do.” He pulls away his hands on your shoulder.

It was the last week of working at the office before you start telecommuting. Your stomach was getting larger and larger with each week that passed. That Friday, your coworkers decided to throw you a going away baby shower. Of course you didn’t want it but they just kept persisting. So there you were sitting with a ribbon wrapped around your belly, holding a cup of mineral water.

“How long do you think the belly is?” Lina walked beside you shoving you in everyone’s face (not literally lmfao). “How big is she johnny?” She howled in laughter, “not too big,” He winked, making you cringe internally.

On the other side of the office, Simon sat on the empty desk watching you be passed around, wishing the party was already over so he could take you home. Simon hadn’t spoken to Johnny since the little break room incident, and didn’t plan on speaking to him ever again. That’s until he saw him participating in the game, placing his hand on your stomach while showering you in cheap compliments. Simon hopped off the desk and walked towards the two of you.

“You want to play?” Linda holds the roll of string in front of his face, “What do I do?” He looks at you, “yeesh.” Johnny chuckles, Simon's eyes snap over to johnny. “You guess the size of my belly with the ribbon.” You say, “Want to?” Linda shakes it. He shrugs and takes the ribbon, staring at your stomach extra hard with so much focus. “I’m gonna win,” Johnny announces to you, and you fake a laugh. Simon lets out a grunt, and then snips the ribbon.

“Everyone’s got their piece?” Linda yells, and everyone says yes in unison. “Who’s first?” She asks, and some of the ladies in the front go, then victor, then the security guard whose name you never caught. Then it was Johnny, he reached around you wrapping the ribbon around your waist, it was too big. “Overestimating is better than under, right?” Linda laughs. Johnny does a fake frown at his estimation and you do another fake laugh. It was Simon's turn, “I might be off.” He chuckles, doing the same action, “You better not be.” You mumble so only he can hear. Only for him to surprise himself when he gets it, along with one of the ladies from the front.

Once the “party” is over with, you help cleanup and get told to sit down many times. You sit in Victor's spinny chair and rub your belly watching Linda and Simon pick up loose trash, wrapping paper and baby bottles. “Are you tired?” Johnny appears at your side, “A little,” You say, “I don’t sleep that much already.” You chuckle, looking down at your stomach.

You keep your eyes on Simon who’s holding the trash bag for Linda, because apparently he doesn’t pick up quick enough. You can hear him saying you missed one, over and over again while Linda picks up each piece. His laugh draws hers out when she realizes there’s nothing left on the floor. His smile is bright, causing one to form one of your own (GET UP).

You didn’t even notice Johnny was still next to you, “You okay?” He asks, “Mhm.” You hum. “I wanted to tell you congratulations earlier.” He sits on the desk, blocking your view, exactly how simons does when it’s just you two in his office. “Thank you,” You nod, plucking the glitter out of your sweatshirt. Simon walks up to the two of you glitter all over his hair and on his shoulders some in his eyebrows stuck to his cheeks, “what happened to you?” You laugh, your eyes glowing with love the second he appears. Johnny watches you two interact quietly, “Me and Linda had an accident,” He closes one eye trying not to catch the glitter in his eye.

“You look like a fairy,” You tease, Linda comes around the corner, “I’m gonna head out, Congratulations.” She smiles at you, bending to give you a hug, and then wipes off Simon’s shoulder throwing more glitter on the floor. “Thank you, Linda,” he jokes, making her giggle, “See you monday.” She intones, “bye bye Johnny.” She places a hand on his shoulder then walks out.

You and Simon look at each other and grin, Trying to speak to each other with your eyes. Johnny is still there, “Picked any names?” Johnny interrupts whatever weird gazes are going on between you two. “No, Not yet.” You sigh, over the conversation that barely started. “I always wanted to name a daughter of mine, Eloise..” Johnny mentions. “Shame it’s not your kid.” Simon wipes his nose.

“Shame it’s yours.” Johnny quick with the comeback. “It’s a shame you shot me,” Simon drops it so casually, “I didn’t shoot you,” Johnny defends himself, “well it was just us in there and I think I would know.” SImon squints his eyes. “Of course you would think that, because everyone’s after Simon.” He mocks him, “Exactly like you are.” Simon nods.

“You shouldn’t have been in that room,” Johnny over enunciated, “I told you it wasn’t clear,” He gets louder, “You knew I would’ve let that bullet go right through me if it was you who was standing there.” he bellowed. Johnny stayed quiet for a moment not looking at the man yelling before him, “When I woke up you were gone.” Simon pauses, “and then you didn’t return any of my calls.”

You sit there between them, watching Simon's demeanor change completely, like a little boy begging for his only friend to stay, “Who was I supposed to call Johnny?” He looks at the blue eyed man, who’s eyes were glued to the desk across from you all. “ I don’t have a family, So who was it?” He pushes, Johnny still says nothing, Simon nods, disgust rushing over his face.

“You know what’s sick,” Simon points out, “I still think we’re like before.” He admits his tone harsh, like he’s repulsed with himself, “You won’t ever have to speak to me again, Johnny.” He spits.

“I want you out of this office, away from me and away from her” he points to you.

taglist:@darkravenqueen98. @shunoodles. @lovely-giggles @imjustmes @definitelynotaclown @oreo-cream. @whos-fran @ilovehyperfixating @idkbbyx3 @pieckyghost @mareiasereia @emmalandry @aylaveyou @w00lgathering @sugartits-123 @thesinsoflust @yuujuice

187 notes · View notes

strongheartneteyam · 9 months

Text

[ all credits of the Neteyam pic go to the incredibly talented @cinetrix ♡]

Champagne Problems

Part 2

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader

CW: neteyam is a simp for reader, black cat gf/golden retriever bf "trope", a whole lot of angst, beach party, use of alcohol, some romantic comedy vibes, neteyam acting a bit cocky lol, reader is a tiny bit of a meanie towards neteyam, sexual language, sexual content, reader is a bit antisocial, flirting, emotionally unavailable bc of trauma reader, unrequited love (neteyam is the one having the unrequited feelings), sexual tension, commitment issues, exophilia, size kink, interspecies relationship, bad words. Hit me up to lemme know if I forgot something ahaha

Do you guys remember the story inspired by Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift that I promised like ages ago? Well... The first part is here? 🤓 A lot of people seemed to be excited to read this when I posted that sneak peak. Hope you guys like it! kiss kiss 💗

Neteyam and Reader (AI Art)

Slightly proofread.

Part 1 : Say Yes to Heaven

𓇼

If you dance, I'll dance

And if you don't, I'll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

I've got my eye on you

(...)

Say yes to Heaven, say yes to me

Say Yes To Heaven (Lana Del Rey)

𓇼

"It's not like you're not gonna break me in half if we try to get down and dirty." You laugh a bit too much, the alcohol invading your brain slowly, making you care less and less about behaving in a "socially acceptable" way. Though you wondered if your not-a-bit-elegant-honesty mattered at all to Neteyam Sully, the na'vi boy sitting in the maroon leather couch, by your side, his huge size making the couch look ridiculously small. He was na'vi, after all. Totally different culture. The na'vi were way more upfront about their real thoughts and feelings.

Neteyam had been talking loudly, almost yelling, at your ear for the past 40 minutes, trying to make his voice sound louder than the party's music, so you could hear him try to convince you to hook up with him. As if the loud uplifting songs that echoed in the salty air of that Metkayina beach were not enough to bug your tired head, now you had Neteyam helping your headache get worse.

"That doesn't mean you can't let me take you home. Or even let me make you my mate, eventually, if we end up falling in love while we fuck under the starry sky. You might like laying with me in my hammock and letting me pleasure you more than you think. Maybe you'll want to be my girl once you get a taste of this na'vi spice" He was joking around with you while flirting.

His thick, muscular but still fleshy thighs were spread on the sofa way too much to your liking. It was almost like he was trying to show you how masculine or desirable - some bullshit like that - he was. You know, that kind of thing a lot of guys usually do when trying to seduce you.

You knew Neteyam was aware he was handsome, that his body was attractive. He had always had girls - na'vi and human - all over him since he was a teen, drooling over his beauty.

But if he thought his loverboy flirting that must have worked so easily with just way too many girls before was gonna work that easily with you, he was mistaken.

Okay, you had to admit he was being pretty insistent, though. Neteyam had been there for almost an hour already. You did not understand what was making him insist that much on you if you had an armor as impenetrable as the one of a human warrior of the Middle Ages, back on Earth. And those armors were really hard to get under.

"Listen" you took a last big sip of your champagne and put the glass cup on the wooden table next to the sofa "When you gonna give up, honey? It's not gonna work. I'm not hooking up with you." You looked him in the eyes.

Goddamn, were his orbs big compared to the ones of a human.

They were beautiful, though.

Damn, (y/n)! Focus, girl!

"I'm known among my people for being disciplined, focused and getting what I want because I fight hard for it. You're my focus now, tawtute." (human) I'm not giving up on you. You're like my Ikran. You're wild and hard to get but I'll conquer you, sevin tawtute." (pretty human) "On the first try."

"Cocky much?" You smirked and shook your head in disapproval "No, but, seriously, Neteyam, are you out of your mind? Have you forgotten about tsaheylu? I don't have a neurological queue, babe. I know I have many braids in my hair," You pointed out your hairstyle "but they're all regular human braids. None of them have little tendrils on its tip. Sorry, Neteyam. We're Romeo and Juliet. And Juliet doesn't even love Romeo in this story. You're deemed to heartbreak." You said, like you could not care less about his attempts to win you over, sipping on your sparkling champagne, that went down your throat comfortably, making you feel cozy and safe. It wasn't gonna work, anyway.

You liked champagne a bit too much... you had to admit it was very possible that you had a bit of a drinking problem. Alcohol made you feel warm inside. In an emotional way too. It felt like someone was hugging you, when you would not let many real people hug you because you just were not exactly enthusiastic about having physical contact with just anyone. You only let your closest friends and some family members, like your little sister, hug you.

Some people would often call you "cold" and say that you acted "like a queen, above everyone else", behind your back, but that could not be further from the truth. You actually hated how low your actual self steem was.

"Why don't you look at Munì?" You mentioned the curvy, tall, blue eyed Metkayina girl who clearly had a mad crush on Neteyam. She was incredibly pretty. Nobody could deny that. "She has been drooling over you ever since you got here. Give the poor girl a chance. She's such a cutie. If I liked girls, I'd easily do her. Look at those beautiful, long, toned legs. Look at her wide hips. Damn, she's yummy!" you were drinking too much, your honesty getting way too out there.

"I don't want her. I want you." He spoke, like he really meant it. "My hammock will be hanged between those two big trees you like to collect fruits from. I'll be waiting for you, if you want to meet me."

With that last line being said, Neteyam got up from the sofa and walked away, swiftly finding his younger brother Lo'ak and tapping on his back, like men usually do. Both brothers started what looked like an interesting conversation.

You were left alone wondering how Neteyam could say those words and walk away so nonchalantly.

"Phew! I thought he'd never leave, girlie." Adeline screamed, coming closer to you.

She was your best friend. You guys knew way too much about each other, but that only drove you closer and made you two have a beautiful bond that felt unbreakable. She was one of the few people in the world you trusted with many of your secrets. But not even she knew everything about you. Yes, talk about trust issues…

"God, I was about to call his sister to take him away! Kiri is much more chill and quiet compared to her siblings. She's a sweetheart." You said, finally letting your guard down and being able to relax your body language, laying back on the couch and resting your bare feet on the wooden dark brown table in front of you

𓇼

You cursed yourself while you walked towards Neteyam's big light brown hammock, hanged between two big beautiful trees that reminded you of the Palm Trees that used to exist on Planet Earth.

Why were you doing that, anyway?

"Tawtute! You came." Neteyam smiled, relief all over his face

You sighed.

"Yeah, but I'm still wondering why I did."

"Ouch!" He put his huge four fingered hand on his chest and frowned, like he was in pain

You rolled your eyes at him.

"Stop that, silly." Crossing your arms, you walked towards the big tropical tree in front of his hammock but still a little far

"Hey! Where are you going?" Neteyam almost screamed as you were already further away from him than you should be if you were actually gonna have sex with him

It was like you were running away from and showing up to the "job" at the same time. Go figure out.

You rested your back against that large tree, feeling the rough edges of the wood harassing your skin.

Neteyam was already almost there where you were. His long na'vi legs helped him walk faster than you anticipated.

Neteyam got next to you. You felt a little fear but a bit of excitement, simultaneously, when you realized your head only reached his hip.

Fuck, he was a giant next to you… why the hell did that turn you on?

"Are you afraid of me, yawntutsyìp?" (little loved one) Neteyam said in a lewd, low voice as you looked at him, feeling like a pathetic little ant looking up at a human

Was that how ants felt?

"No, silly, I'm not." You looked away from him and tried to focus on the way the eclipse had beautiful violet and blue tones

That almost worked. If it wasn't for Neteyam using his huge alien hand to stroke your hair softly.

"You're so pretty, tawtute." You could feel his gaze directed at you, you could feel his heat burning your skin. The desire he felt for you was almost freaking tangible.

You kept your eyes on the stars.

"You're not gonna look at me, yawntutsyìp? Lemme see those pretty eyes, hmm?" Fuck, he was turning you on so much, your pussy felt good already and there was a tight knot forming in your lower belly. How did he do that to you with so little effort?

You looked up at Neteyam's face, your neck hurting. You did not expect to see a big bulge under his navy blue loincloth, though. Neteyam was so huge you could not help staring and your face totally betrayed your surprise.

"C'mon, I wanna feel your tiny body on mine." He paused and his big blue hand traced your collarbone and your shoulders "You're so small, tawtute… Hmmm…" he let out something between a moan and a growl "So soft too." Neteyam squeezed your arm, feeling your soft human flesh against his slender fingers "I love how different from na'vi girls you are. I'm so lucky to have you all to myself tonight."

Your breath was now labored and your pussy was soaked. Your poor panties were all wet.

"I'm dying to squeeze those titties. They look incredibly soft. But I won't do anything that intimate before you say "yes" first, yawntutsyìp."

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx (u asked to be tagged in all my writings so I'm tagging u here hehe)

Comments are very welcome. I love all of you who take time to read my writings ♡ Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. If you wanna be added to the taglist, just leave a comment down below <3

750 notes · View notes

sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨, 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞, & 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐄𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of self depreciating thoughts

↳ song: be nice to me—the front bottoms

masterlist!

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨

• He is the best at assuring you that you're beautiful; no matter the time of day. Flattery is one of his love languages after all

• Whispers sweet nothings to you as he hugs you from behind, doing his best to squash each and every negative thought that pops up

• Most of what he says is in his mother tounge. It's a lot easier for Alejandro to spill his heart out to you that way. If you know spanish, he just smiles as he buries his face in your neck—placing soft kisses along your skin. If not, he'll gently translate it with just as much love as the first times

• Even though he might be a villian, Alejandro wont stand to see anyone put you down. Anyone. Not Heather, Duncan, Mal, Chris; you name it. He'll shut them down with a quick witted quip, tight smile conveying his true emotions

• Is adamant that is he doesn't win the game, he wants you to. After all how could you not? You're smart and courageous and stunning and—

• "Okay okay Al. I get it." You shook your head playfully, sighing

• You're the only one that gets to call him that. It's the only way he won't shiver when he hears the nickname. Plus he likes how it sounds coming from you

• "Anything for you amore."

𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞

• Mike is in absolute disbelief that you'd ever think you were anything short of amazing. I mean, really? You of all people thinking thst you don't measure up to others? Impossible. He just doesn't understand

• Mike is comforting in the aspect that he doesn't get it. One of the reasons he has a giant crush on you in the first place is, well, literally everything about you

• He adores you, and will go on small tangents about all the things he loves about you without even noticing

• "—and I mean don't even get me started on your kindness!" Mike laughed with heat tinting the top of his ears. He had been talking for quite some time now, not noticing that you had been staring at him with a greatful shine in your eyes

• Once you sit down and explain that it's a mental state, he just sort of goes. Oh. And then proceeds to hug you tightly. And I mean tightly. This guy has some strength on him—we've all seen how he nearly crushed Cameron that one time

• "I'll always be here for you!" He titters happily. "I think you're amazing no matter what!"

• Probably calls you awesome sauce anytime he notices you feeling down. It's so ridiculous that it just manages to cheer you up everytime

𝐌𝐚𝐥

• Durring All Stars, all Mal can think about is winning. He doesn't have time for pesky emotions like all the other peons. It'd just slow him down

• "Why do I care if they feel like dirt. It's not my problem they can't keep their eyes on the prize." Mal frowns at the confessional camera deeply. Normally, he'd be downright gleeful at the prospect of someone being thrown off their game. But he can only bring himself to glower

• For the sake up keeping up appearances, and only for the sake of keeping up appearances, he'll approach you this one time

• "Hey there buddy!" He dragged out the y in hey, hair flipped up on his forehead to look like Mike. "What's wrong?"

• Tells himself that he's only doing this to blackmail you later

• Cameras later cut to another one of Mals' confessionals. This time, he refuses to make eye contact with the lense

• "Maybe I helped them feel a little better. So fucking what." He glares. "It's not like I care or anything. Because I don't." Mal makes sure to emphasize that last sentence deeply

• He doesn't seem to mean it

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭��𝐛𝐚

• His way of comforting you consists of taking his hat off and placing it on your head for you to wear. All while ruffling your hair

• Isn't opposed to sitting and listening to what's got you down in the dumps. He can't promise that he'll offer good advice, but the time spent with you is his way of showing that he cares

• Resorts to sly compliments and winks to try and make you feel better

• "Come on. Let's see that smile! Ah there it is, you beaut!"

• Later, he presents you with a nice rock from some excavating he had been doing for fun. Said it reminded him of you the moment he had dug it out

𝐒𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚

• "Zis vill not ztand!"

• Svetlana immediately grabs you by the shoulders and brings you closer to her, an extremely serious look on her face as your eyes widen

• "You are ze best person Svetlana knows!" She furrows her brows. You begin to say something, but she cuts you off immediately. "You vil not slander your amazingness. Svetlana will not alow it!"

• Even if it was just a small self-loathing joke you made, or a giant trauma dump, she'll always act with the same intensity. Will not let you think for a single second that you're worth less than you really are

• Absolutely does silly tricks to cheer you up. Even pretends to fail a couple just to hear you laugh

• "Silly Svetlana!" She sighs dramatically from her spot on the ground, peaking an eye open when you're not looking to smile at the way you laugh

𝐕𝐢𝐭𝐨

• For once in his life time he stops flexing to listen to you

• Is absolutely baffled. Perhaps even a little bamboozled

• "Ayo, I know no one can ever measure up to tha Vito, but you're a close second." He smiles charmingly with his hands on his hips. It's his highest verson of a compliment

• Offers to take you out for a tan session at the lake. Insists that it always makes him feel better and that it will for you to. It's not like he's just saying that so he can see you in a swimsuit. Why would you ever think that?

• "Okay okay, you caught me. But it's only because I think you're smoking ho— ow!"

• Pretends to recoil in pain when you hit him, complaining about how strong you are. Is pleaded when you have to hide a smile at his antics

• "There we go sunshine! Now come on let's go. I know you're just waiting to get a peice of this action on the beach."

• You smile and tell him to shut up

453 notes · View notes

cinnbar-bun · 5 months

Text

Gentleman- (Brook x Reader) SMUT

Summary: You and Brook have been doing this for a while now, teasing each other and seeing who will make the first move. Ever the gentleman, Brook is happy to play along until you give him permission to go further.

Rating: NSFW

Content: AFAB and GN! Reader, teasing, consensual voyeurism tease, strap-on, handcuffs + restraints, explicit consent, slight temp play, inappropriate use of Brook's DF, Brook and Reader being teases and menaces to each other, missionary, and confessions of love.

Also a bonus ending haha.

Word Count: ~3.1k

A/n: Requested <3 Yes we ARE fucking the skeleton man and god damn it he is the best of the best. No I am not accepting criticism nor will I get therapy. THIS IS FOR ALL THE BROOK STANS WHO ARE THIRSTY FOR MORE. DON'T WORRY, YOUR GIRL IS JUST AS THIRSTY FOR HIM TOO! Thank you for the request, darling, and I hope you enjoy!!! This was a blast to write.

You can read on my AO3 here!

“Brook, are you coming with us to shop?” Luffy asked. Brook took a drag of his cigarette and glanced over to your figure sitting on the deck. He hummed then shook his head.

“Sorry, Luffy, I’ll have to pass on that today,” Brook stated. The smoke was leaking through his eye sockets and nose, but he could still make you out. He knew you were listening in, and the mischievous grin on your face told him you enjoyed his answer.

And, well, he had to admit, he quite enjoyed your reaction too. He exhaled another puff of smoke as Luffy shrugged.

“Okay. You and (Y/n) can watch the ship then,” Luffy waved. The other crew members had gotten off the ship, but Robin was the last to go, following behind Luffy after glancing at you and Brook with a raised brow. Brook didn’t give her an inch, continuing to casually smoke as if everything was well. At this moment, he didn’t particularly care what Robin may or may not have thought. The game was just beginning again, and he had a role to play.

Today… perhaps today would finally be the day he could manage to win the prize.

As Robin’s heels clicking eventually got quieter, Brook exhaled again. Smoking didn’t particularly do much for him as a pile of bones, but the few glances you’d shoot at him before looking down again confirmed to him that you indeed seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t take you for the type, but then again, he didn’t take you for the type to do any of things you were doing now.

He also didn’t think he was the type to play along with it as well.

It seemed that despite being dead and a skeleton, he was still a man through and through. The thought humored and comforted him somewhat, while also making him feel absolutely ridiculous.

You kept drinking quietly on your spot in the deck, with a spare cup of tea right beside you.

Of course you’d make tea. He loved tea. And this little “invitation” of yours would be nothing but trouble, should he accept.

He strode over to you and picked up the cup. It was still warm, the perfect temperature for him to drink it at.

“Ah, thank you for the tea, my dear,” Brook said in appreciation, with a hint of the profane beneath that kindness. You looked up to him and smiled.

“I figured you’d want some. You’re my drinking buddy,” you joke, using the old nickname he gave for the both you. He chuckles and takes a sip.

“It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?” He says, not really caring about the weather. You don’t care about it either, keeping your eyes trained onto his.

“Mhm. It’s just a bit too hot for me…” you fan your face with your hand before tugging at your tight top. He knows what you’re pulling. He’s a lot taller than you, so he can look down at you as you show off your cleavage by tugging on the top. He doesn’t show any emotion or do anything beyond just sip his tea. He’s not letting you win this one today.

You’re not impressed with his reaction, as he sees your face falter for a brief second. You arch your back and groan loudly.

“Oh man, my back is killing me,” you say dramatically. He continues to watch as you stretch, curiously thinking of how you would look on your bed.

Snap out of it!

“That’s too bad. Perhaps you should try to take it easy today,” he suggests. “Maybe lay down for a while?”

“That sounds nice but I was thinking about taking a bath right now,” you say as you run a hand through your hair and stand up. Even when you were standing, you still had to look up at him due to his height. You don’t even wait for his reply as you turn around and stretch again, this time bending over so he can take a good look at your behind. “See you in a bit,” you wink.

Brook can feel the cracks beginning to form in the cup he’s holding.

“Enjoy your bath. Should I be watching over you just in case?” He asks. It is the game you two have played, but even with his own fantasies, he won’t overstep with you.

“I’d like that,” you say, giving him permission. “I’ll feel much safer knowing you’re keeping an eye on me.”��

And just like that, you two have folded. You saunter away, making sure to glance back at him over your shoulder. Brook feels the excitement running through his bones. He follows after you, keeping a sizeable distance while you disappear into your room to change. He waits outside, and he’s eager to use his Devil Fruit to take a peek, but that would spoil the fun, he thinks.

So he waits. He hears the fumbling of your clothes, the opening of some drawers, some metal clinking- and then a small yelp.

He drops his composure and knocks on the door.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright in there?” He asks.

“Yes. I need some help though. Can you come in?” He immediately swings open the door once you ask, and he’s shocked at the sight.

You’re leaning on your bed, a towel wrapped around you while you hold your knee.

“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod.

“I think it might be a small cut. Could you open that drawer over there and hand me a bandage?” You ask, pointing at the small nightside next to the bed. He nods and opens the drawer before another gasp.

Inside is…

He closes it.

“M-my mistake,” he quickly apologizes, the embarrassment obvious in his voice. You click your tongue and dramatically sigh.

“Oh, stupid me. I forgot that was where I keep my strap on and handcuffs!” You reply, and he glances at you to see you look completely fine while batting your eyes again at him. “I’m just so silly. I hope no handsome skeleton tries to use them with me right now. That would be awful.”

You lean in closer to him, and he does too, admittedly enjoying how coy and forward you’re being today.

“It would be a shame. How much would you dislike it if he did such a thing?” Brook asks, letting one of his fingers trail down the side of your face before he grabs your chin.

“I’d absolutely despise it,” you whisper, and the heat of your breath sends shivers down his spine.

“Well, fortunately for you, I am no handsome skeleton. Is that okay?” He whispers back as his other hand opens the drawer to bring out the fuzzy handcuffs you had there.

“It’s more than okay,” you reply, and that’s all he needs before he quickly pins you to your bed and cuffs you. This is the furthest the two of you have gone, and you both relish in the surprise and excitement on your faces.

He notices the way your face turns brighter, the smile on your face getting larger, and the way your chest rises up a little faster due to your breathing. It’s all so enticing to him. He can’t help but look at you as if you’re the only thing in the world right now. In this moment, you might as well be.

“We should be quick, yes? I imagine the others will be back soon,” he reminds you.

“I don’t care, honestly. I’m sure some of them probably figured it out already. Now come on, are you going to fuck me, or what?” You smirk.

“You’re quite mouthy, darling. I thought you had some manners,” Brook teases your language, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Sorry. Please, Brook, will you fuck me, or what?”

“We’ll get there eventually,” he laughs back. He holds your restrained wrists with one bony hand (geez, was he always this strong?) and lets the other trail over your loose towel. He swiftly yanks it off with one tug, and lets it lay under the bottom half of your body, like the gentleman he is. He is amazed you’re letting your body be barren for him to see- to explore, finally.

It is a tantalizing figure, as his fingers trace the outline of your body, from your collarbone, over your soft chest, to your stomach. The trembling breath you release is music to his ears, and he can’t wait to hear more.

“Your body is a work of art, dear,” he says with a soft and genuine tone of voice. It catches you by surprise, as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I mean it. You’re very lovely.”

His fingers keep stroking over your skin, and he enjoys the feel of it. He wants to remember this moment for decades to come. He wants to indulge in this feeling, of this gorgeous human presented underneath him. In his years of living (and unliving), he hadn’t quite felt so attracted to another. And though he knew what the end would bring, he still wanted to spend a moment with you. To allow him and you the chance to finally be one.

“May I continue?” He asks. You nod and make another sound of encouragement. His hand cups at your breast, rubbing and squeezing the soft flesh in his hand. It is soft and warm. It’s unlike anything else, really.

You’re warm all over, and the natural heat of your body makes him long and desire more.

“Can I try something?” Brook pauses his ministrations and you nod.

“Go ahead, Brook,” you respond your curiosity peaked. Brook places the hand against your stomach and you instantly gasp when you feel a slight chill where is his hand is.

“Brook-!” You let out such a delicious moan of his name, and he grins.

“You like that?”

“Yes, go on…” you whimper. He gets excited at this, and begins to run his hand along your warm skin, cooling it off gently with his powers. The sensation makes you shiver and let out beautiful sounds he wishes to hear more of.

Now he’s feeling a bit selfish. He wants to pull more sounds out of you.

He stops with the cooling touch and instead has his hand travel to your lower region.

“Ah, you’re dripping wet,” He teases, running a finger through your folds and showing you the sticky fluid on it. It’s almost embarrassing, but you’ve long abandoned shame for this moment.

“Don’t take so much time,” you whine.

“Darling, you can’t expect me to see this and not enjoy your body, do you?” At this, he leans down to your ear while his thumb circles your clit and a finger enters your body. The loud exhale you let out was lovely. “Allow me to show you what you have done to me with all that damn teasing.”

His finger moves faster, before he adds another and you throw your head back.

“Heh, you’re just upset you kept falling for them,” you cheekily respond.

“Perhaps. But no more games right now. I want you. I want you badly,” Brook replied earnestly.

His fingers were stretching you out, and you moaned.

“And you want me, too,” he adds. You nod.

“In the drawer… lube in there…” you breathlessly say. He complied and quickly brings out the bottle.

“Yohohoho! You really came prepared!” Brook laughed. “I guess I should get undressed, shouldn’t I? Although, I’m already naked!”

You rolled your eyes at another of his bad jokes, but he saw how you had a small smile on your face.

“Just take them off, Brook,” you chuckle, and Brook slowly removed his fingers from inside you. He removed his jacket and pants, revealing himself fully to you. Even though most of his skeleton was visible on a usual basis, to expose himself like this to you, in this context, was almost… frightening to him. He let you stare for a moment, let you take it in, in case you wished for him to stop. He certainly wouldn’t blame you if you had said so.

But instead, you tilted your head towards the toy and looked at him with raised brows.

“You ready?” You asked, confused and sounding vulnerable- as if you were afraid he wished to leave. Brook ran his thumb over your cheeks.

“Yes. Very much so. I’ve waited a long time for this,” he replied in a hushed manner. With that, he had attached the strap on to his pelvis and applied a liberal amount of lube so as to not hurt you. He held your hips and gently rubbed the dildo across your folds a few times to stimulate you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. Go ahead, Brook,” you replied, and with a swift thrust, he sunk into your soft walls. Although he couldn’t feel it, the noise you made was precious. Beautiful. You took deep breaths to adjust, and Brook rubbed your stomach in tender circles to soothe you.

“Sh….sh… tell me when to go, dear,” he whispered. You swallowed roughly before panting out a ‘go’, and he began to move his hips. Your chest and body bounced with every thrust he made, and he watched in amusement at the way your face contorted with pleasure.

“Oh, geez, Brook… fuck…” you moaned out loud, freely expressing yourself knowing that none fo the other members were here.

“Good, good… let it out. Let it all out. Let me hear your voice,” Brook ordered. He moved a hand lower down your body and let his thumb rub your clit again. The sensation of the toy inside you and his finger against your sensitive nub drove you mad, making you scream in joy and ecstasy.

“Harder!” You yelled, and Brook complied by thrusting his hips faster. He leaned down towards you, pinning your arms again with his other hand.

“As you wish, my dear. But don’t blame me if you can’t walk after, alright?” You were too focused on the pleasure to respond or care, giving a weak nod. Brook found it almost cute, but he didn’t want to embarrass you or make you feel self-conscious, so he kept the thought to himself.

The pleasure in you was growing as Brook continued to hold you tighter, squeeze you harder, and fuck you faster. It was almost inhuman how hard he was going, and the attention he was giving to your body made you melt against the bed. You whined, begged, pleaded, and cried pathetically, thanking Brook for the pleasurable experience.

“You’re getting close, hm? You’re squeezing it so tight and your breathing is getting faster,” Brook hummed to himself.

“Y-yes, Brook… please…” you whined, and Brook removed the hand pinning you down to stroke your throat.

“I want to be a bit selfish, darling. I want to hear you scream my name,” he said. “Can you do that for me?”

“B-Brook,” you stammered.

“Louder.”

“Brook,” you stated as his hips hammered into you.

“You can do better than that,” he commented.

“Brook!” You cried as he hit a wonderful spot inside you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and Brook took it as his cue to get you over the edge.

“Louder, my dear! I know you can do it! Put your soul into it!”

The thumb working on your bundle of nerves pressed down and you felt your oxygen being taken away as the coil that had been building up within you snapped.

“BROOK!” You screamed, orgasming around the toy. Brook slowed his hips down to a halt while he let his his thumb continue to circle to extend your orgasm.

You shakily rested against the bed, gasping for air and twitching in delight. You felt a cool touch on your forehead as Brook placed his hand and used his Devil Fruit powers again.

“This should help you settle down and relax,” he explained, and the hot pulse of your lower body combined with his cool touch on top made for a pleasant feeling.

“Thank you, Brook,” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering in exhaustion. You let out a quiet laugh and had a tired smile, a sign the afterglow was getting to you. He wanted to bask in it for a long time. Brook removed the strap-on and had placed it to the side, taking to settling beside you on the bed as he undid your handcuffs.

He wrapped his bony arms around you, spooning you against him. It was quiet, minus the sound of your breathing. That was, until you spoke up.

“I love you,” you stated in a low tone.

“H-huh?” He gasped, taken aback by your confession.

“I love you,” you repeated.

“(Y/n), is this the sex talking?” He joked, unsure if you were being serious. No, it was more like… like he couldn’t believe you felt that way for him.

“No. It’s my heart talking. I love you.”

He stayed silent, not certain of how he should respond. You curled into yourself, expecting rejection. Instead, Brook pulled you closer and and rested his chin on the crook of your shoulder.

“Then, if that is the case… allow me to give my heart to you, as well. Of course, I don’t have a heart anymore but you’ll allow that, won’t you?” Brook asked. You sighed in relief.

“I won’t mind. Not at all, Brook.”

“Wonderful. (Y/n), you do have all of me. Even though I don’t have a body or heart, my soul will be yours,” Brook confessed. “I will always treasure you within me.”

He stroked the side of your body before he heard your quiet snores. He chuckled as he pressed his “mouth” to your head, as if kissing you.

BONUS:

“Hey, where are those two?!” Nami cried, lugging back tons of bags from their shopping trip.

“Some guarding they were doing,” Zoro scratched his head as he threw a large box onto the deck floor. Luffy meanwhile, looked around and frowned.

“Do you think they ate without us? Meanies,” the captain pouted. Robin glanced to the deck table and noticed the cup of tea you had brewed earlier- or, more accurately, the one you made for Brook- and chuckled.

“It’s best we don’t disturb them. They probably got tired,” Robin said in a mirthful tone. She had a smile on her face, and Nami recognized that smile. It was the smile that meant that Robin knew something no one else did. Nami raised a brow at Robin before dusting off her hands.

“Well, since they’ve rested up, the least they could do is help us put all these supplies away!” Nami responded, not even daring to guess what Robin was thinking of.

Robin nodded.

“Of course. I’ll go let them know they’re wanted here,” she laughed again as she began walking to the your room.

#one piece oneshots #one piece x reader #op smut #one piece smut #one piece #brook #one piece brook #brook x reader #op brook x reader #smut

176 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 5 months

Text

Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night.

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules.

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here.

Just like you were.

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.”

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.”

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Then lead the way.”

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod.

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid.

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you.

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods.

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you.

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly.

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity.

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?”

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’”

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.”

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned.

“That we did.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you.

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there.

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement.

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors.

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.”

He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said.

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry.

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating.

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different.

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back.

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.”

You hummed and nodded.

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder.

“Are you cold?” Kili asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes.

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody.

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible.

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant.

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies.

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind.

And they were getting closer.

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you.

Kili grimaced.

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden. Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance.

“Can you see them?” He asked.

“Shh.”

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three.

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce.

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head.

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled.

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours.

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy.

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air.

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up.

You didn’t take it.

“We need to keep moving.”

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.”

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words.

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end.

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy.

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly.

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.”

“I need to find my sisters.”

You kept walking.

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone.

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting.

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks.

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned.

“We’ll make it.”

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine.

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions.

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again.

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted.

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real.

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you.

In a blink, the blizzard set in.

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours.

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you.

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin.

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind.

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.”

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened.

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth.

Kili gulped. “I hoped.”

“You hoped?”

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.”

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms.

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.”

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head.

“Alright,” you conceded.

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.”

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold.

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep.

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N! Where are you?”

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Maryina and Baeriel.

You listened again.

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you.

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard.

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver.

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape.

Empty.

“Y/N?”

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs.

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind.

“Y/N!” He called out.

The storm screamed in response.

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away.

“Y/N!” He shouted again.

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter.

Why would you have gone off alone?

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone.

“Y/N!”

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders.

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket.

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you.

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….”

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth.

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.”

Already, you looked like a walking corpse.

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.”

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope.

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.”

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.”

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek.

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time.

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant.

He was, and would always be, your shelter.

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest.

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes.

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead.

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber.

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing.

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies.

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them.

Fili turned to his brother.

Kili shook his head.

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step.

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone.

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.”

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?”

Both turned to you.

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you.

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you.

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you.

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed.

“What would you have me do?”

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale.

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.”

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.”

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move.

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t?

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years.

He loved you.

Perhaps Fili was right.

Maybe it was time to finally tell you.

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place.

What if this was a mistake?

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped.

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you.

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer.

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word.

Finally.

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing.

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change.

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop.

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you.

He said it again, now. “I love you.”

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time.

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.”

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours.

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded.

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.”

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him.

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked.

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

#kili #kili durin son #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #fili #kili and fili #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #fantasy #winter #cuddling

252 notes · View notes

sciderman · 1 month

Note

Quick! Infodump about something!

HHH UH. UHHH. UUUUH. okay. okay. i'm going to info dump about what i did today and it's NOT going to be about spider-man. let me infodump about something else i got really giddy about today and that's the crystal palace dinosaurs.

i've wanted to visit crystal palace for the longest time but have never had the time to do it. so i woke up this morning RESOLUTE that today is the day. today is the day i'm finally going to see them. the crystal palace dinosaurs.

they were made in 1857 back before we had all of these archeological finds that completely changed the way we look at dinosaurs. look at these goofy guys. look at these guys.

they're just giant iguanas. i love them.

i got so, so unreasonably excited about these guys. and look at these wiggly guys. look at them.

i love this photo because there we have a still breathing dinosaur (the goose) sitting on top of a ridiculous interpretation what we thought a dinosaur was 150 years ago.

of course i was listening to the jurassic park theme song as i went, because the crystal palace dinosaurs were the blueprint. this was the first jurassic park, baby. oh yeah. oh yeah.

i drew the wiggly boy.

look at him.

yeah, okay i wasn't having a very good art day today and i was too giddy about the dinosaurs to draw anything good. but my favourite thing about my sketchbook is that it is so shitty. and whenever i flick through it again i smile because this crappy doodle means a lot to me. i remember how stupid giddy was when i drew this crappy little wiggly man. and that means so much more to me.

i loved this mural on the restrooms. these funky little guys.

i kind of am obsessed with our old inaccurate dinosaurs. i'm so obsessed with the little raptors in the london natural history museum because i remember when they were naked. but they put little feather jackets on them since we discovered dinosaurs might have been feathered. look at these guys in their feather jackets.

they just.. took these guys and put them in fursuits. im gongna cry.

here you go here is my little small fascination people don't know about and that is scientifically inaccurate depictions of dinosaurs. i think about the raptors in their little fursuits ALL the time. AAAAALL the time.

#sci speaks

126 notes · View notes

tartarusknight · 1 year

Text

Eddie had this thing where he'd lie to the simplest questions. Honestly, it wasn't even because he thought it was funny or that he felt uncomfortable. It was just that sometimes someone would ask him something, and a lie would come out. Well, it wasn't the truth either.

Because Eddie grew up having to lie. His dad told him to lie to the cops. His mom told him to lie to his dad. Wayne told him not to let people know why Eddie was kicked out, that he was a queer. Soon, lying became a part of his performance, and Eddie was always the performer.

But eventually, it got to the pint where he'd panic at the thought of telling the truth in moments when he didn't feel in control. So he'd lie about the most basic things.

Like once Dustin asked what his favorite color was, and without hesitating, Eddie replied, "Forest green." Like sure, green was a nice color, but he always loved red. And he didn't want to be like, "Haha, I was just lying. I like red," so he gave Dustin a smile and continued on.

It never really was a big thing. He could just confuse people later when someone inevitably asked again. However, there were a few things that started to go downhill. He moved in with Wayne and told the older man he was allergic to celery. He wasn't, but he told this huge story that had Wayne believing. So, Wayne went out of his way to make sure he was always good.

Or when Gareth asked if he played anything else and he lied and spun a story of playing piano with his mother. And the time when Mike asked if he was doing okay after the Upside Down and Eddie went off on a tangent about how well he was adjusting. (Although he's sure the kid knew that was a lie)

Anyways, don't yell at him. He knew it was wrong, okay? He just could stop it. And he wished he could when it came to Steve. Steve made him nervous, honestly. He was hot and kind, and he always listened to Eddie. Three perfect qualities. And even better, Eddie had watched him rip a demobat apart with his bare hands. So yeah, if Steve wasn't kind, Eddie would be scared of him, but... Eddie mostly just wants to bite him. (Aka, he has a pathetic crush on him)

And when Eddie got crushes, his anxiety spiked, and so did his lying. Which wasn't going great. Steve asked if he was busy, Eddie spun this story of a trip to Indy with Gareth. Steve asked what his favorite food was, and Eddie said he liked smoothies more than solid food. Steve asked him what the black hanky stood for, and Eddie said how he wanted to be a pirate when he was younger. He asked more and more and Eddie continued to lie.

However, it got really annoying when Robin asked him, as she stood next to Steve if he was a friend of Dorothy's, and Eddie pretended not to know what they were talking about. Even as their expressions dimmed and Eddie continued on like nothing was wrong.

Or when Steve asked if he had his eye on anyone and Eddie's mouth started up while his brain froze. He wasn't exactly sure what he said, but he knew it wasn't that he was gay and in love with him, so....

Eventually, Erica called him out on it. They were watching a movie he lied and said he had never seen before. She looked at him with an annoyed expression on her face. "Why do you do that?"

Everyone looked confused, but Eddie just looked away, "do what?"

She snorted, "Lie."

He tensed up but forced himself to shrug. She didn't look like she bought it. He huffed, and words just spilled out. "Lie? Why would I lie? There's no reason to. Honestly, Lady Applejack, I don't understand why you would-"

"Cut the shit, Edward." She snapped.

"Erica," a chorus sounded from the group, and Eddie winced.

"But you do lie a lot." Dustin said softly, and Eddie felt like he might make a break for it.

"He doesn't lie a lot," Steve said, jumping to his aide. Which made Eddie feel like dying honestly. Robin nodded, but the kids didn't look convinced.

Dustin sat up, "Eddie what's your favorite food?"

And the words just spilled out, "this is ridiculous. I'm not a pathologic liar."

But Nancy was on the scent now. "Then answer the question."

And he would, but he knows he gave each kid a different answer. "So, I have to prove myself you?" He didn't even put any hurt in his tone. No, he was too busy trying not to break down.

"No he does-"

Except Eddie didn't want Steve to defend him. "Don't," he begged, and Steve's eyes widened. "Fuck," he jumped up and stormed out of the living room. He could hear the party, but words seemed to blur together.

His childhood had been ruined because of liars, and he had become one. Now, he'd ruin his future because he became who his parents raised after all. They'd all realize he couldn't help it. That he was just a coward in every way.

"Eddie!" Steve called, and Eddie pulled open his van door, but Steve shoved it shut. "Eddie, I'm sorry they have no -"

Eddie turned towards him and could feel the tears falling. "Stop defending me!" He snapped and watched Steve take a step forward before he faltered. "They're fucking right! Don't you get that! I'm a Liar, Steve!"

Steve finally took the step closer, "It's okay."

Eddie knocked him back, "no its not! I just can't stop it! My mouth moves on its own, and I can help it! My nerves get the best of me, and I say shit like, no, Steve, I'm not gay! I'm completely straight! I'm totally not in love with you! But I'm going to pretend to be busy so I don't have to deal with the anxiety of lying to you day in and day out!"

"Oh," Steve says softly, and Eddi looks away. "You love me?"

Eddie's mouth starts up, "what I didn't -"

Steve covers his mouth, "I've been trying to get a read on you for months. God, you have not been helpful. So I'm just going to say that I like you too. I really do, and I'm like a hair trigger from loving you, honestly. Robin was sure that you weren't straight, but then you monologed about how badass Nancy was and well..." Eddie winced and flushed at the idea of saying Nancy was his type. "You don't have to be scared of us. You're our friend, and we care about you."

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls his hand back. "I'm a terrible person."

Steve snorts, "Nah, you're human. Robin rambles when she's nervous. You lie. I flirt. The holy trinity."

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Oh yeah, a holy trinity."

Steve clears his throat, "So, if I'm not reading this wrong, you'd go on a date with me?"

Eddie nods, "yeah."

"Good."

A Part 2 done by @fairy-princette

#and everyone bullies Eddie into accepting their love #he secretly has a huge tell and it gets to the point he couldn't even lie if he wants to #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie needs a hug #i dont know why i made this

585 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 11 months

Note

Hello there!! Thanks for all the advice you’ve given thus far!! It’s been a huge help in my writing journey, though I find that the ONE thing I still struggle with is finding time to work on some of my current writing projects.

I work an 8-5 through the week, and on weeknights and weekends I’m trying to catch up on energy to prepare for the next week ahead. Do you have any tips or suggestions on what I can do to try and sneak some writing in? Thanks in advance!

Tips for Sneaking Writing Into a Busy Schedule

#1 - Figure Out Your "Three B's" - If you're struggling to fit writing into a busy schedule, the first thing you should do is figure out your "three B's"... the bare minimum, better, and best amount of time you can commit to writing each day. The bare minimum amount of time should be a ridiculously low number, ten minutes or less, that you can manage even on the busiest of busy days. The better amount should be the most reasonable amount of time... a balance between a logical amount of productivity and the reality of your schedule. If you have a lot of busy days, this should probably be somewhere between fifteen minutes and an hour. And finally, the best amount is kind of the "pie in the sky" number... the reasonable amount of time you'd commit to writing if you had a day off and not a lot to do. The goal here is to aim for that middle number most days, but on long days when you have no energy leftover for writing, you've still got to hit that bare minimum. You don't even have to actually write during this "writing time." You can re-read a scene or chapter, edit, revise, brainstorm, research, look at inspiration photos, read a craft book... anything that moves the needle on your WIP in some way.

#2 - De-Stress Writing - Our brains are wired to avoid things that cause us stress, and stressful things also take a lot of energy to deal with. So, if you get even a little stressed thinking about your WIP or writing in general, you're gonna have a harder time committing to that bare minimum, better, or best writing time. The best thing you can do to de-stress writing for yourself is to stop giving yourself a hard time for not writing, not reaching goals, not completing tasks, etc. Give yourself grace, tell yourself it's okay, you'll hit that bare minimum tomorrow. Other things you can do: set up a reward system for yourself for when you hit small but important goals, eat or drink a favorite treat while you write, burn a scented candle, or listen to some soft music.

#3 - Create a Writing Ritual - Sometimes it helps to take a few minutes to switch your brain into "writing mode." This can be any number of little things that tells your brain "it's time to write now." It can be putting your phone on silent, sitting in a particular spot, lighting a scented candle, repeating a mantra, doing some stretches or meditating, listening to a certain song or putting on a particular type of soft music, or even a particular treat or beverage. When you choose a few things like this to do every time you sit down to write, and only when you sit down to write, your brain will start to associate those things with writing which helps it slip into "writing mode."

#4 - Eliminate Distractions - This one is really important when you have limited time... When you sit down for your writing time, put your phone on silent or set up "do not disturb" so that only really important calls/texts will come in. Avoid radio stations or music with lyrics if the talk is going to distract you. Use an internet blocking app if you can't trust yourself to fall down Google rabbit holes. Let people know you're going to be writing during that time and ask them not to disturb you. Anything you can do to eliminate distractions will help.

#5 - Boost Your Energy - No matter how busy you are, most of us have time in our schedule to commit to writing, even if that means getting up fifteen minutes early. However, if we feel tired and lack the energy to write, it can be very easy to pretend that fifteen minutes isn't available or that we need every last minute of sleep we can get. In that case, try doing a little energy booster before your writing time. This might be having a cup of coffee or a high energy breakfast smoothie, it could be taking a cold shower or listening to an energetic favorite son. If you can move your body for a few minutes, that helps, too. Walking, running in place, or jumping jacks are great if you're able to do them. If not, energetically moving any part of your body can give you a little energy boost... enough to get you through that bare minimum writing time.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

236 notes · View notes

triflesandparsnips · 5 months

Text

So I was, as per normal, thinking again about Stede just collapsing into the cabin-kiss, and like-- we talk a lot about how Stede had just killed a guy, he was maybe not in the best headspace for sexy times, but--

in looking around for a kiss gif (AS PER NORMAL), I saw this one too:

...and I've been wondering and wondering about that face, right? Stede's face. A bit silly, kind of the embodiment of "smiling helplessly", a phrase that sounds bad out of context but usually appears when someone is just absolutely delighted by the existence of something-- or someone-- doing something ridiculous and amazing...

And it occurred to me that: Stede went to hide in his room so he could freak out, right? He's used to hiding, or trying to hide, how he feels when it comes to the childhood trauma stuff. And he's used to literally hiding in his cabin unless/until someone approaches that he has to mask back up for-- we see that all the way back in the very first episode of season 1.

But that night? The person who approached was Ed.

And not there asking him to be 'the captain'. Not telling him to 'man up' about the killing thing. Not even asking him to be the Romantic Lead or the Lost Love Return'd, roles Stede had been eager and wanting to play but just. not right now.

It could've gone wrong. Stede didn't say "come in"-- he didn't say anything at all, just opened the door, maybe expecting-- god, what he's gotten before, every single other time his entire life--

And Ed... changes the script.

He doesn't step in, doesn't break Stede's boundary, doesn't ask for anything from Stede. He just wants to see if Stede's okay. And more than that: By providing his own feelings about killing his dad, he's letting Stede know that, for the record? Stede doesn't have to be okay.

So... so for maybe the first time that Stede can remember-- or at least maybe the first time we see on-screen-- Stede is hurting, and. And someone comes to comfort him.

No ulterior motives. No quid pro quo. No requirement that he feel one way or another, be this or that kind of person.

Someone-- no, not just someone, Ed, who knows Stede, who's seen him and understood him and could ask so much from Stede if he wanted to-- just sees that he's hurting, and wants to help.

And like-- have you ever felt that kind of kindness? It's heady enough when it's a stranger. But when it's someone you know, someone you care about, someone you trust (hope, pray that you can trust) to hold the delicate, vulnerable heart of you--

Fuck, okay, that face, that silly face, that face that says nothing but looks like it's about to cry and to laugh and it's heartbreak for the past that never felt that kind of comfort and wonder for the person who made it possible in the present and it all adds up to just smiling helplessly--

Listen.

They say that in musicals, songs happen when a character's feelings are too strong for mere dialogue to contain.

I say that in this moment, Stede's actions aren't because he's addled from the kill, but because his feelings-- what love can mean beyond "romance", what it does, what it gives, what it allows, what it makes possible-- rise up and over and wash his hands against Ed's jacket and twist them both to the wall, and then, and then--

just collapse him into that warm embrace, where all the hundred thousand words he could try to find to explain what this love feels like can, for a short while at least, be transmuted into a form that can say them all at once.

#our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #kisses #and how to feel about them

115 notes · View notes

whereianonymouslypostfics · 9 months

Text

If Anyone Falls

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~6.7k

Summary: Wanda takes you on a very special date

A/N: This is the first time fic! The actual first time fic, so 18+ y'all! I CONTINUE TO BLOCK AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS, SO BEWARE.! (capitalized because people seem to still miss this part). This takes place before 'Broke'. For my fellow Stevie Nicks stans❤️. This took a ridiculously long time for me to finish...HERE IT IS

Warnings: fluff, smut, and angst

Wanda takes another deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. Her hands are sweaty and she’s near panicking as she second-guesses her decision to take you here on a date. She knew how much you loved the artist that this particular club was spotlighting tonight, but now she was afraid that she’d been too over the top. This was your 8th date and the others had been fun, but not nearly as personalized as this one. Well you did take Wanda to one of her favorite spots in town and gotten her food from her favorite restaurant for a picnic. So personalized wasn’t exactly the right word. Wanda was just scared that she was coming on too strong with this one.

She knew that you liked her a lot given how much you two talked. She made time for you as much as possible during the day, and you did the same for her. You were understanding when she couldn’t see you at night, or if she had to change plans last minute. You tolerated a minimal amount of information about her work, but Wanda couldn’t help but fear that this wouldn't last long. She takes another deep breath before shaking her head with a groan. She was overthinking things. She just wanted you to have a good time tonight, and she knows that seeing you happy will make it all worth it.

“Wands?”

Your voice startles her out of her mini panic and she turns as you grab her hand with a smile. You’re a little worried because Wanda had seemed so relaxed when she’d picked you up for a date tonight. She was excited to surprise you and you’d found it adorable. However, as she pulled into the parking lot of a club you don’t recognize, she’d started to look tense and she hadn’t even turned the car off yet.

“Are you okay?”

When you squeeze her hand, she can’t help but smile and nod despite still being a little nervous. She confirms that she’d actually put the car in park before she turns it off and sighs again.

“Yes, sorry. I’m just a little nervous.”

You can’t help but smile at how cute this is because despite this being maybe your tenth date, Wanda was still anxious about it. You wondered what she had up her sleeve tonight because she wouldn’t tell you much more than that she wanted to take you some place nice. This was most of the time, but you knew that she meant something else, and when she’d insisted it was a surprise you got excited. Now you see that Wanda’s beginning to second guess herself so you do your best to reassure her that everything will be fine.

“Wands, you don’t have to be nervous. I’m sure I’ll love it here! After all, I’m getting to spend time with you, so it can’t be bad.”

Your smile widens as you notice one creep onto Wanda’s face, and you get unbuckled before shooting your girlfriend a curious look. She just nods before trying to get out of the car without taking off her seatbelt and you stifle a laugh as you do it for her so she can leave. She blushes but you don’t give her time to feel embarrassed as you come around to her side of the car. You take her arm with a smile and lead her to the doors of the club. You can faintly hear music through the walls, but you can’t tell what kind it is until Wanda opens the door for you. You smile gratefully and it widens as soon as you’re hit with the familiar tune.

“Oh, I love this song!”

Wanda feels her nerves start to fade when she sees how your face lights up at the song she’s only caught you listening to a dozen times. After being waved inside without having to pay you’re a little confused, but as you arrive to the main room of the club your jaw drops in surprise. The entire room is decorated in a way that made you feel like you were walking into the woods. It was done in a way that wasn’t typical for a place that ‘decorated’ for various events. The plants were mostly real from what you could tell, and everything was so well done that you almost immediately knew who had a hand in it.

You turn to Wanda who’s watching you carefully for your reaction to what she’d had planned for you. Well, the night in itself was the club’s idea. They had an artist themed night every month, but when she’d realized who was being featured this month, she jumped on the opportunity to make it even more memorable for you. She’d called them and then had to show up in person to prove that she wasn’t pranking them about wanting to help decorate the club for the night. It had just opened and they weren’t really able to spend that type of capital on something like decorations. Wanda had paid an obscene amount of money to make this happen, but seeing how enthralled you look, she realizes it was worth it.

“D-did you do this, Wands?”

When the music gets a little louder as the patrons who are already here start to literally move through the trees, you can’t help but smile widely. Wanda is blushing a little but she nods before mentioning why she’d gone to all of this trouble for you.

“Yeah, I thought you’d like to spend a night dancing to one of your favorites.”

Wanda barely finishes her sentence before you’re kissing her deeply. You don’t notice the crowd of people that flood in to join you, and you just hold Wanda closely as you try and comprehend what she’s said. Did she really bring you to a club where she’d paid an extraordinary amount of money to get them to commit to tonight’s theme? You were touched and if you weren’t so excited to enjoy the night, you’d just stand here and kiss Wanda all night.

“Wands, that’s so sweet. Thank you so much.”

The brunette smiles widely at you before she lets you lead her closer to where everyone else is dancing. The lights have been dimmed at this point to match the mood, but it’s light enough for Wanda to see your gleeful look.

When the song changes to another one of your favorites, and the lights switch to a dark purple you shoot Wanda a curious look. You squeeze her hand with an excited smile as you start to bounce up and down in anticipation.

“Did you happen to pick out some of the songs too?”

You knew that Wanda was an observant girlfriend, and it would be near impossible for her not to notice how much you listened to music. It was always playing in the background of your apartment when she came over, and she always asked about what you were listening to. She honestly didn’t have a lot of free time to listen to music, but a lot of what you listened to was older and she recognized most of it. However, she remembers the time that she walked into your apartment one night and this song had been playing. She’d certainly heard it before, but she didn’t know who sang it. You probably should have freaked out when your girlfriend admitted to not knowing who Stevie Nicks was, but instead you’d sat her down on the couch and introduced her to no fewer than your 6 favorite songs by her. It was this night that Wanda remembered when she heard about this club’s event tonight.

Wanda offers you a smirk and you barely let her finish speaking before you’re kissing it off her lips.

“Maybe.”

You and Wanda spend the next hour and a half dancing and enjoying getting to unwind together for the first time in a couple of weeks. You were still trying to process the fact that Wanda had gone to so much trouble for you, and done everything she could for tonight just to make you happy. You’re on cloud nine by the time the club is bathed in a light blue glow, and you sigh as you hold Wanda tighter. The song that comes on is one that you’d been listening to a lot lately, and you hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about why. As you stand in this club though surrounded by dozens of other people, all doing different things, the only person you really see is Wanda. You smile as the music echoes around you making you sigh happily.

Somewhere in the twilight dream time, somewhere in the back of your mind

“This is perfect, Wands. Thank you for doing all of this.”

Wanda’s smiling as she moves her hands down to your hips as yours sneak from her shoulders up to around her neck. You lean in to kiss the brunette deeply one hand sliding up to her cheek as you two continue to sway back forth to the music. Wanda’s nerves from earlier tonight have dissipated and she’s so close to feeling completely relaxed with you here despite the many strangers that surround them. Neither of you have had anything to drink, and Wanda’s made a decision to avoid alcohol tonight so she can be as clear minded as possible for your special night.

“Of course, detka. I’m glad you like it.”

As the song continues you lean in close to the brunette and rest your head on her shoulder with a sigh. You turn your face into her hair as she just holds you against her and you listen to words that you’ve played over and over in the past few weeks.

Never seen anything like you. If anyone falls in love…

You close your eyes and just breathe in the smell of Wanda’s shampoo as you try to commit this night to your memory. You’re beyond grateful to have found someone as thoughtful and loving as Wanda. The word hadn’t been said yet, but tonight is just another reminder to you that you are definitely falling in love with the woman holding you in her arms. Wanda’s thinking something similar as she holds you close until the song ends and quickly switches to the next. She’d be happy to just hold you like this for the rest of the night, but with the first notes of the new song you’re quickly standing up straight and near squealing in excitement.

“Oh, I love this one! This version is amazing.”

Wanda laughs at how cute you are and she is glad that she secretly looked through your phone to make sure she picked the right songs. She watches you start to dance as the song picks up, and she’d be happy to just watch you have fun, but instead you’re reaching back out for her to bring her closer to the rest of the crowd. You find yourself in the middle of some of the trees that Wanda had made sure would be planted somewhere after tonight, and you start to sing along.

Well would you stay if she promised to you heaven? Would you even try?

Wanda knew this song from the many times she’s heard you blasting it through your headphones while studying. She’d always try to get you to take them out and just play the music out loud so you don’t ruin your hearing. You’d appease her but still listen to it loudly enough that you still feel it rattle through your brain.

“Dance with me?”

Wanda couldn’t have said no even if she wanted to. The hopeful look on your face and the fact that you could barely contain your excitement as the song continues. She follows obediently and suddenly you’re in the middle of a crowd of people dancing and singing along. She barely hears any of the music, she zones out as she focuses on you as you dance through the next few songs. Wanda briefly looks around but her gaze falls back to you quickly because she can barely tear her eyes away from you. You look so beautiful and your bright smile makes Wanda’s stomach do flips.

A few songs later you realize how much time has passed since you got here. The club was full now and you were still having a great time, but the longer you held Wanda close to you, the more you wanted to get her alone. You were so happy with how tonight’s gone and you could tell Wanda was enjoying just watching you have fun, but you wanted something else from tonight. You check your watch again and realize it’s been over two hours since you got here. You don’t know if Wanda had anything else planned for tonight, not that this wasn’t plenty, but you figure you should ask before you tell her what’s on your mind.

“Are we going home after this?”

Wanda smiles at your question before she nods in confirmation. She hadn’t planned anything else for tonight since you’d already eaten dinner before coming here. She just hoped that this was enough for you. The sense of dread she feels is luckily fleeting as you smile widely at her before nodding toward the exit.

“Yes, detka. Whenever you want.”

You kiss your girlfriend as you take her hands from your hips to hold them in front of you with a smile. You hope she’s not offended by your increasing desire to leave, but when she just shoots you a smirk you realize she’s as excited as you are.

“Well tonight’s been one of the best I’ve ever had, but I would really like to get you home now.”

Wanda hides her blush with a smile and she nods before allowing you to lead her to the exit. Wanda shoots the bouncer a look as they leave that she hopes translates to ‘I’ll be in touch’ before walking out into the cool night air with you.

“This really was amazing, Wands.”

You hold Wanda’s arm tightly as you walk across the parking lot to her car with a wide, dopey smile on your face. Wanda turns and smiles at the sight before she opens the passenger door for you. She reminders herself that she needs to drive the speed limit because with her luck she’d get a ticket if she tried to get you two back to your place quickly.

“I’m glad you liked it. You deserved something special.”

Wanda says this as she gets settled in her own seat and you quickly grab her hand before kissing it. She starts the car and quickly gets you on the road as she considers what the rest of the night will hold.

“You are special, Wands, and I’m so lucky to have you.”

The rest of the ride back to your apartment is made in relative silence. You don’t even bother turning on music because the lyrics of all of the songs you’ve heard tonight are still playing in your head. You unlock your apartment door before holding it open for Wanda to go in first. You lock it behind her before sighing happily now that you’re home. Now that you’re away from the club you feel your adrenaline fading, but you still smile as you lead Wanda toward the living room.

“Do you want to watch something?”

Wanda nods and you both sit down on the couch with matching smiles to watch something you already know you won’t pay much attention to. You’re distracted by your desire to be near your beautiful, considerate girlfriend. You let her chose the show and you don’t hesitate to snuggle up beside Wanda as soon as she’s settled. When she leans against you, she wraps an arm around you before basically pulling you into her lap. You yelp in surprise but you don’t protest your new seat as you lean in to kiss Wanda’s cheek. Her arms wrap around you to hold you close as she sighs happily and kisses your temple.

“I love spending time with you, detka.”

Your face is starting to ache from how much you’ve been smiling tonight, but you wouldn’t change anything about it. You’re thinking about how you wholeheartedly agree with Wanda. Since you met her, you felt like you finally had something to occupy your mind other than school. You didn’t realize that you missed having a close relationship with someone, and you’re thankful every day that you ran into that door and attracted Wanda’s attention. You didn’t know you could enjoy someone’s company so much until Wanda came into your life, and the thought of her not being in your life long-term makes you frown. You aren’t ready to say it, but you know that you’re in this for as long as Wanda will have you.

“I hope you know…you’re the only person whose company I could never get sick of.”

Wanda laughs at this despite it being the highest compliment possible coming from an introvert. She lets you spin in her hold until you’re face to face, and she’s smiling by the time that you lean in to kiss her. It starts out chaste but it quickly becomes heated as you two get lost in the feeling of being close like this. You’re a little tired from the time you spent dancing at the club, but you feel your body start to buzz excitedly as Wanda’s hands drift to your hips.

You groan under your breath and sneak your arms around Wanda’s neck to pull her closer. You feel your heart start to race once she’s flush against you, and you shift in her lap. Wanda’s breath hitches and her hold on you tightens before she forces herself to pull away from you.

She wants nothing more than to take you to your bedroom and have you in any way you let her, but she can’t. Not yet. She wants to make sure that you know how much you mean to her. You’ve been together for a while and despite getting to this point before, you always stop once someone ends up on the other’s lap, tonight she wants to go farther. She could tell that you do as well, but something in her made her feel obliged to tell you that you didn’t have to.

You frown when Wanda pulls away, and you’re about to complain when you see her expression. She seems nervous which you understand and can share the sentiment, but you realize you’re wrong about why once Wanda speaks up.

“We don’t have to do this tonight, Y/n.”

Your frown deepens as you consider why Wanda would say this. Does she not want to have sex with you? No. That can’t be right. The looks she’s shot you up until now told you that she definitely did. Was she just getting cold feet? Your obvious confusion is enough for Wanda to realize she needs to elaborate, and she clears her throat before dropping her hands from your hips to her sides.

“I just mean I don’t want you to feel obligated. I-um, I didn’t do all of this tonight just to get you in bed.”

Realization makes your frown disappear and you smile softly as you reach out for Wanda’s hands that are fidgeting from the brunette’s nerves. You wait until Wanda meets your gaze and you lean in to kiss her chastely before you shake your head.

“The thought never crossed my mind, Wands. You’re far too sweet.”

Wanda’s not sure if she’d ever use that word to describe herself. Given what she did day in and day out for work, she didn’t feel like she was a sweet person. She could be cruel and cold when she needed to be, but never with you. You were different. Her relationship with you was different, and Wanda thought of you as her saving grace. You gave her a life outside of her work, and she was finally able to see what she had been missing for years.

Wanda looks away embarrassed by your words, but you simply reach out to turn her back toward you with a kind smile. Despite how much you’d like to do otherwise, you want to give Wanda the opportunity to opt out. As she’d done for you.

“If you don’t want to do this, just say the word. We can do anything else.”

Wanda is quick to shake her head, and you have to stop your smile from widening at her enthusiasm. You shift again so you're more comfortable, and her grip tightens on your hips once again.

“No, I do. I-I’ve wanted to for a while.”

Wanda’s cheeks flush at her words and you can’t help but find it adorable. You groan under your breath before you lean in to kiss Wanda’s hair. You take a deep breath and try to figure out what to do now that you both have expressed your desire to go further. Your clothes suddenly feel tight and an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach makes you sit up.

“Me too. Do you want to take this somewhere else?”

Wanda watches as you stand up and she takes a couple of seconds to just admire how beautiful you look before she’s nodding in agreement. She stands up and takes your offered hand before following your lead. She can’t help but think about how sweaty her hand is in yours, but you don’t give it another thought as you drag Wanda through your bedroom door before shutting it behind her.

It’s dark and you only consider turning on the lights for a few seconds before you lead Wanda to your bed. You’re a little nervous about this and you’d rather Wanda not see it as you pull her toward you. As your eyes adjust to the darkness you kiss Wanda’s cheek before finding her lips with a sigh. Your hands go to her shoulders to push the jacket she’s wearing off and onto the floor. She realizes that if you go further you might feel where her gun is hidden on her, so she reaches out to gently push you onto the bed. You don’t think much of it even as you hear something click and fall to the ground because Wanda’s keeping you distracted. She kisses you one last time before she squeezes your hips and shoots you a look you probably can’t see.

“Can I take this off?”

You feel her tugging on the hem of your shirt, and you just smile before nodding in response. Your nerves are starting to make you fidget, but Wanda doesn’t notice as she hesitates to undress you. She can feel her own anticipation telling her to get right to it, but her desire to take her time and treat you right forces her to slow down. She leans in to kiss your heated cheek before speaking up.

“I can’t really see you, detka, so I need you to use your words, okay?”

You feel your face flush further at her request, but you’re nodding quickly before forcing yourself to speak. You cringe at how on edge you sound, and Wanda unfortunately doesn’t miss this.

“O-okay.”

Wanda frowns slightly and she drops her hands onto the bed so she can take a deep breath and give you a second to focus on her. She considers turning on a light so she can see your face, but then she couldn’t just turn it off after without it seeming strange. She decides to do her best to keep you comfortable as she tries to get the green light to go ahead.

“Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want, Y/n. If you want to stop, just say so.”

You feel your heart stutter in your chest at Wanda’s words, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out for her. Your hands cup her cheeks and you pull her toward you. You kiss her once before taking a moment to admire your beautiful girlfriend. This close to you, you can see her bright eyes watching you as you smile lovingly at her. You said it earlier, but you truly do believe that Wanda is such a sweetheart. She’s so thoughtful and she treats you so much better than anyone else you’d dated.

“I will, I promise.”

You shift on the bed so you’re closer to the middle, but you keep your hands on Wanda as you shoot her a challenging look.

“Will you come over here, please?”

Wanda doesn’t hesitate to follow you and she’s kissing you again as you lean back and bring her with you. When you’d thought about your bed earlier tonight, you’d been certain that you would pass out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Now that you’re here though, and you have Wanda’s weight on top of you, the last thing you want to do is sleep. Your hands fall to Wanda’s hips as you shift her so she’s straddling you. You smile when you feel her groan as your hands slide down her thighs. You’ve been this close before. You cuddle all the time whether it’s on the couch watching tv, or in bed during one of your rare sleepovers.

You always have to stop yourself from taking liberties and feeling the brunette’s toned stomach that you’ve only had the privilege of sleeping on a couple of times. Now, though, you have to slow yourself down so you don’t overwhelm her with your need to feel every part of her. You sigh as push away your inner teenage boy and stop your hands before they’re under her dress.

“Can this come off?”

When she tells you yes, you’re quick to remove her dress and you let her take your shirt off as well. You’re left in your bra and the shorts that you’d been too lazy to remove. You still Wanda against your hips and you hold back a groan when her breath hitches and her legs tense. The thought of what you’d like to do to her makes you groan against her skin as you kiss her shoulder. She releases a breathy sigh and her head falls back as she rocks her hips against you. She’d like for you to get on with it, but your time together has taught her that you are a huge tease.

She’s still always surprised by the fact that you can be so shy and uncertain one minute, and crazy confident the next. She’s seen you get more comfortable with her over the months you’ve spent together, and she honestly should have guessed that you’d be confident here and now. She doesn’t think about how many people you’ve slept with because that doesn’t matter to her right now. She only cares about what you’re going to do now that you have her almost completely naked on top of you.

“I’d really like to touch you now, Wands. Is that okay?”

Wanda nods quickly and she mutters a ‘yes, please’ under her breath that makes you smile. You have plenty of ideas of what you’d like to do, but you want Wanda to enjoy this as much as possible. You want to make your first time together as special as possible.

“What do you want, Wands?”

She’s breathing heavily as she takes a moment to still herself on top of your hips so she can answer you. You smile when she tells you what she wants you to do, and you gently roll her onto her back so you can get her in position.

You had thought a lot about how this night would go. You were afraid that you would do something wrong, or that Wanda would ask you to do something that you weren’t comfortable with. You hadn’t expected that you’d get to do exactly what you wanted. You’d only dreamt of spending hours learning Wanda’s body, what she liked and what she loved, but you hadn’t dared to hope that you would get the chance to do this on your first night together.

When Wanda’s exhausted and trying to catch her breath, she realizes that all of the attention has been on her. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t love it, but she was dying for a chance to get to touch you. The only problem was that she couldn’t get her body to cooperate. She moans as your hand falls to her stomach and then lower before she forces herself to turn toward you. She buries her face in your neck before shaking her head with a groan.

“No more, I can’t.”

You pout but you don’t hesitate to drop your hand back to your side. Your body is still buzzing with unspent energy, but you are just going to have to sleep it off since Wanda’s done. You suppose you went a little overboard, and you nearly cringe as you look at the time. It’s 3 in the morning and you’re very lucky that it’s the weekend. You look back to Wanda who’s started to shift beside you, and you wrap an arm around her with a frown.

“Are you okay?”

The quiet concern she hears in your voice makes her smile, and it gives her the energy she needs to sit up on her elbows. She pushes her hair out of her face before leaning in to kiss you deeply. Your lips are swollen and a little numb at this point, but you don’t hesitate to kiss Wanda back as she starts to shift so one of her legs is slotted between yours.

She breaks away from your lips just long enough to shoot you a knowing look. She can feel her exhaustion start to take a back seat to the excitement of getting to taste the arousal she can feel against her leg.

“You haven’t come yet.”

You shake your head before opening your mouth to deny this because you actually had. Earlier when Wanda had been riding your fingers on your lap, you’d come only a few moments after her. You plan on telling her this, but she cuts you off when she presses her knee between your legs causing you to jump in surprise. You bite your lip to stop from moaning and Wanda just reaches out to free it before kissing your chin and then cheek. You find your voice, barely and try to shake your head before clearing your throat.

“It’s okay, Wands. I-.”

You hiss under your breath when Wanda bites your ear which shuts you up pretty quickly. She runs her hands down your neck before they stop on your shoulders to pin you down. That said, you’re sure the look that she shoots you would be enough to do that.

“Will you let me change that? I really want to taste you.”

You’ll look back on this moment years from now and cite it as the first time that you realize that you’re a total goner for this woman. You would give her anything she asks, and yes you would probably commit a crime if she wanted you to. You moan when Wanda immediately meets your lips in another kiss as her hands begin to wander more insistently. As soon as you feel her fingers at your inner thigh, you realize that you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

Wanda’s somehow still awake at 7am, but you’d fallen asleep about an hour ago and she decided to let you sleep. The sun would be coming up soon and now that she’s showered and started on the coffee that she’s certain you’ll both need she’s spent some time reflecting on how last night (and this morning) had gone.

She’d been relieved when you walked into the club and immediately smiled widely at the sight . When you’d thanked her for giving her a very special night, she felt a weight lift off her shoulder, and she was practically floating by the time you arrived back at your place.

She’d spent almost $20,000 last night to make sure that you would have a good time, and she can honestly say that it was money well spent. She’d admitted to herself weeks ago that she was falling in love with you, but she wasn’t going to tell you that first, if at all. She was too worried about her job scaring you away as soon as she was forced to tell you about it, so she wouldn’t risk heartbreak by telling you her feelings. It was probably silly, but she couldn’t help it.

Last night had been an attempt to show you how much she loved you without having to say it. She’s not sure if you got the message, but then last night you’d spent hours pleasing her before you let her reciprocate. She had seen how eager you’d been, and how much you’d liked touching her, and she just hoped that it was because you felt the same.

She sipped her coffee with a sigh as she took a moment to try and relax. The room still smells like sex and Wanda thinks about going to the living room, but she wants you to see her when you wake up. She looks to where you’re hugging your pillow and she can’t help but smile at the sight. You’re tuckered out, but that doesn’t stop you from holding something in your arms. She learned fairly quickly that you could only sleep soundly if you were hugging something. It was adorable, as was the blush she caused when she brought this up to you one time. She finishes her coffee before she dares to look at her phone.

She’d told her brother that she would be busy this weekend and wouldn’t be available for work. Of course he’d asked what she would be doing, but she gave him some bullshit answer that kept her secret for another weekend. She felt guilty about hiding your existence from most of her family. She just didn’t want things to get complicated before she was ready. She was sure that this was going to bite her in the ass, but for now she just wanted to enjoy her time with you.

“Ugh, what time is it?”

Wanda’s surprised to hear your voice, but she still smiles at you before reaching out to fix your mussed hair.

“A little after 7.”

You groan loudly in response before you burrow further under the covers and into your pillow. Wanda just laughs in amusement before she offers to get you some coffee. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you slept more, but instead you stretch before stifling a yawn.

“Do you want some coffee?”

That’s what the smell was. When you first woke up your senses were filled with the smells of your pillow which were a mix of sweat, your shampoo, and the expensive dryer beads that you’d splurged on last month. You had wanted to stay asleep with your face hidden in this pillow until you remembered how you’d spent your night.

You were still a little surprised that last night had gone the way it did. You’d half expected to wake up to an empty bed, and empty apartment only to realize that you’d had a very vivid dream. You’re glad to see Wanda drinking coffee when you crack an eye open, and you smile despite the fact your exhausted body is demanding sleep.

“Maybe later. How long have you been up?”

You are slow to sit up and you stifle a groan at your sore muscles before deciding that you might need to take something. You’re so sore it’s a little embarrassing.

Wanda shrugs as she mentions that she’d just been up for an hour or so. She made some coffee before coming back here and showering and then getting more coffee. She didn’t mention how she’d retrieved her gun and hidden it in her bag so you wouldn’t see it, or how she’d checked in with Steve to make sure that nothing had come up while she was gone. She hoped that you wanted to spend most of the day in your apartment because the simple walk to the kitchen had caused Wanda’s sore muscles to protest.

“Just long enough to shower and make some coffee.”

You hum in acknowledgement as you move a little closer to Wanda and confirm that she smells like your shampoo. You lean against her a little before deciding that you can spend the rest of the day in this bed with her. Just so long as you get to shower too, and some food, and clean sheets. Okay so maybe you’ll just hang out in the apartment all day.

“Hmm I can tell, you smell nice.”

Wanda laughs at this and you just curl into her side with a yawn as you close your eyes. You smile as an arm wraps around your waist to pull you closer.

“I still can’t believe you did all of that for me last night. My favorite date by far.”

Wanda can’t stop herself from smiling proudly at this. She’s glad you had a good time, and she hopes that the night would be a memorable one. She blushes slightly at the thought that it definitely was, and you’re looking right at her, so you don’t miss it.

“I’m glad you had fun, detka. I could get used to spoiling you.”

You smile widely at the thought before you kiss your girlfriend’s cheek as you squeeze her hand. You definitely could get used to being spoiled, but you honestly hadn’t had a bad date with Wanda yet. Even when that drive in movie had been rained out, you’d just ended up sitting in your car talking and cuddling for hours. It was perfect and you realized then and there you could be happy with Wanda anywhere. You just needed her.

This thought overwhelms you a bit and you don’t realize you’re crying until Wanda shifts and shoots you a concerned look.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

You wipe away your tears with a frustrated sigh before nodding unconvincingly. You’re embarrassed and you look away from Wanda and toward the curtains that were still drawn but letting the early morning sun peek through.

“Sorry I’m fine I just—no one’s ever treated me as well as you do, and it’s a little overwhelming.”

You pause as you think back to last night and how demanding you’d been, and you immediately felt guilty about not being nearly as considerate as your girlfriend.

“I’m sorry if I went to far, or made you uncomfortable last night. I just…”

You trail off because you’re not going to admit how long you’ve wanted to sleep with Wanda so early in the morning. You are grateful when she speaks up quicky, but you miss the confused and slightly concerned look she gives you as she reaches out for you.

“Hey, detka. Can you look at me, please?”

You do so immediately and you feel even more guilty when you see how worried Wanda looks. You shift uncomfortably but manage to hold her gaze as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I wanted everything that happened last night, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She offers you a smirk and you’re quickly blushing when she adds something that sends your mind reeling back to the wee hours where you’d been mostly driven by your lust.

“In fact, you did everything right. It was the best night I’ve ever had.”

You try to hide your smile by looking down at your joined hands in Wanda’s lap. You’re so happy that Wanda feels this way because every other one of your first times had been somewhat awkward. If you weren’t drunk during it, you didn’t have a great time, or it was only a one-night stand which always left you feeling lonely afterward.

“I’m glad, Wands. I’m hoping to have many more nights…well not exactly like that, but with you. That’s all I really want.”

When Wanda just smiles before kissing you chastely you feel overwhelmed by your feelings again. You don’t cry this time, but you smile widely as you wonder how long this happy feeling will last. Wanda’s thoughts are similar as she tries not to think about her time with you ending. She can’t remember the last time she’s been this happy, and she just hopes that it lasts forever.

“Right back at you, detka.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #silver spring au drabble #silver springs #silver springs drabble #mob au

196 notes · View notes