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#no more nonsensical ramblings from me for today

zeroducks-2 · 11 months

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Oh and by the way, Jaytim is not a relationship with an age gap. They're like 2-3 years apart for fucks sake THAT IS NOT AN AGE GAP WORTH MENTIONING IN THE TAGS.

#ALSO BRUCEBABS IS NOT INCEST I'M GOING TO SCREAM #stop giving nonsensical labels to random ships challenge fucking impossible #I had really bad news today I should just log off and fuck off but I can't do anything/go anywhere from this shitty bnb #so here's more me getting pissed at things yay #ramblings

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always-a-joyful-note · 2 years

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Oh...

I just realised that (I think) the blank notebook everyone sees when Dokja reads Ways of Survival on His smartphone....

I think it's supposed to represent both how Dokja is a reader, how WoS is his comfort story and salvation when he's in turmoil, but also how he's a writer. Because in this novel-turned-reality, he is the writer who will fill that blank notebook. He sees his story because to himself, he is a reader...but others see a blank notebook because he is the writer who will create the story ahead.

#at least i think so FAR #even if im spitting nonsense i cant help but be destroyed by that #i didnt even explain it well but like....the way a story is both a blank canvas and a world all on its own?#like how people today write fanfic off novels or how people of old recreated and retold/adapted myths and legends #we KNOW the story...and we love the story #but at the same time we can write something new from it #argh how do i explain it?? anyway i just love adaptations of old work that are so clearly filled with love for the og #and in some ways that's what dokja is doing #(this is my overthought opinion just to clarify....and yes im letting it affect me more than it should)#*goes to a corner to feel emotions*#fandom spamdom #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #note's nonsense #excuse me rambling in the tags #orv spoilers

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jaysgirlx · 2 months

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"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"

"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"

Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.

"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"

"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"

"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"

"Buy a book or get out Jason"

You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"

Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.

Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.

Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"

"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"

"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"

It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"

"It's good he does, I like guys who read"

"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"

"Oh shut up Dick"

Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"

"Who told you about that?!"

"…Dick"

When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.

"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"

You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.

The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.

"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"

"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "

"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"

"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"

"You are soooooooooo in love me"

"Jay, get out"

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yandere-sins · 6 months

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Today, I was thinking about Kar'niss the drider, who—mad and confused—stumbles over a nearly dead darling in the Shadowlands.

You're already as good as gone, life sapped out of you mercilessly by the shadows gnawing at you. They burn your skin and dig into your very soul while strangling you slowly, agonizingly to death, trying to take over your body and make you into one of the lifeless puppets wandering around unprotected. It's your own fault for getting into this mess, yet you prayed and wished for nothing more than to be released from the torture.

Perhaps that's why it's so surprising when instead of eternal, restless death, your body is enveloped in a gentle light, bright and freeing you of the shadows that quickly retreat. You gasp and wheeze as you jolt back to life, coughing and contorting until you finally get your own mind back.

It hurts to look, yet you cannot help but stare into the blinding light, trying to determine where it's coming from. Only now can you make out faint noises coming from it, the shadows having wrecked your hearing badly enough so that you didn't notice it before. Metal clanking and a voice. It almost makes you believe in a god again, as you mistake the light to be talking to you.

Imagine the shock, the ice-cold shiver that runs through you when your eyes finally adjust. When the real monster behind the voice comes into the light, mumbling and yelling nonsensical phrases about 'feeding the shadows' and 'her majesty's will'. Half of its body resembles a man, the other half is spider through and through. His skin seems more leathery and armored, and his fingertips are contorted into claws. What you thought were dark jewels adorning his face turn out to be eyes, and you choke on a scream as they blink, their focus suddenly shifts entirely on you.

"Who are you? What are you doing, feeding the shadows?! It's not right, it's not...! Ah, yes, your majesty! Your light guides us, protects us. We are eternally grateful!"

As if almost dying and being rescued by a drider isn't bad enough, madness seems to be dripping off of him the moment he notices you through his hazy mind. You can tell that there is no reasoning with your savior, no last bit of sanity to appeal to, your instincts tell you. He leans down, and you cower, trying to get away. But the moment you leave the lantern's glow, you feel the shadows reaching for you again. You have no idea what's going on as the drider makes another step forward, the light enveloping you again, but you start to listen to his rambles, the way he calls out to some queen, reverently so.

And your blood runs cold when, in his mumbles, you hear him call you a gift.

"My queen, are you giving them to me? Is this my reward? I will not complain about this most generous gift, majesty!"

Your arm is caught by him quicker than you can get away, though his grip only tightens when you struggle, his skin feeling wrong against yours. Appalling. But when you stop thrashing like a fly caught in a spiderweb, he gently pulls you to a stand, waiting for you to regain your strength before he starts walking, tugging you with him. The shadows want to reach for you, pull you back, and you fearfully step closer to the drider, making him chuckle.

There's nothing you can do, his grip on you firm and the shadows being the only alternative to walking with him. He keeps blubbering and laughing about his thoughts, conversing with someone you can't see but who he seems to revere. But at the same time, you feel at least one pair of eyes fixating on you in every moment of your journey, even if you don't know which one is looking. Everything about him is freaking you out, but when you reach a massive building with people walking around, you can't help but feel thankful to the drider for bringing you back to civilization.

That is, until someone tries to talk to you. He does not like that.

Letting go of your arm, he snatches you by your waist instead, your feet dangling above the ground while you feel the air being forced out of your lungs from the pressure he puts you against his chest with. It's all so unnatural, and you can't help but struggle in fear when, suddenly, his bellowing voice makes you freeze.

"NO! This is my gift! Our Queen has gifted them to me! They are not for you to take! You are not worthy!"

And just like that, after baring his fangs and driving away the people you thought were going to help you, his anger disappears almost immediately as he cradles you, cooing much softer words in your direction than to the others. "It's alright, sweet gift. They'll not take you from me. We'll be together, as has our Queen decided."

With that, you feel like your body is flying through the air, clutched against him, as his many legs are swiftly put into motion. When you force yourself to look over his shoulder, you are already far up in the air, watching the ground distance itself more and more. All you can do is cling onto him in fear of falling to your death, and he breathes you in deeply before you two reach the top, his lips contorted into a smile when you finally meet his eyes again.

"Mine, all mine. My sweet little gift."

NSFW-ish below

I'd like to think he has taken one of the free towers that are more or less empty and spun a pretty web for his darling inside. Kar'niss takes care of you, rarely letting you outside (only if you convinced him over the span of days that you'd so like to take a stroll with him) because he really doesn't want anyone else to see, touch, or talk to what is his, even when he needs to go and guide souls to the tower. You will probably go as insane as he is, listening to his rambling and trying to appease him when you accidentally say something to send him into a fit of rage.

There are so many ways to punish you, too. Simply leaving you in the darkness after your almost death reverts you into a crying, sobbing mess that Kar'niss will love to soothe you, dedicating himself to cuddling and cradling you in his arms and lolling around in the web with you while he tells you he and the grace of her majesty are always with you.

He's also just painful to be around, especially when he's so irrational, and you cannot move out of the way of his fangs, claws, and legs. Everything about him feels strange, giving you no comfort, but he can hurt you so easily it makes you paranoid. When you ask him to, or he's currently obsessing over you, his touch can be gentle, and Kar'niss has proven his soft caresses to you many times. But if a leg or his hands accidentally swipes you, you bleed. It's just how things are.

Also, suppose you displease him by speaking against his queen or setting him off by denying him the pleasure of being with you. In that case, he'll just stop caring for you, sitting outside the tower where he keeps you, and sulks. (The Absolute is probably telling him to go back, so he's also bickering a bit with her. Kind of an impressive achievement on your side.) He listens to you and waits until you start begging and pleading for him (or anyone) to come back and help you, to not leave you there to rot like this. Yet, Kar'niss makes you suffer for a while longer to punish you while ensuring no one comes near you.

But it does excite him when he goes back, and you cry and call to him and apologize for what you did, swearing you won't do it again. Excites him a lot. You do love him too, don't you? Of course you do... his queen would not have given you to him if that wasn't the case. You are meant for each other, after all. So he can forgive you this time.

Once he realizes you're in need of a parasite, he'll probably start connecting his disturbed mind with yours, giving you severe brain damage as you are flooded with his thoughts. But it'll finally give him the chance to show you exactly what he wants. Force you to believe in the Absolute like him by torturing you with his devotion and admiration until you break. Now, you'll finally understand your purpose as his mate, too. Accept him. Share his love for you and his majesty.

And since he has a new deity talking to him that isn't Lolth, who knows he cannot have children, Kar'niss might be convinced that he's supposed to make babies for the Absolute. He can't, technically (and maybe you can't either), but that doesn't stop him from talking about how he'll give his majesty new worshippers and how the two of you will be so worthy of her and have Absolute-babies. Kar'niss gets so excited at the idea of you being full and round from his offspring he almost drools, unable to wait any longer once the seed has been planted in his shattered mind.

So all you can do is ask him nicely to prepare you, to make sure he doesn't rip something or is gentle with those sharp claws and teeth no matter how eager he is. Just imagine how happy he'd be when you tell him that you could possibly be pregnant after all the orgasms he gave you—a lie, but you just really need him to stop. He'll be enraged if he finds out that you are not, but hey, he can always try again. And maybe someone will come to help him with his plan. Maybe Araj Oblodra could be convinced to offer a child or spider eggs to quench the Drider's baby frenzy, or the Absolute will give him a child like she gave him a darling.

Either way, until he dies, you're not getting out of this. And even then, someone would have to find you first and rescue you.

If they don't deem you too far gone already.

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angelwonie · 2 years

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HIS SMILE || kim mingyu

PAIRING: mingyu x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 20.5k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au

SUMMARY: falling in love with your fake boyfriend isn't a good idea, and it's even worse if that fake boyfriend happens to be Kim Mingyu. but you just can't help it — he's got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, size kink(!), overstimulation, fingering, manhandling, light dumbification] mingyu is strong...

“Oh, poor Y/N, you probably still haven't gotten yourself a boyfriend, have you?”

You can feel yourself tensing up at the words said by your colleague, Karina, her lips formed in a smile that completely contradicts the way she just spoke to you. She's acting as if it's just an innocent question, something she asked because she's genuinely curious – though you both know she said it to humiliate you, or maybe just to make you envy her for getting a loving boyfriend before you did. Either way, she's really getting on your nerves, and from what you can glimpse to the left, your best friend isn't very amused, either.

“No, of course she hasn't. With all the college work, I doubt she has the time,” One of your other colleagues defends you, sensing the tense atmosphere, and you send her a thankful smile.

“Right,” Karina says, a hint of amusement that very much pisses you off visible in her eyes. Her smile is so fake, it makes you want to throw up. “I’m glad I have my boyfriend, though, he's so lovely. Last night, when I came home, he'd prepared me homemade dinner and–”

You're growing more and more annoyed by the second when suddenly, Karina's monologue is cut off by your best friend's voice. And that relief that washes over you when Karina stops talking is wiped away the moment you hear what your friend has to say.

“Y/N does have a boyfriend, actually.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. What did she just say? Did you hear her right? Judging by your friends’ mouths that are hanging open, you probably did. And you surely look just as confused as them, because in all honesty, you do not have a boyfriend and one look in your best friend’s direction tells you she's already regretting her not thought-through actions.

“What?” Karina asks finally, this time her tone much more unamused. Is her voice quivering? “You’re joking, right?”

One look at her scandalized expression is enough to make you realize that you can't back out now. Not if you don't want to see her condescending smile every day for the next twenty years. So just grin at them, sending your best friend a sideways glare as she starts rambling about your nonexistent boyfriend.

“Oh, we're not joking,” She assures them, and it takes all of your willpower to stop yourself from hitting her right then and there. “He’s handsome as hell and so kind. Oh, and he's really, really tall.”

“Oh my god, show us a picture, Y/N!” One of your colleagues exclaims and you're suddenly very aware that all of their attention is on you.

“A– A picture?” You look at your friend frantically, but apparently, this is the extent of her helpfulness, because she's looking everywhere but at you. Traitorous bitch. Why’d she spew so much nonsense if she isn't even going to take responsibility for it? “Right, let me find one real quick.”

This is bad. Really bad. And what makes it even worse, is that today, of all days, when you open your phone with trembling hands, the last picture in your camera roll isn’t a photo of you with any of your close friends like it usually is. It could’ve been Soonyoung or even Wonwoo, and just like that, you could’ve introduced one of them as your super handsome boyfriend. But no, fate clearly isn’t on your side today.

No, today, of all days, the last picture in your camera roll is of you and the one and only Kim Mingyu – a guy known on campus for both his looks and his outgoing personality. He's got all the girls swooning over him, and until recently, you've been all but silently admiring him when you're in school – letting your eyes fan over his frame when he plays soccer or resting your gaze on him for a little too long during an otherwise boring lecture. You finally got the chance to talk to him for the first time no earlier than yesterday, but only after making sure there’s enough alcohol in your system to flirt with him shamelessly.

“Maybe you should give me your number,” You’d said as you were getting ready to leave, batting your eyelashes up at him. “You know, just so I don’t forget who to call when I need someone to change a lightbulb in my apartment.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?” He’d asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement and handing you your phone back, this time with his number in it.

“Of course I am,” You responded, mimicking his facial expression. “We should take a picture together, too.”

“Why? So you won’t forget my face?”

You smiled at his playful tone – or maybe simply at the sound of his voice. “No. So that you won’t forget mine.”

He chuckled – a sound you still haven’t forgotten even though you were drunk as hell when hearing it – and let you click a few photos, putting his arm around your shoulder as if he really was your boyfriend. And then, when you were looking through the pictures, you felt his eyes on you again – this time different from when you were talking earlier, more intense somehow. Meeting that gaze of his, you were almost worried your knees would give out from underneath you, but someway, you managed to stand on your feet long enough for you to see his lips forming into a small, yet sincere smile and for his arm to leave your shoulder, instead caressing your cheek.

For a moment, you were certain he was going to kiss you – with the way he was leaning forwards slowly, stroking your skin and making your heart beat faster than ever before. And just when you thought he was going to connect his lips to yours, he placed them dangerously close to your jaw instead, his voice low and distracting in your ear.

“I wouldn’t be able to forget such a pretty face even if I wanted to, sweetheart.”

Blame it on the alcohol, but his words quite literally made you go insane and you went home with a giddy smile on your face, happy with how things were going. Now, though, you're putting all of that at risk.

Honestly, it's kind of your own fault. If you hadn’t decided to have a photoshoot with him while in your drunken state, you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation, with your phone clutched tightly in your hand, ah’s and oh’s leaving the mouths of your so-called friends as they look at the picture you’re showing them. A picture of you and Kim Mingyu, someone who is definitely not your boyfriend.

“Your boyfriend’s really handsome, Y/N, I’m so jealous!”

Oh, God. This is truly the worst possible outcome of this whole situation, isn’t it? How does one go from finally piquing a handsome guy’s interest to lying about being in a relationship with him in less than 24 hours?

“Oh, and by the way, Y/N, me and Karina are planning to go to her boyfriend’s soccer game this weekend. You and your boyfriend should come, too.”

You're thrown off guard by your colleague's question – they've never really invited you to things like that before. Guess you're much more interesting now that you have a tall, kind and handsome boyfriend. Correction: now that you're pretending to have a tall, kind and handsome boyfriend. Your friend is looking at you like she wants you to say no – even she is well aware that you're in a screwed-up position right now – but if you tell them you can't make it, you know that you'll be giving Karina exactly what she wants. And there's no way you're going to let her find out about this lie.

“Oh my god, really? We’d love to,” You say, mustering up a smile that turns real when you see the way Karina’s jaw is clenching.

“See you on Saturday, then.”

—

Okay, so it did feel amazing to see the look on Karina’s face when you told her you have a boyfriend, but you didn’t exactly think it through when you agreed to bring him to the soccer game on Saturday. Because that means that now, you can’t keep this a secret from Mingyu anymore – you have to ask him to get involved. Which is why already an hour after you leave the cafe with your colleagues, you’re calling Kim Mingyu, asking him if he has ten minutes to spare.

“It’s urgent,” You practically beg him on the phone.

“You missed me that much?” You can almost hear the smirk that’s planted onto his face, and it makes your heart skip a beat in your chest. Only once, though, before you realize you’re probably going to lose all chances of dating him soon enough. “Alright, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

And so here you are – sitting by a small table outside of a cafe, right across from Kim Mingyu. You're kind of just staring at him, stalling, because you're not sure how to tell him why you asked him to come. To your defense, it is a little embarrassing that you're here to ask him to be your fake boyfriend for a day. Much to your surprise, he's not saying anything, either, his eyes on you as you sit in silence. You can't really tell from his gaze whether he's amused or annoyed, but when the waiter brings you your drinks and you hand him his coffee, there is a small smile tugging at his lips and he tilts his head to the side. He's probably expecting you to speak now.

So you clear your throat and open your mouth, ready to tell him everything. Only you never get that far, because suddenly he's the one speaking.

“You’re different today.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded.

“You’re different than yesterday,” He says, smiling softly – as if more to himself than to you. “More nervous.”

Yeah, that's because there's no alcohol in my system, and you're ridiculously handsome, dumbass, you want to say.

“I’m not nervous,” You say instead.

“Really? You look nervous,” He grins wider, pointing at the way you're fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Hearing him point it out, you stop immediately. Seeing your reaction, he adds: “Don’t worry, it's cute.”

And a wink. He’s winking at you. You hate him. So much. You hate him, and his stupid flirting, and his stupid smile, because right now, you're trying to ask him for a favour, and here he is, making you feel like there are thousands of butterflies swarming in your stomach. And you can't even look him in the eye, because you're sure that if you did, he would be able to see right through you and how you feel like you're about to faint. But then again, you can’t exactly blame him when you’re the one who told everyone he was your boyfriend.

“Um, okay, so either way,” You start, voice already trembling. “What I wanted to say is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to a soccer game with me this weekend.”

As expected, Mingyu’s initial reaction is a very shocked ‘can you repeat that, please?’ and when you do, he raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something. But you don’t let him, because you’re already utterly embarrassed and you just want to get this over with as fast as possible. So you let the words stream out of your mouth, and you explain everything – from how annoying Karina is to how truly sorry you are for dragging him into this whole mess.

“And I’m really, really sorry, but it’s just like I can’t tell them it was a lie, because they’ll totally-”

You’re babbling and babbling, looking everywhere but Mingyu’s eyes as he interrupts you.

“Okay.”

Your head tilts upwards to look at him instinctively and you’re met with the sight of him resting his chin on his hand, his pearly teeth on display as he grins. “What?”

“Okay, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“You’ll…”

“I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend so that your friends won’t find out you lied,” He repeats, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before he leans closer to you over the table – an act that makes you pull back with heat rising to your cheeks. “But only on one condition. You have to pay for my meals for as long as we’re dating.”

“Fake dating,” You clear your throat and correct him as he leans back in his chair again, and he only smiles in response, which your heart apparently takes as a sign to start beating like crazy. Why the fuck is his smile so alluring? God really does have his favorites, doesn’t he? If he’s going to keep looking at you like that, this whole fake-dating might end pretty quickly with a heart failure. “Yeah, okay, I suppose that’s fair, since I only need you as my boyfriend until this Saturday.”

“Only until this Saturday?” He pouts and a smile creeps onto your features, despite your attempts at holding it back. “Alright, then, I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

And he walks off, leaving you feeling a little too excited for someone who needs to pretend they’re dating Kim Mingyu.

—

Soccer. You know absolutely nothing about it, despite having ‘accidentally’ lost your way to the dorm and walked past the soccer field to watch Mingyu play countless times before. That’s why you tried doing research this morning – only that you were so uninterested that all you managed to memorize was that there are 11 players on each team. Way to go, Y/N. Now you’ll definitely impress Mingyu and fool everyone into thinking you’re dating someone who plays soccer.

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” You say as you see Mingyu’s worried expression. He's really cute when he's looking at you like that – like he cares for real, not just pretend. And that's probably what possesses you to tell him, of all people, why you're nervous. “Just a little stressed, because I know absolutely nothing about soccer, and I’m scared our relationship won’t seem believable.”

Why did you just say that? You literally wanted to impress him by pretending to be a soccer expert and now, you're straight up telling him you're clueless? Wow, you are doing a great job at making this whole thing more awkward than it already is.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Mingyu doesn't seem to mind what you told him though, looking more confused than annoyed. “Look, I’ve been watching my teacher explain algebra over and over again, but that doesn’t mean I get it.”

His words have you snorting with laughter and you can see his shoulders loosen up as he smiles. The look he's giving you is making something turn in your stomach – two days ago, you hadn't talked to him before, and suddenly, he's gazing at you as if you're the most interesting thing in the world. Is this how he gets all the girls to fall for him? If so, you totally understand them.

“Besides, you don’t need to like all the things I like for me to like you.”

Okay, um, he didn't need to say it like that. You can't stop your head from whipping around to look at him again, heart beating quicker and quicker, so loudly you fear he might hear it. It's like everything is in slow motion – your body's burning up and he's smiling, unaware of how affected you are by what he said. And he looks stunning, with his hair falling onto his forehead, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket and a cap on his head. You hate caps. They're ugly and are only worn by middle schoolers. But Mingyu wears one, and somehow, it only makes your heart beat harder against your chest.

You chuckle nervously to hide your flustered state, hoping to god you didn't stare at him in silence for too long. “Right, uh, we should get to our seats maybe.”

“Sure,” He smiles again (maybe they should ban smiling from now on, it's proven to cause heart palpitations) and puts his arm around your shoulders. Upon seeing your caught off guard expression, he adds: “We’re dating, remember?”

It's not like he's letting you forget, though.

The seats Karina reserved are somewhere in the back, but since the stadium is huge and the seats are high up, you can pretty much see everything without much trouble. This is something Mingyu notices right away, completely discarding the idea of introducing himself first in order to praise your colleagues for their seat choice.

“Wow, these seats are great,” He says, gaining everyone's attention. From the corner of your eye, you can glimpse the way some of your friends’ mouths drop open. “Whoever picked them out must know their stuff.”

You can see the way Karina's face lights up at Mingyu’s words and it makes you want to throw up. Not only because she's getting on your nerves, but also because you feel a sting in your chest at the fact that Mingyu praised her. You have no right to feel that way – you're not dating him for real, after all – but it hurts just a little bit after what he said earlier. ‘Besides, you don’t need to like all the things I like for me to like you’. What a load of bullshit.

“Aww, thank you,” You'd almost forgotten how fake her overly sweet voice sounds. “You must be Y/N’s boyfriend. I'm Karina, her friend since high school.”

Friend is a bit of an overstatement, for sure. All the two of you had in common in high school was crushing on the same guy. Which is, by the way, the guy who’s sitting next to Karina right now, fingers interlaced with hers. Seungcheol – someone you wasted three years of your life obsessing over, only for him to end up with Karina in the end. And you don’t realize how much of a grudge you still hold against him for choosing her over you before Mingyu finishes introducing himself, and it’s Seungcheol’s turn to smile in your direction.

“Nice to finally meet you, I’m Seungcheol,” He tells your fake boyfriend, before his eyes land on your frame and you feel yourself tense up. “Hey, Y/N, long time no see.”

“Yeah, I guess,” You say with a forced smile, unwillingly taking a step back when he leans forward and holding your breath until you realize he’s just going to shake Mingyu’s hand. Sighing in relief as he sits back down, you silently curse yourself for acting so nervous around him. Still, you can’t help the way it’s like a blunt knife boring into your chest when you lock eyes with the man who cut off all contact with you the moment he met Karina.

Lost in thought, you almost miss the way Mingyu’s grip tightens on your shoulders. Almost.

You turn to send him an inquiring look, but he either doesn’t notice or he just brushes it off, and takes you to your assigned seats. He plops down between you and Seungcheol – deliberately or not, you don’t know, but it sure makes you feel more at ease and you relax in his grip. That’s when you realize he still hasn’t let go of your shoulders, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he is. There’s still space between your bodies, but his knee is brushing over yours and you can smell his cologne clearly. It’s expensive, probably, but it’s not a strong or bold scent. Still, it’s a distinctive aroma – you’ve never smelt it before and yet, you’d have no problem recognizing it after today.

The soccer game is boring, to say the least. You find yourself almost drifting off to sleep multiple times, and each time, you remind yourself that you’re sitting next to Kim Mingyu and he’ll most definitely be disgusted if you fall asleep and drool onto his shoulder. But even though you stay awake, you give up on watching the game about halfway, opting for looking at Mingyu instead.

He’s much more entertaining than some random people kicking a ball, anyway. Besides, his expressions pretty much mirror the whole game. You can tell when his favorite team scores a goal by the way he grins from ear to ear, laughing to himself, and you can tell when a good player misses, because he scrunches his nose up and has this disappointed look in his eyes. That disappointment is so bleak that it has you thinking that whoever does something to make him look at them like that is just, plainly put, a bad person. Silently, you hope he’ll never look at you that way.

“You’re quite invested in this game,” You lean over to Mingyu, raising your voice a little so that he’ll hear you through the noise of cheering people.

“Well, of course I am,” He tears his gaze away from the game to look at you, but only for a moment, before he’s watching the players run across the field with excitement-filled eyes. “This game determines who gets to play in the finale.”

“Ah, I see,” You say and Mingyu doesn’t miss how you smile to yourself, lowering your head as you push your hair away from your face. It’s to no avail, though, because it keeps falling down anyway. He smiles to himself, too, at the scene, but looks away before your eyes can meet, seemingly focused on the game again.

By the time the soccer game is finished, you’re pretty much bored to death – especially since for the past ten minutes, Mingyu has only been talking to Karina and her boyfriend. And for some reason, that makes you really mad. What can they say that’s so interesting? Maybe he should pretend to be Karina’s boyfriend instead, if he likes her so goddamn much. No, Y/N, what the hell? Fake dating has nothing to do with liking. It’s not like Mingyu is here because he likes you. No, he’s pretending to be your boyfriend, because… because, well, because you begged him to. And because you’re paying for his meals.

Still, it kind of angers you that Mingyu has the decency to smile like that at other people than you – since you’ve already been more exposed to heart problems because of that smile, shouldn’t it be reserved for only you?

“I’m leaving,” You tell them, eager to get home and still caught up in that sense of betrayal – something you don’t really have a right to feel in this situation. But it’s not like you can control your emotions. “Bye.”

Locking eyes with Mingyu for a moment, you sigh before turning around to leave just as your colleagues eagerly say something you can’t quite pick up to your so-called boyfriend. You hear their goodbyes faintly in the background as you start walking down the stairs to the exit, starting to feel a little stupid for just walking away like that – if you didn’t, you could have left together with Mingyu. But he doesn’t seem to mind staying and talking to Karina, so why should you care? You’re starting to think he only agreed to fake date you because of this.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” You hear a voice that undoubtedly belongs to none other than Kim Mingyu and it has you smiling before you can even turn around. God, you’re really starting to feel like those butterflies swarming in your stomach aren’t just from you being nervous about lying to your colleagues.

You’re feeling so giddy that you don’t really look where you’re putting your feet as you turn around, which results in your foot slipping off of the stair step and you fall onto the stairs with a wince that leaves your mouth in response to the sharp pain that cruises through your ankle. You want to cry out for Mingyu, but before you can even gather your thoughts enough to do that, he’s already by your side, his dark eyes open wide as they scan your face.

“Are you okay?” He asks, but before you get to reply, his hands cup your face, squishing your cheeks together as he tilts your head to one side, then the other, studying you intently enough for heat to rise to your face. Jeez, why are you thinking about the fact that he’s touching you when you literally just fell down the stairs? You seriously need to get your shit together.

“You’re not,” He decides finally, reaching out to wrap his arms around your waist, and you look up at him in disbelief, prompting him to add: “I’ll carry you.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer or anything, just lifts you up with one arm under your knees and the other under your back like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You think you can hear Karina shout something in the background, but you’re not sure, easily distracted by the feeling of warmth radiating off his body that is now closer to you than it’s been ever before. He’s just your fake boyfriend, but that doesn’t make the loud beating of your heart any less real from where you’re looking up at his focused face, thinking about whether he’s also feeling that small spark of electricity in his body when he touches you.

“But I think I can walk, though,” You mumble against his shoulder, and mentally curse yourself for feeling your heart speed up when he looks down on you, his nose less than two centimeters from your own. His breath lands on your face, at which you turn away from him, just to calm your racing heart a little bit.

“Why would you walk when I can carry you?”

His tone is genuinely confused and you start to think that he must be completely oblivious to the many feelings that stir up inside of you when he starts walking through the alley leading back to the dorms. Words like that are enough to make someone fall in love and yet, he's just saying them like it's something obvious – like it's obvious that since you've hurt your ankle, he has to carry you back home. Even though you can walk. Even though you could take a cab. Even though he's not your boyfriend.

He continues walking like nothing happened – because, as you've finally figured out, he probably doesn't think anything did happen – and you keep your head on his shoulder, feeling pretty miserable as you smell the scent of his shampoo clearly. You’re almost by the dorms when he suddenly stops, putting you down on a bench and telling you he’ll be right back before disappearing into some store, which you soon understand is a pharmacy.

“I’ll pay you back,” You tell him the minute he walks out of the store with an elastic bandage in his hand.

“Don’t worry about it,” He says softly, but you wish he didn’t. Can’t he just let you win this one time? It’s like, every time you see him, he proves that he not only doesn’t have any flaws, but also that he has a lot of qualities you didn’t know about before. But what if you don’t want to know about them? It’s enough that he’s making your heart flutter when he’s pretending to be your boyfriend, but now nobody is watching, so why is he like this? Does he want you to fall in love with him?

If he continues acting like this, you fear that might actually happen.

You watch quietly as he kneels down and helps you take off your shoe, wrapping the bandage around it as if he’s done it a million times before. And you don’t say anything, afraid that if you do, you’ll start crying. Not because it hurts when he touches your ankle, but because he looks absolutely beautiful, face illuminated by the setting sun. You’ve seen him play soccer so many times, and each time, you’ve internally screamed about how hot he looked, but this is different. This time, you can’t take your eyes off of him – his brows furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. It’s all so humane, and yet so captivating to watch.

Before you can even stop yourself, your hand is alreading coming up to Mingyu’s face and pushing his bangs away from his face, and it’s not before he looks up that you freeze with your fingers touching his cheek, realizing what you just did.

“Your hair,” You blurt out, immediately pulling your hand back and feeling your body grow hot when you lock eyes with him. “It was in your eyes, so I just… sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He tilts his head to the side, and you look down, pushing your own hair out of your face.

You don’t answer his question – what are you supposed to say? Not even you know why you apologized. Wait, no, you do know. Because you feel like you’re treating something fake as if it’s real. But isn’t that exactly what he’s doing, too? He’s talking to you like he enjoys it, putting a bandage onto your ankle and worrying about whether or not you are hurt. And none of it seems fake when he does it. Oh, you’re definitely going crazy. Good thing this whole arrangement is over now.

Right. It’s over. With all the stuff that has been going on, you totally forgot that your deal ended right after the soccer game. There’s no reason for you to see Kim Mingyu ever again. You can just cleanse your mind completely, starting tomorrow.

“Don’t you have any hair ties?”

Mingyu’s voice makes you look up in confusion, only to see him sitting right next to you on the bench. “Sorry?”

“Your hair keeps falling into your face, too,” He points out. “You should put it up.”

“Oh, I don’t really like putting my hair up,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, it’s just… I feel like it looks bad on me.”

You feel his gaze on you again, lips pushed in a pout and he looks at you like he’s examining a soccer game. Which partly makes you feel uneasy, but mostly, you’ve grown to enjoy being the center of his attention. Which is dumb. Because he’s just talking to you since you promised to pay for his meals.

“That makes no sense,” He decides finally with a smile. “It’s common knowledge that if you have a pretty face, you should put it on display for everyone to see, you know.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” You scoff, feeling something turn in your stomach. Pretty face. He’s evil for saying it, but you’re the one at fault for feeling like you’re about to float into the air at his words.

“It’s not bullshit,” He protests. “But it made you smile, so you can think whatever you want. As long as you stop walking around grumpy, because it’s making me feel uneasy.”

“Why is it making you feel uneasy?”

“Because I prefer it when you smile,” He grins, before standing up from the bench. “Come on, we should get going. It’s dark already.”

One look to the sky is enough to make you realize that it is, in fact, already dark, so you grab Mingyu’s outstretched hand and you let him pick you up, this time placing you on his back instead. You wrap your legs around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder – justifying it by saying that it’s the last time you can enjoy being this close to him. Which is true, but it still doesn’t justify how you’re drinking in his scent and the sound of his breath as if you’re trying to memorize it.

“Are you sure you can carry me all the way to campus?”

“Yes, of course,” He says before bringing one arm up to flex his biceps. “I’m a strong boy.”

You chuckle at his antics, taking the opportunity to bury your head in his neck, feeling how goosebumps spread all over his skin when your nose brushes over it. “You’ve been a good fake boyfriend, you know. Thank you for doing this.”

“What?” You hear Mingyu’s confused tone. “Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Karina asked if you and I wanted to join them for bowling tomorrow.”

You sigh. “And what did you tell her?”

“That we would come,” He says and upon seeing your expression, he’s quick to add: “I mean, what else was I supposed to say? That we’re planning on breaking up tomorrow?”

You sigh miserably, knowing that he’s right. It’s not like he could say anything else.

“Are you mad?” He asks after a while, and you ponder for a bit on that question.

Are you mad? Yeah, you are. But after some thought, you realize you’re not mad that you’re going bowling or that you have to keep pretending that Mingyu is your boyfriend – you’re mad because this means you no longer have an excuse for the way you feel happy in his company, or the way you’re tightly holding onto his shoulders right now. Because it’s not the last time you get to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to see his face, and yet you’re looking at him as if it is. And you have a feeling you’re starting to figure out exactly why that is.

“No,” You reply finally. “Just tired.”

Yeah. Sleep will fix everything. It has to.

—

Sleep doesn’t fix anything at all.

If anything, it makes everything worse, because you dream about Mingyu and his godforsaken smile that he bestows upon you right before he leans down to press his lips to yours. And that’s when you wake up, feeling more miserable than ever. Now you’re really starting to wonder why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to start fake-dating your crush.

God, Y/N, get your shit together. Are you really so weak that you can’t spend two hours in Mingyu’s presence before you start dreaming about him? In all honesty, though, it’s not your fault that he looks so pretty when he smiles. And when he doesn’t.

“Shut the fuck up,” You mumble to yourself as you get up.

Today is going to be a long day.

“Where are the others?” Is the first thing you ask Mingyu when you arrive at the bowling center, where he’s sitting alone on a chair by the bowling track. Your only solace when you thought about meeting Mingyu again and having to deal with his painfully handsome face, was that the two of you wouldn’t be alone, and yet somehow, you’re the two first to arrive.

“Not here yet,” He says, looking up from his phone and pushing his hair back to look at you. “You walked all the way here?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You shouldn’t be walking long distances when your ankle is hurt,” He points out and you press your lips together into a thin line – it’s 1pm and he’s already making your insides turn to mush. Great. “Sit down at least, if you’re gonna be so stubborn.”

You nod and do as you’re told, looking everywhere but at Mingyu. Maybe if you don’t look at his face, you can stop this stupid crush from turning into something worse. It’s naive, but it’s better than having your heart flutter at the smallest of things. Like when he ran his fingers through his hair earlier – why the hell did you get goosebumps from that? You must be out of your mind.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable or something?” Mingyu asks suddenly, and it makes you really feel bad for acting like that. It’s not like he’s making you feel like this on purpose. “It’s like you don’t want to look at me.”

Oh, you do want to look at him. You just know better than to hurt yourself like that.

You sigh and turn to him, resting your chin on your hand. “Is this better?”

“Much better,” He smiles cheerfully in return.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

And rightfully so, you think to yourself as he giggles softly, before opening up a bottle of water and putting it up to his lips. You’re wishing you never turned to look at him again, because the way the sleeves of his shirt have rolled up to reveal his arms should be illegal. You can see the way his muscles flex as he opens the bottle, the way his jaw and neck are on display when he tilts his head backwards to drink. The way his soft lips wrap around the mouth of the bottle has your mind reeling with images of him kissing you like that, and since the vision is making your whole body heat up, you turn your eyes away, searching for something else to focus on.

You find that ‘something’ on the table in front of you – there’s another bottle of water there and you decide it’s a good distraction, so you reach for it. Everything goes well until you’ve tried to open it three times and the cork doesn’t even move an inch. What the fuck?

“You need help with that?”

Mingyu’s looking at you with a hint of amusement in his eyes, hands already taking the bottle from you without waiting for a proper answer. You give up on protesting and silently sit back, watching the veins on his hand become more apparent as he opens the bottle with ease, before handing it back to you with a satisfied grin on his face. It’s obvious in the way he’s looking at you that opening the bottle for you boosted his ego, and it makes you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to look so happy, you self-obsessed idiot.”

“Who are you calling self-obsessed?” He pouts, suddenly leaning forward and pinching your cheeks – something that makes your heart beating stop for a good five seconds. “I just wanted to help my cute baby out.”

“I’m not your–”

“Oh my god, you two are so freaking cute!” You’re interrupted by a voice that undoubtedly belongs to one of your colleagues who just walked in, Karina and Seungchoel in tow. Taking it as a sign, you pull away from Mingyu, feeling your heart beat so hard that you’re scared it’s going to beat out of your chest. What the hell just happened? “Sorry we’re late, we missed the bus.”

The fact that you’re not alone with Mingy anymore allows you to pull yourself together a bit, and you’re happy to see that he’s leading the conversation without asking you for any input. Soon enough, Karina wants to start bowling, and you’re divided into three groups – Karina with her boyfriend, Mingyu with you, and your two other colleagues with each other. You’ve never bowled before, which makes you extremely nervous – maybe the fact that Mingyu is watching you plays a part in that, too – and as expected, you totally miss the bowling skittles when you let go of the ball.

You can hear Karina giggle in the background, which makes you sit down, discouraged. Plopping down next to Mingu, you don’t really pay attention to who’s playing, more focused on counting down the time until you can go home, already tired of all this. You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you almost don’t notice Mingyu’s hand that he rests on your upper thigh. Almost. In an instant, you’re turning to look at him in disbelief, but it’s a bad idea, because he was leaning towards you, too, to whisper something in your ear.

You freeze in your seat, and so does he, the rest of the world suddenly drowned out. The only sound hitting your ears is his breath, and it’s like everything is moving in slow motion – his dark brown eyes staring into yours, large hand brushing over the skin on your thigh, his skin flushing a delicate shade of pink. You can barely register your own nervousness as you look at his lips – usually turned up in a smile, but right now they’re slightly parted, no trace of cockiness to be seen anywhere. Is it bad that you really want him to kiss you right now? It is, and it’s even worse that you can’t even deny it anymore.

You should pull away, look away, do something – anything. But you can’t. You’re just looking into his eyes like there’s no one else in the room, letting that warm feeling that stirs up inside of your chest grow.

“What I wanted to say was that you don’t have to get upset over what Karina says or does,” Mingyu finally whispers, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he breaks eye contact. “Her opinion doesn’t matter.”

You nod slowly, wondering why he looked away – is he nervous, like you? Kim Mingyu and ‘nervous’ are words that you’d never place together in a sentence, but now, he really seems a little hesitant, or maybe even shy. You don’t know. Oh, why is he always so hard to figure out? First, he’s flexing his muscles at you and calling you his baby, and then he’s looking away when you lock eyes with him? His middle name should be ‘mixed signals’ at this point.

“Mingyu, it’s your turn.” It’s Seungcheol’s voice that forces you to turn your attention elsewhere, and you’re half-relieved, half-angry as you watch Mingyu rise up from his seat and take the bowling ball into his hands. Your thigh feels kind of cold without his hand resting on it.

As expected, Mingyu is really good at bowling – just as he is good at everything else – and it seems that his usual mood is back, because before he throws the ball, he’s lifting it up with one arm to show everyone how strong he is, and sending you a wink. It’s just for show, but it still sends a spark of electricity through your body. Though that still doesn’t compare to the way you’re basically drooling over him as he bowles. Hey, it’s not your fault that he looks fucking hot in that black shirt that folds up just enough to reveal a centimetre or two of his abs as he jumps up in thriumph.

What catches your attention, though, is how you’re not the only one shamelessly staring at Mingyu – Karina seems to be just as drawn to him, looking at him as if he’s her next meal or something. What the hell? You’d think that since she’s got a boyfriend, she’d stay away from someone she thinks is your boyfriend. Once a bitch, always a bitch, you think to yourself as you see her smile flirtatiously at Mingyu when he looks at her for a moment. Okay, that’s enough.

You stand up, pretty much making all of your colleagues look at you with furrowed brows and walk up to Mingyu just as he’s about to pick up another ball. Surprising both him and yourself with your actions, you grab ahold of his arm, pulling him closer to you.

“We should get going,” You say to everyone, throwing a fake smile Karina’s way before you stomp out of the bowling center, dragging a very confused Mingyu with you.

Once you’ve stepped outside and gotten a breath of fresh air, it dawns on you that your fingers are still wrapped around Mingyu’s biceps – as wrapped around as they can be, anyway, because for them to fit all the way around his arm, your fingers would have to be like five times longer. You retract your hand as you realize you’re touching him, not even sparing him a glance when you start walking home. Maybe it’s because you feel embarrassed for dragging him away like that, or maybe you don’t want him to see how upset you are, but you figure it’s best if you walk away from him.

“Hey!” You hear his voice, and not even two seconds later, his fingers are closing around your wrist, forcing you to stop walking. “You okay? What was that about?”

And that’s it for not having this conversation right now, you suppose. You turn around to face him, sighing.

“Did you really not see how Karina was looking at you?” You ask him and when he furrows his brows in confusion, you groan. “She was totally staring at you for twenty minutes, at least. Like she wanted to eat you or something. Did you really not notice?”

“No,” He shakes his head.

“Wow, you really are ignorant,” You laugh bitterly. Great, so he's probably not even aware that his actions can make someone's heart beat faster, or that the things he does make him seem like he's interested in you. “You’re seriously so unaware of everything.”

“Well, I’m aware that you’re jealous.”

“Excuse me?” You blink in surprise and he just flashes you a grin before starting to walk down the sidewalk. Does he really not realize he's making you want to rip your hair out? Or maybe he does, and he's just preying on your downfall. Either way, you conclude that you should get rid of him as soon as possible. “Mingyu, wait, you're walking too fast.”

Oh, well. Maybe you're not as strong-willed as you thought.

“It’s not my fault your legs are so short,” He says, but waits for you nevertheless, and adjusts his pace so that he's walking next to you. His hands are in his pockets, a smile on his face and the way his muscles are illuminated by the sunlight has you fighting for your life. “You’re small and cute, though, so I'll forgive you.”

“Do you have a size kink or something?”

You regret saying that as soon as the words leave your mouth, because now you're not only flustered from when he called you cute, but your mind is also reeling with the thought of him being turned on by you being smaller than him. Which is absolutely wrong of you to think about, since you're not even in a real relationship with the guy. So why are you suddenly feeling a little faint when you look at his strong arms and hands big enough to cover your whole face? And why are you dying to feel them on you?

He's about to reply to your question, when suddenly, you can see his eyes fan to something behind you, and soon enough those arms you were drooling over are grabbing you by your shoulders and he's practically throwing you to the other side of the sidewalk. It's because a car was driving close to the pavement, you realize, and it's such a touching gesture that it makes your heart beat quicker. But you can't even focus on that for too long, because soon enough, you're thinking about the way he basically manhandled you and how badly you want him to do it again.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. What is wrong with you, Y/N? He's just being a kind person and you're not only developing a crush on him, no, now you're also thinking about fucking him. Talk about the worst fake-dating experience ever.

“Doesn’t he know how to drive or what?” You hear Mingyu mumble and it takes you a second to realize what he's talking about, and another to realize you're staring. Hopefully he didn't notice. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Of course he noticed.

“Like what?” You decide to play dumb and start walking again.

“Like that,” He emphasizes. “Like you want to eat me or something.”

He's just teasing you, you realize as soon as he repeats what you'd said earlier about Karina. He probably doesn't even realize just how right he is. And he doesn't need to realize it, either, you think to yourself as you roll your eyes at him to hide your nervousness. Or maybe there's a chance he feels like that, too? He did push you aside so he was the one walking on the dangerous side of the pavement, after all. And he put his hand on your thigh. And smiled at you. And looked at you as if you were the only girl in the world. And–

No. You need to stop doing that to yourself. He's your fake boyfriend, he needs to do these things. But most of these occurrences happened when the two of you were alone.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Mingyu asks suddenly and you whip your head around to look at him.

“Studying for my math exam at the library with Wonwoo. Why? Did Karina ask for us to go somewhere with her again?”

“No. Why with Wonwoo, though?”

“Because he’s good at math?” You say, eyeing his clenched jaw cautiously. “Why’re you asking?”

“No reason.”

And then he just walks in silence. Why is he suddenly so quiet? Is he jealous? Is it bad that you hope he is? Probably. But you can't help it. You’re so caught up in imagining a jealous Mingyu that you don’t even realize you’ve arrived at campus before you see the school fountain right in front of you, and the university building behind it. It’s still quite early, and the sun lights up the flower-filled grass in a way that makes it look really magical. You smile to yourself at the sight, and turn to look at Mingyu, but he’s nowhere to be seen. For a second, your smile drops, before you feel a hand on your shoulder and Mingyu’s face is smiling down on you, a small, yellow flower in his hand. He must’ve picked it just now.

“Boo,” He says softly, and it’s like he casts some sort of spell over you, because suddenly, you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, even as his hot breath fans over your face and spreads goosebumps all across your skin.

“It’s pretty,” You tell him. It’s about the flower, you think to yourself, but it’s really not.

A second passes. Then two. He doesn’t move. He’s just looking at you, his eyes fan over your lips, your nose, then they stare into yours. Deeply. Warmly. Ardently. You don’t want to look away, so you don’t. And neither does he. Six seconds. Seven. He leans in – you can hear him breathe. Or maybe it’s the sound of your own breath? It’s all mixed now, intertwined. Eight, nine, ten. His hand touches your jaw. It burns, but in the best way possible. You don’t want this to end. Fifteen seconds have passed. His fingers tuck something behind your ear. The flower. It’s the flower. Eighteen. Nineteen. A smile that makes you melt.

“Yeah,” He whispers, finger grazing your cheek before he pulls away. “Really pretty.”

And then it’s just complete silence, except for the sound of your heart loudly banging against your chest. Boom. Boom. Boom. You’re in love.

—

You’ve always felt perfectly content with having a silent, one-sided crush on Kim Mingyu, but now that you’ve gotten a taste of who he is, it’s hard not to wish for something more. Even though you know it’s not going to happen.

That's what you're thinking about the next day as you sit in the library with Wonwoo, a math book full of things you don't understand in front of you. You've been sitting like this for an hour, and Wonwoo has already filled three pages in his notebook with math assignments, while yours remain empty. Mingyu has been occupying your mind ever since you parted ways yesterday, the way he put the flower in your hair playing on repeat in your thoughts.

The flower. Oh, you must be crazy, but you could swear that you saw a hint of emotion in his eyes as he looked at you, something that sparked up a hope that you might just have a chance with him. Maybe he has feelings for you, too.

Just as you're thinking about that, your phone buzzes with a message and you pick it up instantly in hopes that it's Mingyu. It's not.

Hi would u and Mingyu like to come along on a trip w me and Cheol this weekend? We’re going to the seaside resort :)

“Of course you're going to the fucking seaside resort,” You mutter under your breath, catching Wonwoo’s attention.

“What was that?” When you shake your head, he sends you a smile and doesn't press any further. For some reason, that makes you feel out of place. He's so different from Mingyu, who would've definitely investigated you by now. You find yourself missing that, missing him, even though you shouldn't. “Do you want to take a small break and go grab something to eat?”

“Yeah, sure,” You agree, because it'll definitely be good for you to stop focusing so much on Mingyu and the feelings you've developed for him. But right as you're done packing your things, the doors to the library are, to the librarian's dismay, thrown open with a thud and in walks the only person you know who wouldn't care (or know) that you're supposed to stay quiet in a place like this.

“Y/N!” Mingyu’s loud voice tears through the silence, and many students raise their heads to look at what the hell is going on. Some look utterly confused, with their mouths hanging open, and you suppose you look the same as you watch a man who last read a book in middle school walk into the library. “There you are. You guys done studying?”

“I– Uh, no,” You say, suddenly very nervous. “We were going to take a break and eat something. But what are you doing here? I thought you hated the library.”

“I still do, this place is awful,” He frowns for a moment, but not even a second later his signature smile is back on his face. “But I wanted to help you study.”

He what? That just sounds strange coming out of his mouth. Not to mention the way it makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach. One thing is Kim Mingyu flirting with you, and pretending to be your boyfriend – another is him suddenly offering to study in the library with you, even though you know he hates it. Especially since he doesn't have to. It's not like he has to pretend to be your boyfriend right now.

“You… wanted to help her study?” It's Wonwoo that speaks up first, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, can't I do that?” Mingyu’s voice is soft, but his eyes that have settled on Wonwoo’s frame emit some kind of coldness that you’ve never seen in them before. Wonwoo seems to sense this, too, because his gaze fans to you and he smiles under his breath at Mingyu’s behavior. ��We can go get food later, Y/N, let's finish studying first, okay?”

“But Wonwoo wanted to–”

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ll get food by myself,” Wonwoo says reassuringly and you can glimpse the way Mingyu’s shoulders loosen up as your friend picks up his bag. “I finished the homework earlier, and, to be honest, it doesn’t look like I’m wanted here.”

And with a wink sent Mingyu’s way, he walks away, leaving you alone with the boy you’ve both been dying and dreading to see. His bangs are in his face – his hair is messy, his eyelids are drooping and his shirt is creased. He must’ve just gotten up from bed, which is such a Mingyu-thing to do, considering it’s already way past noon. Nobody sleeps that long. Nobody except him. Just like nobody except him can make you smile just by simply existing – just by standing next to you in sweatpants, with a can of Redbull in his hand. Looking way out of place, but staying anyway.

“Hey,” You say it more like a question, but Mingyu doesn't seem to notice that as he sits down by the table where you and Wonwoo were studying earlier.

“Hey,” He replies and takes a sip of his drink – which, by the way, he's not allowed to have at the library. Though you don’t suppose he cares, since his wide smile is back on his features again, like it never left. “You ready to study?”

You sit down on the chair to his right, feeling your lips spread in a small smile at the way Mingyu’s all up in your business again – even if it mean he’s making your stupid little crush even worse by just being close to you. That thought seems so distant, though, when you see him grin at you cutely despite the tiredness in his face.

“I am,” You say, getting out your notebooks again. “But I have trouble believing you’re here to study.”

“You got me,” He raises his arms in resignation, flashing his teeth at you as he’s leaning back in his chair. “I’m just here to watch you study and be of moral support.”

“Right,” You say, eyeing him cautiously. “I don’t think today’s your working day, though, fake boyfriend. It’s not like Karina can see us here.”

“So?”

‘So’? What the hell is that supposed to mean? One look at his face is enough to tell you he’s well aware that today, he doesn’t have to hang out with you. And yet he’s right here, in the library of all places, sitting next to you like it’s the most natural thing to do. Does that mean he genuinely likes to spend time with you?

“So, you are free to leave,” You give him another chance, just in case he’s starting to realize his mistake, though if he left now, you’re not sure whether you wouldn’t just have started crying your eyes out.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He must be dumb for real, you think to yourself as you catch his softly curious gaze. There’s something in his eyes you can’t quite put a finger on – if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was feeling apprehensive to hear the answer. Which isn’t possible, obviously, because Mingyu doesn’t care what people think of him, and he certainly doesn’t give a shit if you tell him to leave. He’ll just find another girl to flash his smile at. Still, something in his gaze tells you not to joke around right now, so you speak your mind.

“No, I don’t,” You can’t help but mimic his actions when he grins and that weird look in his eyes disappears, but before he can start shouting, you add: “But that doesn’t mean you get to bother me while I work. I don’t want to hear a single word from you until I’m done with this assignment.”

“You’re so cruel,” He pouts but shuts up, picking up some random book from the nearby shelf and burying his nose in it.

You sigh in content, turning your attention to your mathbook. Now you'll really get to work.

You don’t really get to work, though. Thirty minutes have passed without a single equation being written down in your notebook and it’s all Mingyu’s fault. Technically, he’s not bothering you at all as you work, his eyes firmly planted in the book in his hands. And still, you can’t seem to concentrate at all when he’s sitting next to you, with his long fingers gently tapping the wooden table as his eyes fan over one page, then the other, and he’s bringing his hand up to turn to the next page.

He doesn’t do any of this elegantly at all – truly, his grip on the page is way too rough, folding the paper each time he turns it over and his eyes keep fanning back up to a previous sentence he didn’t quite catch because he zoned out. It’s painfully obvious he hasn’t read a book willingly before in his life, and yet, somehow, he manages to look utterly beautiful while doing it. His whole existence is a threat to your sanity, you conclude, looking away. You can’t afford to have him notice your staring.

Not even ten minutes later, just as you’ve finally calmed yourself down enough to fill half a page of math problems (the only obstacle in your way being the hair that keeps falling into your face) this temporary peace of mind is torn away from you in an instant when you feel a featherlight touch on your neck, making your head snap up in surprise.

There are goosebumps forming on your skin when your eyes meet Mingyu’s sheepish smile, his fingers caressing the back of your neck as he gathers your hair in his hands. For a moment, you can’t seem to form words, taken aback by this close proximity, your heartbeat loud in your ears. Then, slowly, you start breathing again.

“What–”

“Shh,” He cuts you off, as if you didn’t just have to sit there regaining your breath just to ask him the question he’s not letting you ask. “Don’t get distracted. I’m just putting your hair up.”

Just. So this is, like, normal for him? He puts every girl’s hair up in a ponytail when hair falls in her face? That explains why he owns a hair tie.

“Where did you get that hair tie?” You ask him, a little accusingly, as he finishes putting your hair up in a ponytail.

“At the store? That’s where they usually sell hair ties, you know.”

“Yeah, but like, why do you have it? It’s not like you need it.”

“No, but you do,” Upon seeing your unconvinced expression, he sighs. “I saw it at the convenience store today, and it made me think of you and how your hair is always falling into your eyes because you won’t put it up, so I bought it. Now you have a hair tie and I get to hang out with you more because you can finish your assignment quicker. It’s a win-win situation, really.”

For a second you’re left just blinking dumbly, feeling a little giddy for no reason at all. He bought it for you? He thought of you at the convenience store? Is this the part where you start jumping up and down, giggling? No, Y/N, calm down. It's not like he confessed his love for you, either. But you suppose it's close enough.

“Idiot,” You tell him with a smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt. “Why would you waste your money on that?”

“It’s not a waste, it's a gift. Now finish your assignment, I'm getting bored.”

And as if to prove his point, he leans back in his chair with his eyes closed, resting his arms behind his head. There's nothing extraordinary about the action, and yet it makes something turn in your lower stomach when his shirt rides up a few centimeters to let you catch a glimpse of his abs. His biceps are on full display, too – flexed because of the position he's in, and big. There's no doubt he's spent some time in the gym and God, it shouldn't be legal to look this good because now you're imagining him working out, drenched in sweat and shirtless and it's absolutely not good for your health.

“Oh, right,” You say to Mingyu, suddenly reminded of something. “Karina and Seungcheol want us to come with them to the seaside resort this weekend.”

“We should go, then,” Mingyu opens his eyes and rests his chin on his hand. “Right?”

“Probably,” You sigh. “It’s the whole weekend, though. Friday evening to Sunday morning. Two nights at the hotel. It seems a little redundant.”

“I don't mind. I don't have anything else to do, anyway.”

You raise your brows in suspicion. “Kim Mingyu doesn't have anything to do on a Friday night except spend time with his fake girlfriend at a seaside resort? I'm finding that a little hard to believe.”

“Yeah, okay, correction: I don't have anything else I'd rather do on a Friday night than spend time with my fake girlfriend at a seaside resort.”

In contrast to his usual playful smile, he's looking quite serious as he says that and you wonder if he means it. You read into the things he says a little too much, you know that, but it's not like it's completely baseless for you to think that he might like you. Oh, this is all so fucking complicated. Fake boyfriend, real boyfriend – where does one draw the line? He is only pretending to date you, so why do his smiles feel so genuine? Why does it feel real when he tells you you’re pretty?

If he's only your fake boyfriend, why are you in love with him for real?

“Great. I'll tell Karina we're coming, then.”

——

You are not going to let yourself be affected by Mingyu and his actions today. Not even in the slightest bit. You can’t afford to get your hopes up. Besides, staying indifferent can’t be that difficult, right? He’s not that interesting. His smile isn’t that alluring, either, if you really think about it – there’s nothing fascinating about the way his eyes turn upwards when he grins, pure elation radiating off of him. Nope, you don’t care about him and his stupid smile at all. That’s what you keep repeating in your mind on the way to the seaside resort, knowing damn well it must be the worst lie to have ever been told.

It’s fine, it’s fine. Even if he does affect you and your heartbeat rate, you can still keep it a secret. You’ve been doing it for the past weeks, so why not this weekend, too? This weekend and you’re done – you and Mingyu part ways once and for all. Sure, you’ll feel miserable without seeing his smile, but it’ll pass after a week. Or seventeen years.

Shit. You’re so fucked.

And you realize you’re even more fucked than you thought as you enter the hotel at which you’re supposed to be staying at, only to find Seuncheol and Karina already standing in the hallway. But they're not the reason you're fucked. No, the reason is standing next to them in a white, form-fitting shirt and his laugh echoing off the walls.

Mingyu’s back is turned to you, but it brings you little relief, since you can clearly still see the outline of his back muscles through the thin material of his shirt. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say he looks godly, and neither would it be an overstatement to say that, no matter how bad you try not to, you can’t help but literally devour him with your eyes from where you’re walking towards them slowly. Partly, you dread the moment they’ll notice you, because you’ll be forced to look not only at Mingyu’s exposed forearms but also his ridiculously handsome face. And even as you prepare yourself for the moment, you still find yourself feeling a little dizzy when Mingyu turns around to look at you.

“Y/N, you’re here,” He says, and the excitement laced in his voice is just a little too real for you to completely get rid of the idea that it’s not just pretend. “I missed your pretty face.”

He then proceeds to trap you in his arms, muffling out all sounds of Seungcheol and Karina laughing as he pulls you flush against his chest. You can’t breathe for a moment – not because his grip is too tight, but because you realize that fuck, you’re actually being hugged by Kim Mingyu right now and it feels way too comforting for your own good. The scent of his cologne hits your nose – it’s the same one he used at the football game, the same distinctive smell that officially belongs to him now – and the warmth of his skin actually works to calm down your heart a little. It’s a contrast to how you usually react to being close to him, but you don’t mind, because this feeling of solace brings you equally as much glee.

“I missed you, too,” You mumble against his chest, and it’s not a lie at all. “But can you please let go of me? You’re crushing my ribs.”

“Ah, right,” He chuckles, and when he lets go of you, the whole world falls back into place – reminding you why you’re here and that you’re not alone. “Sometimes I forget how small and cute you are.”

You scoff in response, feeling your whole body heat up.

One would think you’d get used to these dumb comments after coming dangerously close to heart failure because of him more times than you can count the past weeks. But no, it still affects you all the same and makes your insides turn to mush, even if Karina and Seungcheol are standing right there, which means that his words are most likely just for show.

It's the weekend, though, and you've been living in a constant state of overthinking the past week, so you don't suppose it's that much of a big deal if you sit back a little and let yourself feel happy when Mingyu shows you affection. It's inevitable, anyway, since you’re in love with the guy. In love. It sounds so serious when you put it like that. And one look at his smiling face reminds you that it is.

“So,” Karina clears her throat, gaining your attention. “We should check into our rooms now, and then we can go for a walk and ice cream later?”

Everyone agrees, and so you head to the reception desk in pairs – Karina holding Seuncheol’s hand, and you with Mingyu next to you, your shoulders just barely touching. You get the keys to your room and thank the lady – Mingyu does so with a wide grin that probably just made that woman’s day much better – before you start heading upstairs. There’s only one problem, though – you’ve brought three bags along and now that your uber isn’t helping you carry them, you feel like you’re about to faint from taking three steps with them in your hands – not to mention you have to walk up the stairs with them.

“I’ll carry those for you,” You hear Mingyu’s voice, and before you can utter a word, he’s taking the bags from you with a smirk. “I’m your strong boyfriend, after all.”

You can’t even bring yourself to protest as he starts walking up the stairs with your and his bags, muscles flexed. Your eyes must linger on his arms a little too long, because soon enough, he’s sending you a shit-eating grin and lifting your bags up and down like they’re weights at the gym. It’s a joke – he’s teasing you – and yet it’s making you feel all hot and bothered. God, you must be crazy. Half-embarrassed, you avert your gaze in order to calm your heart down before it beats out of your chest.

“You’re enjoying yourself a little too much for someone who’s carrying four heavy bags up a shitload of stairs, don’t you think?” You try to sound composed, but it doesn’t really work.

“Not at all,” He smiles – you weren’t supposed to look, but it’s not your fault that whenever you hear his voice, all of your attention is on him – yet it doesn’t hide the way his face is reddening and his voice is strained, arms starting to shake just a little from the weight.

You can’t help but burst into laughter at both his face and his stubbornness – that boy would seriously rather die than admit he overestimated his strength. He doesn’t laugh with you, just sends you a glare and pouts as he finally sets down the bags in your shared room as the two of you arrive. No matter how hard he tries, though, he can’t erase the hint of enjoyment that lies in his gaze.

It takes Mingyu less than two seconds to plop onto the soft bed and sigh dreamily, like he’s just ran a marathon.

“Just don’t fall asleep. We’re going for ice cream in half an hour, you know.”

“Hmm.”

“If you fall asleep, I won’t wake you up,” You warn him, ignoring the way your heart is doing loops at the sight of his sleepy state. He looks so cute with a sheepish smile on his face, nose buried in the pillows.

He doesn't react in any way, so you add: “Are you really that exhausted from just carrying my luggage?”

That, he hears very well.

“Of course I’m not,” He jumps up straight away, like someone poured cold water all over him and you can't help but smile to yourself at the way he's – way too obviously – flexing his muscles for you to see.

“I was just joking, Mingyu,” You tell him, walking over to where he's standing, by the bed. “You’re very strong.”

And before you can think twice, you put your hand on his bicep and squeeze it through the shirt. It takes you less than a second to do that, and another second for your mind to start malfunctioning. Oh, fuck. One, you just touched Mingyu’s biceps. Two, they're big. Big, as in you realize you can't even wrap your fingers halfway around them. Big, as in if he were to hold you in place, there was no way you'd be able to move.

And finally, three, this one little touch is enough to have you feeling weak in the knees, unable to think of anything but the way his muscles felt under your fingertips. You can't stop yourself from imagining how they would feel without that shirt separating your skin from his, either. Oh, you've really dug your own grave with this one.

“You think I’m strong?” Mingyu’s voice is soft, but his gaze is intense as you look up at him.

“I– I mean you carried my bags up the stairs, didn't you?”

“Sure did,” He smiles and for a moment, you think you're safe. “But you didn't have to touch me to figure that out, did you?”

Nevermind that. You're not safe at all. In fact, you feel like all the air from your lungs has dissolved, leaving you breathless. Being in love with Kim Mingyu is one thing – making it so painfully obvious is another. What if this makes things awkward between the two of you? You wouldn't be able to stand that. Partly because it ruins your chance of convincing everyone you have a boyfriend, but mostly because you truly enjoy being around Mingyu, and you don't want this… thing you have going on to stop. You having to live without speaking of your crush on him is much better than not speaking to him at all.

“I’m sorry,” You say finally, unsure of what else you could've possibly said to save the situation.

“Why are you apologizing?” He looks at you from above, pushing your hair away from your face before bringing that hand to brush over the part of your shoulder that is exposed by your tank top. You shudder. “I never said that I mind.”

What?

Did he just say what you think he said? ‘I never said that I mind’ – what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That he liked it when you touched him? That he wants you to? He's got to be messing with you. Right? His eyes don't leave yours, though, and while there's a cocky grin on his face, he's nowhere near laughing.

“We should, uh, head downstairs. They're probably waiting for us,” You say, heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah, we should.”

You wait for him to move, but he doesn't. So you don't, either. You're still dangerously close to him – if he were anyone else, you'd say he was invading your personal space. But he's Mingyu, and the truth is that you want him all up in your personal space. That doesn't change the fact that this is making you nervous – the way he's gazing down on you with a look you can decipher, the way his hand lingers just a couple centimeters away from your arm, the way you can hear his breathing clearly. You want him to do something – anything – because the tension in the air is so thick, you could touch it. But you don't want to touch it, you want to touch him.

And you want him to touch you. Does he want that, too? You don’t want to get your hopes up too much, but you also can’t seem to shake the thought that he looks infatuated with you, too, at this moment. His eyes are lidded, tongue darting to lick at his lips. Not once does he look away. What is he thinking about? Suddenly you wish you were inside his head.

“Y/N, Mingyu, are you guys coming?” Karina's voice from outside the door brings you back to the real world.

Right. You're going for ice cream. Shit, you really need to stay focused. You’re here to have Mingyu pretend to be your boyfriend, not to make him become your real one.

With that in mind, you start walking towards the door. You don’t even make it two steps before you feel Mingyu’s hand grab your wrist, before pulling you back to him. Surely, he doesn’t use all of his strength, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’d have collided with his chest if it wasn’t for the hand that he places on your hip to steady you. Suddenly you're face to face with him again – well, maybe face to chest is more accurate – but you don’t even get to question his actions before his rip on your wrist fades, and he brings his hands up to brush something off of your cheek instead. Then, he lets go altogether.

“You had something on your face,” He explains upon seeing your facial expression.

“Is that why you’re looking at me like that?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. What is up with you today? When did you get so shameless? It must be all the endorphins Mingyu’s providing you with speaking. You’re about to take back what you said, but as usual, Mingyu beats you to it.

“No,” He’s smiling again – running a hand through his hair and flashing his teeth at you. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of his smile. “That’s just because I like you.”

And then he fucking leaves. Like he didn’t just fucking make your heart drop to your stomach and then jump right back up, only to start beating at an abnormal speed. Because I like you. You’re about to faint. At least it feels that way. Are you even breathing? Everything seems so unimportant suddenly, the only image in your head being Mingyu and his smile. Because I like you. His words are on replay in your mind, flowing through your whole body until they reach your heart, where they settle down to bloom. Because I like you. He likes you.

Mingyu likes you.

It’s not a love confession, nor does it mean he wants you to his girlfriend for real, but it’s a confirmation that you didn’t fuck up everything with you reckless actions earlier, and it also means you have a chance. Even if just in the slightest. That’s enough for you.

Well, there goes the plan of not letting yourself get affected by Mingyu’s words and actions, you suppose. Slowly, you fight the urge to start giggling like a schoolgirl and leave the room to meet the others, who are standing in the hallway, waiting for you. Karina looks annoyed as usual, Seungcheol smiles softly, and Mingyu – oh, you could write a whole about how stunning he looks even in the poor lighting of the hotel – grins when he sees you and you can’t help but do the same.

“Finally,” Karina groans, and you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to her, but right then, Mingyu drapes his arm over your shoulders and pulls you close, which erases each and every thought you had before, replacing them with pure elation. He really is driving you crazy.

“Let’s go, then.”

The way to the ice cream shop is merely a fifteen minute walk and it leads through the empty streets that surround your hotel. It’s getting dark already as the four of you head outside, and the cool air is making you regret not putting on a jacket. But hey, in your defense, if Mingyu hadn’t decided to make your whole body grow hot with his actions, maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten about it. It’s alright, though, because Mingyu’s arm around your shoulders is warm and doesn’t leave much room for worrying. Even if he’s just doing it for show. But you don’t need to think about that right now, anyway.

Inside the shop, it’s cozy and warm, which is something you revel in for approximately five seconds before Karina suggests that you eat your ice cream outside. You can’t imagine what’s going through her head when she says that – it’s freezing cold outside, for fuck’s sake – but Mingyu and Seungcheol don’t seem to share your doubts, so you only follow after them with a sigh as they sit down at one of the outdoor tables. The place is cute and the ice cream is good, but you can’t really focus on any of that with the way the cold air is hitting your poor skin. You don’t want to disturb Mingyu when he’s so invested in whatever conversation he’s having, though, so you don’t mention it.

“You okay, Y/N?” It’s Seungcheol that is first to notice your state, his voice laced with concern.

You can see how Mingyu stops talking immediately, turning his head to look at you, too, and you smile apologetically. “What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

Seungcheol smiles at you and starts to take off his jacket, which you’re about to tell him not to do, but Mingyu’s voice cuts through the air before you can even say a word.

“You’re cold?” It’s a question, but he doesn’t wait for an answer before taking off his jacket – that way also effectively putting Seuncheol’s actions to a halt – and putting it around your shoulders. “Here, put this on.”

“It’s oka–”

You don’t even get to finish as he lifts up your arm to slip it inside the sleeve of the jacket. As he reaches for your right arm, you help him and slip it inside of the sleeve yourself, and so his fingers come up to zip the jacket up instead. Your eyes find his when he pushes the zipper up to your neck, hand brushing over your skin as he nudges your hair away so it doesn’t get in the way. His gaze glimmers with satisfaction as he finishes putting on the jacket, as if he just solved a very hard puzzle, and your heart flutters just a little when you look at his grinning face.

“You look cute.”

Well, maybe more than just a little.

“Thanks,” You mumble as you look away, reminded that you’re in fact not alone with Mingyu right now.

A silence settles over the four of you; Karina’s jaw is clenched as she eats her ice cream, while Seungcheol just looks like he’s feeling out of place. You feel a sting of guilt in your chest – they invited you to hang out together, and you’re making this into a way of interacting as much as possible with Mingyu. It’s not fair for them, not to mention it isn’t very good for you, either, because soon enough, he won’t be pretending to be your boyfriend anymore. You should be getting used to not spending time with him, not the other way around.

“So,” Karina says finally, her eyes evidently trained on only Mingyu. “How do you guys like the ice cream?”

‘You guys’, my ass, you think to yourself. She’s literally looking Mingyu right in the eyes, and still acting as if the question is directed at everyone? You kind of feel bad for Seungcheol for having to deal with her on a daily basis.

“It’s really good,” He tells her and Karina sends him her sickly sweet smile. She opens her mouth to say something, but you’ve seen enough of her advances towards Mingyu – though he’s not technically your boyfriend, so you have no right to get jealous. But you do.

“Really? Let me taste,” You say and before you can back out, you grab at Mingyu’s wrist and lick his mint chocolate ice cream.

Okay, so first of all – mint chocolate is disgusting. It tastes awful. You suppose this must be how Mingyu feels each time he walks into a library. Second of all, despite the appalling taste, it’s absolutely worth it because the way Karina’s face turns into an expression of pure defeat is probably the second best thing to happen to you today. The best being every conversation you’ve had with Mingyu, of course.

Speaking of your fake boyfriend – his eyes are set on you as you lean away from him again, something in his gaze sending shivers down your spine. His eyes are wide – you’ve caught him off guard. Good. If he’s going to make your head spin every day, you might as well do the same.

He doesn’t look away, just keeps gazing at you with an intensity that would’ve forced you to sit down if you were standing up. You can see the way his stare drops down to your mouth and then moves up again, his tongue darting to lick at his lips. There’s something in his eyes – something that wasn’t there before. Something that shoots straight down between your legs. Desire, maybe? But not in the primal way, it’s deeper than that, more tender. Yearning. Longing. Something in between. Want. Yes, that’s the word.

“You’ve got ice cream on your lips,” He says it so quietly you almost don’t hear him – which is weird, since it’s Mingyu we’re talking about here.

“Really? Where?”

You’re about to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, but Mingyu’s fingers wrap themselves around your wrist and hold it in place. What is he doing? You look at him – at his parted lips, the hint of a smile lurking on his face, that stare of his that fills you with all kinds of feelings – and your heart stops. He leans forward – you can feel his breath on your face as he looks down on your lips again.

He’s going to kiss you. And you want him to.

You want to keep looking at him, at his smile, his beautiful eyes, but you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering close when his soft lips meet yours. He’s barely touching you, the kiss is merely a brush of skin against skin, but it still drives you crazy, sets your whole body on fire. You can’t move, couldn’t have pushed him away even if you wanted to. But you don’t want to. You want this to last forever, the subtle taste of mint chocolate, the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his tongue brushing over the inner corner of your lips – you don’t want it to end.

But it does end. Far too quickly. He pulls away, with a grin on his face, completely unaware of how badly you want to jump into his arms and kiss him again.

“There.”

You blink. Once. Twice. What is he talking about? Oh, right. The ice cream. He was licking off the ice cream. Your heart beats against your chest painfully hard, serving as a reminder of the situation you’re in. Seungcheol and Karina are still here, and Mingyu just kissed you. You put the pieces together fairly quickly from there – of course he kissed you, he’s supposed to be your boyfriend. It’s more believable that way. Suddenly the taste of mint chocolate that lingers on your tongue stings.

“You guys are so cute together,” Karina smiles her fake smile and something turns in your stomach.

She totally bought it. But so did you.

“I think that’s all thanks to Y/N,” Mingyu’s laugh rings in your ears as his arm falls around your shoulders again. He’s holding you close, but the air’s colder than ever and the smell of his cologne hurts your nose. Not because it smells bad, but because you like it too much.

“Speaking of Y/N, what made you fall for her? I mean, the two of you are so different from each other. On different levels, almost.”

Karina’s words feel like salt in a wound. Different levels. Is that true? Mingyu’s grip tightens on your shoulders, but this action that usually would’ve had you feeling warm inside just barely registers in your mind. Focus, you want to tell yourself, you’re not supposed to feel sad now. You’ll only fuck up the whole plan and your relationship with Mingyu in the process. But you can’t stop your thoughts from reeling and your heart from sinking.

“What do you mean?” If Mingyu knows what Karina’s talking about – which, surely, he must know, since it’s not much of a secret he’s out of your league – he’s doing a great job at pretending he doesn’t. Just like he’s done a great job at pretending to have feelings for you. Almost too great.

“I just don’t get why you chose Y/N,” There it is. “I mean, you could probably have any girl you want.”

He could. You know that. You’ve always known. He’s Kim Mingyu, for fuck’s sake – who wouldn’t fall for that smile of his? You surely did. Though right now, you regret it. You regret asking him to be your fake boyfriend, you regret forming a connection to him, and you regret letting him kiss you like he meant it. It’s your own fault, really. If you’d just let yourself crush on him silently, if you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, thinking he might like you, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have had to sit by his side, feeling like the most naive person on earth.

“I don’t want to have any other girl, though,” You don’t want to look at him, but you do. His smile is long gone, and it feels so weird to look at him without it. Not bad or scary, just different. A new side of him. “I want her.”

Your eyes widen as you look up to meet his gaze. Funny how you’ve spent the last weeks getting to know him, but now, when it really matters, you can’t figure out what’s going on inside his head. He’s looking at you with a shadow of a smile ghosting over his lips, eyes filled with the warmth you’re used to seeing in them, and it doesn’t seem fake at all. Neither did the kiss, or the hug, or any of the signs he’s given you the last weeks. All of it felt real. But what does that matter when it’s all pretend by default, anyway?

A minute passes by in silence. You have so many things to say, but you say nothing at all. Only after that minute has passed and the feeling of Mingyu’s arm around you is too much for your poor heart to handle do you stand up, making everyone look at you. Mingyu’s arm falls limp onto your chair. He’s about to say something, but this time, it’s you that doesn’t let him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” You say and leave them at the shop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not just for a moment when you start walking down the street that leads back to the hotel.

You’re still wearing his jacket, you realize, but you don’t take it off. It’s cold – that’s your excuse, but really, you miss him already. Part of you wants to stop walking and see if he’ll come running, but part of you hopes he won’t. You walked away to avoid telling him about all of this – the mess you made by dragging him into this. If you see him now, you’ll end up spilling everything. And he’ll want nothing to do with you ever again.

You make it a whole seven steps before you hear his voice.

“Y/N! Wait!” And against your better judgement, you stop walking until he catches up to you – breath fanning at you from above, yet you can’t seem to look up at him. “There you are. Why are you walking alone in the dark?”

You should go. Leave him behind like you intended to, break off this whole deal and go home. Pretend like Kim Mingyu doesn’t exist, pretend you’re not in love with him. But your feet won’t move. It’s like every bit of doubt and worry you’ve kept inside of you until now is making its way to the surface.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Mingyu’s hand cups your chin and tilts it so your gazes meet. His eyes soften – go from a look of fear to tenderness. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

Yes, you made me fall in love with you, you idiot, you think. But you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you sigh and let your head fall against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. You can tell Mingyu wants to say something – his breath is ragged, muscles tense – but instead, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. One, two, three. You calm yourself down slowly, inhaling his scent. Mingyu isn’t a patient man – you know he wants you to tell him what’s going on. And you will. You owe him that much. But you let yourself revel in his presence for a minute or two first, thinking that if everything goes wrong, at least you’ll have the memory of his strong arms protecting you from any pain.

“Is this about the Karina thing?” You feel the vibrations of his voice through his chest as he speaks and it makes you smile. “You know that what she said is just complete bullshit, right? You shouldn’t care–”

“You’re such an idiot, Kim Mingyu,” You cut him off as you pull away. He looks so shocked at your words that it makes you want to laugh. “You really are. You notice how my hair falls into my face, or how I’m struggling to carry my bags, but you don’t notice the way your words and actions affect me.”

He probably doesn’t know it, but he always pushes his lips out in a pout when he’s confused, and right now is no exception. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You take a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. Hopelessly so. And I know you don’t feel the same way, but you could’ve at least spared me for all your heart-fluttering gestures, because you’re only making me fall harder.”

You thought you’d completely accepted your failure, but the way your heart reaches dramatic speed once you’re done speaking proves you otherwise. Or maybe it’s not hope that has you feeling dizzy – maybe it’s just Mingyu himself. You observe him cautiously after you’ve said it, and slowly, but surely, you see his pout and furrowed eyebrows fade into a smile – a soft one that has his eyes crinkling.

“Who said I don’t feel the same way?” His voice is merely above a whisper as his hand reaches for your cheek, thumb stroking the skin on it. You shiver under his touch, slowly processing his words as his other hand comes to grab at your waist and pull you close. “I like you, remember? A lot.”

“Yes, but you were my fake boyfriend and–”

“Why do you think I agreed to this whole deal, Y/N? I’ve had my eyes on you ever since that party at Soonyoung’s.”

“You agreed because I promised to pay for your meals,” You remind him, heart struggling to beat at a normal speed when you feel his fingers play when his finger moves from stroking your cheek to your jaw.

“It’s not like I can’t pay for my own meals. The hair tie, the library, the flower – do you think I do that to every girl I hang out with? Why do you think I spent time with you when I didn’t have to?”

You swallow as his thumb strokes your lower lip. “I don’t know, because you’re nice like that?”

“Nobody’s just ‘nice like that’, baby,” He smiles that ridiculously gorgeous smile of his as he leans forward to connect his forehead to yours, almost making you faint in the process. He might've kissed you earlier, but this is different. Now he knows everything. “When I said I wanted you, I wasn’t kidding.”

Okay, Y/N, breathe, you tell yourself, but it’s easier said than done. Especially when his breath is mixed with yours, eyes shining with emotion as your noses brush against each other. He wants you. Kim Mingyu wants you. Your heart is beating so hard against your chest you fear he might hear it from where he’s standing, merely a centimeter away. It’s like he’s awaiting your next move. Without thinking much, you put your hands on his shoulder and pull him a bit closer. Just so his lips fan over yours, and butterflies swarm in your stomach. Oh, you want him to kiss you so badly.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, because not even one second later he’s closing the small distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. This time, it’s not just a brush of skin against skin – well, objectively speaking, it is, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s much different from the kiss at the ice cream shop. Now, he’s holding onto you tightly, entangling his fingers in your hair while his lips move against yours fervently. The arm which rests on your waist is pulling you closer, though you doubt you could be any closer to him than what you already are. Your grip on his shoulders is just as firm, the cool air nothing compared to the way your whole body is heating up from his touch.

Mingyu’s teeth scrape against your lower lip and you open your mouth slightly, gripping his bicep tighter when he slips his tongue inside. You can’t even make out what he tastes like – whether it’s mint chocolate, coffee or anything else – you’re too focused on the fact that he’s kissing you, that his hands are pulling you closer as he moves his lips against yours. His fingers pull at your hair just hard enough for you to tilt your head back and allow him to move his lips down to your jaw, tongue darting over the skin. You want to look at him, but you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut when he starts pressing open-mouthed kisses against your throat, spreading goosebumps all over your skin and you shiver.

For some reason, Mingyu takes this as a sign to pull away, leaving you with chapped lips and breathlessness in his arms.

“Why’d you stop?” It sounds a lot whinier than you’d intended, but who can really blame you? Kim Mingyu just told you he has feelings for you and kissed you, only to let it end this fast – you’re allowed to whine.

“Because you looked cold,” He says and you scoff. Because you looked cold? What kind of excuse is that? He grins at your facial expression, moving his face closer to yours so that for a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you again. “Why? Am I so good at kissing that you need more?”

“I literally hate you so much,” You push him away with a scoff, thinking that walking back to the hotel might be a good idea since the cold is starting to catch up with you. Still, you listen for Mingyu’s steps behind you as you walk, only speeding up when you’re certain he’s walking, too.

“That’s mean,” It doesn’t take long for him to catch up with you and walk by your side, shoulder against yours the whole way until the hotel that, fortunately, lies only 100 meters away. “I don’t give kisses to girls that are mean, you know.”

You arrive at the warm hotel fairly quickly and waste no time heading towards your room, acting like you’re eager to crawl under the sheets. In all honesty, you’re more eager to spend time with Mingyu without freezing to death – not that you’ll tell him that. You’ve boosted his ego enough for today, you suppose. Speaking of Mingyu – he walks with you, but you don’t look at him before you’ve entered the room, unable to hold back your smile at the pout that is evident on his face just like it was in his voice earlier.

“And what girls do you give kisses to?” You ask him as you take off your (his) jacket and throw it on the floor. His eyes find yours as he walks over to wrap his arms around you again, and just like every other time he’s touching you, it makes your heart beat faster. Nose brushing against yours, eyes smiling down on you, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You want to kiss him again.

“You.”

“What?” You laugh at his response, almost missing the way his eyes rest on your lips. Almost. “That makes no sen–”

You’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours for a mere second, soft and sweet for as long as you can taste them, and then he pulls away with a wide grin on his face. And you can’t even bring yourself to get mad at him for pulling away when he looks so fucking cute looking down on you, hair falling into his eyes a little.

“I love you,” He says after a while, and it’s like there are fireworks going off inside of you. You could’ve died from happiness right then and there.

“I love you, too.”

“Let’s go to sleep, baby.”

You nod your head, half in a daze. He loves you. Kim Mingyu loves you. And he doesn’t dissappear when you’re in the bathroom, changing, he’s still there when you come out – sitting on the bed, waiting for you. You smile at him and he smiles at you, hands latching onto your shirt and pulling you down next to him. He pulls you closer, legs entangled with yours under the covers as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

This night you fall asleep between Mingyu’s arms, breathing in his scent and feeling completely at ease.

—

The sunlight shining through the window is what wakes you up the following morning, inviting you to open your eyes only to screw them shut again. It’s way too early for that much light, you decide, rubbing your eyes before you realize it is, in fact, already almost noon. God, you’ve slept in. You almost get the urge to get ready for school, but then you remember – you’re at the seaside resort with Karina and Seungcheol. And Mingyu. You smile as you think of him, reaching to your left to touch him, but you’re only met with warm bedding underneath your fingers.

For a scary second, you worry that he’s left, or maybe even worse – that all the things you remember from yesterday never happened and it was just a dream. Fortunately, those worries evaporate when the door to the bathroom that is connected to your room flies open and none other than Mingyu himself walks out.

Which is great and all – except that he has a towel wrapped around his waist. Only a towel.

You try to divert your eyes, you really do, but it’s really fucking difficult when he’s standing two meters away from you with water dripping down his exposed chest to slip under the white towel that is the only thing shielding him from your sight. His hair is wet, too, falling into his forehead until he pushes it away, his arm muscles accentuated by the lighting. God, looking this good should be illegal. It’s not like it’s anything new that Mingyu’s hot, and yet the sight stirs up a heat between your legs, heart beating a little faster as you sit up on the bed, finally forcing yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Oh, hey,” He catches your gaze and flexes his muscles instantly – something that might’ve just made you laugh if it didn’t shoot straight to your pussy. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah, well, um,” You gulp a little too loud when you catch yourself looking down on his bare chest again. You need to focus, you think to yourself, closing your eyes briefly to collect your thoughts. “I don’t usually sleep this long.”

“Mhm,” You see him smile and then the bed bends under his weight as he plops down on it, arms reaching for you and pulling you close with ease. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, lips fanning over the skin and making you shiver softly. All cute and all, except he’s still only wearing a towel and the warmth of his body is making you you lose your mind a little. “And do you usually look at people like that?”

Like what, you’re about to ask, but the words die down in your throat when you feel his big hands slip under your shirt and rest on your waist, and you know he knows you want him. It’s kind of embarrasing how big of an effect even his slightest touch has on you, but who can really blame you for feeling all hot and bothered when Kim Mingyu is lying in bed with you, his chest against yours and hips only a few centimeters away from meeting his? He smells so nice, too – the scent of his shampoo is making it impossible for you to even think about leaving his embrace.

“No,” You whisper instead, breath hitching when he lifts you up to place you in his lap. He’s leaning against the headboard now, finger still firmly gripping your waist as he leaps forward to plant a soft kiss to your neck.

“No?” He says this against the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his hands travel higher and higher until they fan over the back of your bra, asking for permission to take it off. You give it to him by pushing your chest out against him, hands grabbing at his arms under the excuse of keeping yourself steady. Though, in reality, you just really like his arms, and the feeling of his muscles beneath your fingers only serves to help a throb form between your legs.

“No, just you,” You basically moan out as his right hand gropes one of your tits, bra thrown onto the floor.

“Just me?”

He smiles against you, now pressing a kiss to your jaw, pushing himself up against you to reach more of your skin, and in that way, causing his hips to brush up against yours. Your grip on his shoulders tightens at the contact and so does the coil in your stomach – you might be wearing shorts and the towel is still wrapped around Mingyu’s hips, but that doesn’t change the fact that you can clearly feel how his hard cock is pressing into the side of your inner thigh, mere centimeters from where you want it to be.

It’s like he reads your thoughts, because in the next moment, he’s lifting his hips again so his clothed cock brushes up against you, and judging from the satisfied smile that settles onto his face when you gasp, he’s doing it on purpose. You can’t even say anything when his hand rests on your hip and pushes you down on his bulge, this time successfully rubbing against your clit.

God, you’re going to go crazy if the two of you keep pretending this is a normal cuddling session any longer. At this point, you’re positive both your panties and shorts are completely soaked, not to mention how painfully your pussy is throbbing with need – the need for Kim Mingyu to fuck you.

“Mingyu…”

“Mmm?” He hums absentmindedly, fingers moving lower until they rest against the waistband of your panties.

You only whine at him in response, deciding to take matters into your own hands when you see his amused smile, your hips rolling into his and your pussy clenching around nothing when it rubs against his cock. You can feel how his fingers dig into your skin, a soft moan escaping past his lips at the touch and you know you've won.

“What happened to the cute, shy Y/N?” He’s still smiling as he speaks, letting his hand push your panties aside and hover just a centimeter away from your dripping pussy. It makes you suck in a breath, and Mingyu smiles even wider. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I’m still here,” You assure him, moving your hips just a little forward so they reach his hand. It takes all in you not to outright whimper when the palm of his hand grazes your cunt, the slight sensation enough to make your whole body go limp in his arms, your mouth resting close to his ear. “I just really want you to fuck me right now.”

And that’s all Mingyu needs to hear before he basically manhandles you so your back is flat against the mattress, the towel slipping dangerously low on his hips as he hovers above you with his chest against yours. You shiver underneath him, nipples pressing against the thin shirt you're still wearing, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve yourself of some of the tension. Mingyu doesn't fail to notice any of that, quick to practically rip your shirt off and play with your tits with one hand, while the other pulls down your shorts and panties so he can press one finger flat against your clit.

“Mingyu,” You moan out, lifting your hips off of the bed to create some friction. “Please.”

“God, you're so eager,” He grins and runs his fingers over your tits as he starts moving his thumb across your pussy, smiling in satisfaction when he sees how you're practically dripping onto his hand. “And so wet. Is that just for me, baby?”

You can't even give him an answer when he pushes one of his fingers inside of you, still letting his thumb press against your clit. A whimper leaves your mouth when he pulls it out only to push it back in a second later, setting a quick pace pretty quickly. The room is already filled with the noises your cunt makes when he fucks his finger into you, adding another when he realizes you're still bucking your hips up, begging for more. His thumb starts lazily rubbing circles on your clit, and you moan his name, then bite your lip to muffle the noise.

“Don’t,” The way Mingyu pouts is a big contrast to the way his fingers curl inside of you as he pushes them deeper into your wet cunt. “Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make, okay?”

“Okay,” You whimper, tightening your grip on him when the finger rubbing your clit speeds up and he presses wet kisses into your neck, then down to your tits and stomach.

His hand that isn’t busy fucking you with his fingers settles on your hip as his mouth reaches your inner thighs. He kisses them softly and looks up at you, eyes dark and hair framing his face so nicely, before he dives between your legs, catcing you off guard when his fingers slip out of you, only to be replaced by his tongue that laps up your juices while he continues rubbing your now swollen clit.

“Feels so good, Gyu,” You say and you can feel him moan against your pussy, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core. It's embarrassing how close you are to cumming already, but in your defense, Mingyu knows exactly what he's doing when he drags his nose through your folds, letting one of his fingers slip through your walls again. You grab at his hair, not trying to hold back your moans anymore as his tongue presses against your clit.

“You taste so good,” He purrs against you, making you cry out in pleasure when his fingers hit that one spot that makes your toes curl.

It's all too much to handle – the way his finger is leaving and entering your pussy at a fast speed, plunging deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit – it's got your thighs closing around his head, hands pulling at his hair to bring him closer like that's even possible. You’re so focused on chasing your orgasm, that you almost don’t notice when he adds another finger to pump in and out of your cunt, making you feel so full that your eyes roll to the back of your head and you clench around him repeatedly.

You don't even get to warn Mingyu of your approaching high in any other way than holding tight onto his strong arms as your pussy clamps down on his fingers, your hips bucking into his face. The intensity of your orgasm has you grabbing at the sheets as you cum on his tongue and fingers, feeling a little empty when he retracts his hand from your heat.

“Mingyu,” You whine from overstimulation when his tongue laps at your pussy again, licking up all your juices before he sits up.

“Sorry,” Mingyu smiles in a way that tells you he doesn’t feel sorry at all, and waits until you prop yourself up on your elbows so he can kiss you.

You can taste yourself on his tongue when it slips inside of your mouth, but what occupies your mind more is the way he’s still got the towel wrapped around his hips, and his painfully hard cock is now pressed against your thigh, reminding you just how badly you want it inside of you. It doesn’t exactly help the case that Mingyu’s looking even hotter than before – his hair pretty much dry now, but completely disheveled, chin glistening with your slick.

Before you can get the chance to back down, you put your hand on his chest and let it trace his muscles until you reach where the towel is tied. Mingyu basically purrs into your mouth when you palm his cock over the fabric, his head falling onto your shoulder.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” He mumbles into your ear and you feel his words shoot straight to your pussy. “You want that, don't you?”

“Mhm,” You tell him as he pushes you down on the mattress again, your hands coming up to finally untie the towel that's shielding him from your hungry eyes. “Want your cock, Mingyu, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He helps you push the towel off of his hips and groans when his cock springs free – it's a pretty sound that would've totally made you feel even needier if you weren't too occupied staring at him with wide eyes instead. You can tell from his growing smile that you're only feeding into his ego, but you can't really help it – his cock is not only pretty, it's also really fucking big.

“Aw, are you scared it won't fit?” His thumb strokes your lip and you can see how his arm muscles tighten when he leans on them to align himself at your entrance. “Don’t worry, baby, I'll make sure it does.”

You shiver when the tip of his dick grazes your cunt, his arm helping you to wrap your legs around his hips. His breath fans over your face as he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, and you feel both butterflies and heat spread in your lower stomach at the action. God, he really wants you dead. The smile on his face doesn't subside even as he starts rubbing his cock across your folds without warning, making you grab at his arms, moans leaving your mouth no matter how hard you try to hold them back each time he comes in contact with your clit.

To your defense, you weren't exactly expecting him to suddenly start smearing your arousal all over your swollen cunt.

His movements work wonders, though, and soon enough, you're clenching around nothing with each roll of his hips, dripping onto his cock like he's been touching you'd hours, when in reality, it only took five or so swipes of his dick to bring you to this state.

“Mingyu, please,” If his goal was to have you become a whining mess, he's definitely reached it, because now, all sense of embarrassment is thrown aside. “I want you inside of me.”

“Are you sure you can take it?” He asks, but you can tell he's just as eager as you when he positions himself at your entrance.

You nod vigorously and that's all the confirmation he needs to drive his cock into you slowly. He's trying to be gentle – you can tell from the way his lips are parted and his big hands grip your waist tighter – but that doesn't change the fact that he's stretching you out like crazy, small whimpers leaving your mouth as you try to adjust to his size. You've barely gotten used to having him inside of you when you realize he hasn't even pushed all the way in. You're already feeling incredibly full, but nothing beats the way you feel Mingyu’s cock deep inside of you when he finally bottoms out, your pussy sucking him in.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” Mingyu groans and you only clench around him harder at the praise, feeling your mind go a little hazy at how stuffed you are with his cock. “Making me wanna fuck you dumb.”

Do it then, you want to tell him, but then he starts moving and all plans you had of speaking turn into quiet whimpers as you dig your nails into his skin. He’s moving painfully slowly, but it’s still making your head spin when he pulls out only to push himself back into your tight cunt, stretching you out and making you feel every bit of his cock clearly.

At first, you manage to keep your eyes on Mingyu – the way his abdominal muscles flex with each leisure thrust, making you whimper a little louder than you would’ve otherwise, the way his cock creates a bulge in your stomach when he buries it deep inside of you, the way his mouth falls open in a groan whenever your walls tighten around him. After a while, though, you can tell he wants to go faster and truthfully – you want him to,

“Mingyu,” You mumble, tapping his shoulder lightly. He only hums absentmindedly in response, but his eyes meet yours, so you continue. “More, please.”

“More?” His eyes light up and he thrusts a little harder this time, experimentally, smiling when you let out a broken moan. “Yeah? Feels good?”

“Mhm,” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut when he draws his hips back only to push into you again, this time deep enough so that you feel him all the way to your stomach.

Satisfied with your answer, Mingyu positions your leg higher on his hip so he can thrust into you at a deeper angle – something that leaves you seeing stars when he picks up his pace, fucking you into the matress. Your hands grab at his arms to steady yourself while his hand cups your tits, face leaning forward to press open mouthed kisses to your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin softly.

“Feels so fucking good, baby,” He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your body and making you clench around him harder.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten and your eyes roll to the back of your head as Mingyu hits that one spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure. He doesn’t miss your louder moans, smiling to himself as he continues to hit that spot, sucking marks into your skin. His thrusts are fast but far from shallow, making your mind go foggy, not able to focus on anything but the way he’s fucking you so good. You bury your hands in his hair, forgetting all about being embarrassed and whimpering his name with each thrust that pushes you closer to your orgasm.

“Mingyu,” You say. “I’m so close.”

This only urges him to go harder, now bringing his thumb to rub circles on your clit as well, the action making you almost scream his name, thighs starting to shake. You don’t even have to hold onto him anymore – which is good, because you’re unable to think of anything else than how his cock slips in and out of your sopping cunt – because his strong arms are holding you up, fingers sliding easily across your sensitive clit. Your pussy is clenching around him uncontrollably now, tears starting to prickle at your eyes from the stimulation and you almost don’t register the things he’s whispering into your ear with a hoarse voice.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, taking everything I give you.”

You nod your head dumbly and clench around him in response, unable to really gather your thoughts to form any sentence, but Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind, hand coming to grab at your hips and push them against him so he can reach deeper into your pussy. This is when you can’t hold it in anymore, a loud moan of his name leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, sucking him in tightly as if you don’t want him to pull out.

You can feel Mingyu’s smile against your neck as he continues to pound into you as you’re trying to recover from your second orgasm, chasing his own high. Whimpering from the overstimulation, you hold onto him as he twitches inside of you. It doesn’t take long before he’s moaning right into your ear – a sound that makes your breath hitch in your throat – and emptying his cum into you.

“Fuck,” He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact. This makes him smile – his signature grin looking even better on him than usually, with his cheeks flushed and droplets of sweat forming on his exposed forehead. “You did so well, baby.”

You can feel butterflies swarming in your stomach at the praise, face contorting into a tired smile when he lies down next to you, strong arms pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you realize you’d have no problem falling asleep between his arms right now.

“That was really amazing, you know,” He says and looks down on you.

“I know,” You press a kiss to his jaw. “Round two in thirty minutes?”

Mingyu’s laughter fills not only the room, but your heart as well.

“That’s my girl.”

taglist: @fixonbreakoff @httpswonwoosglasses @miniaturegardenerkingdom @xxtingz @yuyusdandelion @listxn @seungkwan-s @doublebunnykoo @gyuwhore @014yyuno @seokgyustudios @idkwhatursayinh @yaysuko @doitlikehoshi @sebongmochi

#mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #kim mingyu x reader #svt smut

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banjjakz · 6 months

Text

convection currents ; yuuta x GN!reader

“Am I important to you, Okkotsu-san?” God, he can’t stand it. The way you look at him, the uneven lilt in your fragile, quavering voice; it makes him want to bury himself alive inside of you. “Yuuta,” he says. “Just ‘Yuuta’ is fine.”

word count: 7.6k

warnings: horizontal hanky panky, obsession, possessive tendencies, unhealthy relationships, codependency, semi graphic descriptions of violence, major character death

‪♡‬ read on ao3 ‪♡‬

likes + reblogs appreciated!

Yuuta wants to like you.

And he does – like you, that is. He really, really does.

But there have been some moments that give him pause.

Don’t get him wrong! You’re sweet, kind, doting, attentive, and very clearly an anxious bundle of painful self-awareness. He finds comfort in the kindred connection between your loner spirits. Training is made infinitely easier when he steals a glance at the gentle flash of your sweet smile, the soft flutter of your hair in the breeze, the twinkle of your laugh, floating through the air as a windchime’s ephemeral melody serenades the breeze. Everything about you seems to be perfectly enveloped and embedded within his daily reality at Tokyo Tech; natural, easy, right. That is what it feels like, to be at your side.

The budding affection between the two of you kicks his foolish, stuttering heart into overdrive. How long has it been, since the blood pumping through his veins was motivated by a sensation other than mortal terror?

You make him want to envision a reality wherein he’s embedded into the fabric of the living, breathing world, rather than continue to occupy his perch as a pariah, perennially scapegoated to the periphery.

Each sidelong glance thrown your way is accompanied by the erratic twitch of his clammy hands, as he tries and fails to pay attention during one of Gojo’s rambling, nonsensical lectures. The light in his eyes revives when you call his name. Innards undulating in and out of place, he tracks your body’s every movement, your muscles contorting fast as quicksilver during scrimmages, lethal and alluring all at once.

These are some of the objectively positive aspects of his attraction to you; the things that pull him from his bed in the morning, calling to him like the abyss compels a creature of the night to rise from its coffin.

And then, there are the more…er, complex moments.

“Did you just come back from a mission, Okkotsu-san?”

Like today, for example. Yuuta had just arrived back on campus after a fun afternoon spent with Toge traversing around Tokyo, patronizing various cafes and konbinis. You were lingering at the entrance of the dormitory, back to the front door, effectively coming between him and his bed.

“Ah, no. I was with Inumaki. We were hanging out for a bit.”

“Where?”

“Just in the city…”

“What did you do?”

He stills, uncertain. “Um…that’s…”

“I’m sorry.” Your head ducks in shame, hiding your face from his quizzical glance. “It’s been hard adjusting to student life as a mid-year transfer. I keep up well enough in classes, and on missions, but I don’t think any of the other students like me all that much. Forgive me, Okkotsu-san. To be honest, I’m jealous of how easily you get along with Inumaki-san and Maki-san.”

Of course. How could he assume anything different?

As a non-lineage sorcerer, you were haphazardly discovered by one of the senior sorcerers on a mission gone south and roped into the jujutsu world without prior knowledge of its existence. From a firsthand perspective, he of all people should be able to understand how isolating that must be.

Kicking himself for his judgemental first reaction, Yuuta forces his skeleton to release the tension it harbors. “No, don’t worry. Have you been sleeping well? Did you eat dinner?”

Sheepishly, you shake your head.

This is how he finds himself alone, with you, in a secluded alcove on the outskirts of campus. The afternoon has matured into a thick, syrupy evening, the sky bruised with a smattering of warm hues. You sit on the grassy bank as a pair, shoulder-to-shoulder, your union celebrated by the rhythmic thrum of the cicadas’ song.

“Here, take it.” He offers you the last flavored onigiri leftover from his spoils of konbini adventures.

You protest, waving your hands in front of you. “No, no, no. I’m fine with just a plain one. Please. I don’t want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Plain is my favorite,” he lies. “I don’t even like yaki.”

“...Then why did you have one in your bag?”

“Haha! That’s a great question! I don’t know!” Beet red, Yuuta scratches the back of his head.

Out of mercy, and perhaps pity, you graciously accept the yaki onigiri. Munching in companionable quietude ensues for several minutes, as you both watch the sun impale itself on the dark horizon, bleeding out across the sky in dark, inky tones.

Without sitting face-to-face, it’s easier to speak to you, somehow. The insistent pressure on his chest lifts long enough for some words of actual substance to slip forth. “It’s hard, the first year.”

You remain silent.

“My first year was hell, too. Although that’s probably because I was being haunted.”

“By who?”

He blinks, your question knocking him off balance. Not by “what,” but by “who” had he been haunted? You’ve always been observant. This is why you’ve survived for so long.

“Um, it’s a long story… I’ll tell you in full one day. For now, I’ll just say that there was someone very special to me when I was a child… and it was hard for her to let go of me, when push came to shove.”

“Ah. I see.”

Although August has yet to conclude, the air around him is significantly chillier than what is characteristic of Tokyo’s late-summer hazy heat. Yuuta shivers, pulling his knees up to his chin.

“Yeah. But, um, anyways. If you need someone to talk to…to be by your side… I would like to be that person for you.” He utters your name like a prayer, too concentrated on not stuttering to be embarrassed at the earnest tremble in his voice. “I wish I had a confidante when I first got here. It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”

“A confidante? But didn’t you have your friend?”

Your reply jolts him into looking at you. The expression on your face tells him that you truly mean it as a genuine inquiry.

“Well, um. I was being haunted…and Rika – er, she didn’t really listen to me. She actually got a little overprotective, I think.”

“Do you think she was evil?”

“No!” The denial explodes from his mouth before Yuuta can even fully process the nuance of the question posed. “No,” he repeats, at an appropriate volume, this time. “She was clingy, and protective, and possessive, and honestly violent, but she wasn’t evil. I loved her. I think a part of me always will.”

Love? What is he doing talking to you, alone, at night, about love? How embarrassing. He hadn’t meant to say all that!

Quickly, he stuffs his mouth with the remainder of his onigiri. No more talking. Just chewing.

If you are perturbed by his sentimental ramblings, you show no sign of it. If anything, your face remains impassive, serene, undisturbed like the surface of a tranquil pond.

“You loved her for that, then. Was she haunting you if you were in love?”

After he finishes choking down the final, sticky remnants of his dinner, Yuuta frowns, mulling over your words which are heavy by the virtue of their implication, yet hang and sway in the air as an empty noose dangles from the gallows.

“...I don’t know.” Yuuta says, at length. “That’s what I was diagnosed with when I came here. And it was hard for me to function, back when Rika was still here. I didn’t have any friends. And people close to me got hurt a lot.”

“It sounds like she was always trying to protect you… even when you were apart. I only wish one day, I find someone who would have the capacity to care for me like that…”

“You want that?”

“I do.” Not an ounce of hesitation in your firm, forthcoming reply. “I’ve spent my whole life as something worth less than notice or acknowledgement. Always feeling invisible, never having anyone – not even one person – who cared about me. Up until this point, I’ve lived life wanting to die every day.”

For lack of a better reply, Yuuta simply asks: “What changed?”

“...I met you, Okkotsu-san.”

Oh, wow.

It’s kind of funny – where other people describe feeling hot, Yuuta has always been chronically, terminally cold. Your words induce a rapidly onsetting deep-freeze which permeates every layer of his skin, every molecule of his bones, every wretched atom of marrow lying dormant inside of him, all of it, every fiber of being rooted to the spot in an indescribable emotion.

“I–I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I apologize for making you uncomfortable.”

That’s wrong. “No, you didn’t! You didn’t, I swear. Just… um, I’m also a person who is lonely, like you described. So I’m not used to, err, being, ah, important. To people? I guess?”

“Oh… I see.”

Clearly, the higher function of critical thought has abandoned him; this is the only explanation for how he reaches to grab your hands, sending the half-eaten yaki onigiri tumbling down to the dark earth beneath your anxiously shifting feet. He squeezes you, tightly, and is delighted in a morose sort of way to find your digits even colder than his.

“Let’s teach each other. How to be important to someone else.”

“Am I important to you, Okkotsu-san?”

God, he can’t stand it. The way you look at him, the uneven lilt in your fragile, quavering voice; it makes him want to bury himself alive inside of you.

“Yuuta,” he says. “Just ‘Yuuta’ is fine.”

;

Field missions have been a part of his daily life as a sorcerer since the day he arrived at Tokyo Tech. Battle has always been challenging for all the obvious reasons, but never before has Yuuta had to deal with the added hardship of fighting alongside you.

This, of course, is not meant to imply that you aren’t able to hold your own; on the contrary, your physical and cursed prowess has granted you the rank of semi-special grade despite this being your first year enrolled in any kind of formal jujutsu schooling. Your cursed technique is innate to your personality and sensibilities, which helps. But even if that weren’t the case, you would still be one of Tokyo’s top-performing students.

Missions are difficult because, despite all of this being true, Yuuta is powerless to curb the instinct to protect you during fights.

It manifests in small ways, at first: insisting to be paired up with you for assignments, always volunteering to partner up when splitting from the larger group during an investigation– things like this.

His behavior starts to stray into problematic territory the longer he is allowed to get away with it, unchecked.

“After Ijichi casts the veil, we’ll sweep the building. Inumaki and Yuuta, you two take the upper levels. We’ll do the bottom half,” orders Maki, gesturing between you and herself.

Immediately, Yuuta objects. “No. I’ll do the bottom half. You and Inumaki should go up together.”

“What?”

“I have a phobia of heights,” lies Yuuta, shamelessly. “It will impact my performance.”

“I have literally never heard you talk about being afraid of heights before.”

“Shake sushi,” agrees Inumaki.

You remain silent, pupils trembling, bottom lip severed between your teeth in a display of bashfulness reserved only for Yuuta’s blatant favoritism, which he wields frequently, in hopes to catch a even a single glimpse of you just as you appear now.

“I’m self-conscious about it,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Thank you both for understanding.”

“Wait! Okkotsu, we didn’t–”

And with that, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you away with him, sprinting into the abandoned love hotel before Maki or Inumaki can prevent you from absconding.

The two of you are laughing, tickled as usual at the effects of pissing Maki the hell off. Consequences will rain down in due time, no doubt, but for now, it feels best to bask in each other’s presence.

Once through the front door, Yuuta halts to an easy jog, guiding you past the cobweb-covered front desk, around the decrepit scraps of the once-ostentatiously decorated lobby, all the way to the far back corner, where a solid, heavy metal door obfuscates the emergency stairway.

“Oh, it looks jammed… Should we–”

Your stumped musing is cut off by the ricocheting cacophony of Yuuta’s boot violating the door. The metal itself bends and warps, caving in on itself in a hurry to make way for the unstoppable force of the sorcerer’s impassioned blow. He didn’t have to activate any cursed energy.

“Let’s go!” Chirps Yuuta, cheerfully.

In another context, maybe, it would be appropriate for his pulse to spike, for his hands to clam, for his breath to quicken, at the prospect of being alone with you. However, the reality of the current situation is that Yuuta is dragging you down into some dark, unknown depth, where neither of you will be disturbed. As you descend the concrete flights, visibility is increasingly hard to come by, and this, too, excites Yuuta. He is now forced to rely more heavily upon his other senses, which naturally prioritizes the scent of your sweat; the sound of your rabbit-paced heartbeat; the feeling of the paper-thin skin of your inner wrist; the taste of his own desire.

The cursed spirit they’re looking for has been wreaking havoc on the surrounding commercial strip, to the point where several businesses have had to draw their shutters in the wake of the love hotel’s primary foreclosure. Evidently, recurring, unresolved muder-suicides did not bode well for business.

“Um…if we’re supposed to be searching for the curse behind all of the couples’ deaths, shouldn’t we be looking in the bedrooms?”

Your voice echoes, tinny, in the thick, humid air of the emergency stairwell. They haven’t hit the bottom yet.

“Eh, maybe. This doesn’t feel like that kind of case, though.”

“Huh? How do you figure?”

Although moving swiftly, at the speed of light, your footfalls make barely a whisper against the aged concrete steps. Still, it’s enough for Yuuta’s hypersensitive ears to pick up on. Deprived of the sight of you, he drinks in the intimation of your existence, greedily.

“Heat rises,” he says, slowing pace as they approach what can only be the door to the boiler room, which has been left ominously ajar. “Cold sinks.”

“...Um, I’m not sure I follow.”

Stealthily, he slithers inside the slender crack between frame and the door itself. The angle of its opening doesn’t even waver. He pulls you along with him, replying as he moves, “Crimes of passion carry a kind of hot, frenetic energy. Panic, impulse, instinct – all of those things have lots of, hmm, friction? Like an explosion. Really hot at first, dangerously hot, and then it fizzles out into nothing.”

Unfamiliar pieces of enormous machinery tower in the dark. As much as you are able to while crouching so low to the floor, you take care not to trip over any errant pipes.

“So this isn’t a hot curse?”

“No,” Yuuta confirms. “The curse–” murder-suicides in a love hotel, how on-the-nose could it be? “–is premeditated by nature. Obsession solidifies over time. To act on that is a calculated choice.”

He stops short. You would’ve crashed straight into his shoulder blades if he weren’t painfully cognizant of your whereabouts at all times. He preemptively steadies you on your feet before you can even begin to stumble.

“At some point in this building, someone,” says Yuuta, quietly, as he cautiously eyes the opaque blackness before them, “spent a lot of time thinking about their beloved.”

“How can you tell?”

“Cold sinks,” Yuuta repeats.

Violence explodes, seemingly, out of nowhere. The curse attacks all at once, aiming perfectly towards you as though it had been lying in wait, stalking your every move. Yuuta always takes point whenever you pair up together, because he always insists on taking the first hit. It is this presupposition that leaves you wide open, vulnerable for attack from behind.

“Yuuta!!” You shriek, desperately dodging the grotesque appendages reaching out to you. Your body hits the floor just seconds shy of what would have been a gory fatality.

When you lift your head to identify the exact form of the curse, you still in uncomprehending terror.

“...Yuuta?”

How can this be?

Not even seconds prior, Yuuta had been a whole, living, breathing, intact person, guiding you as solidly as your own personal anchor. Why, then, does he appear to you now as a corpse, brain matter spilling down his temples, bloated limbs belying days of decay, flesh pale and tender and loose around the bone.

No, no, no. Had you been too late? Had the curse gotten to him first? Are you next?

Despair fills you, overflowing your sensibilities with the intrusive desire to rid the world of your miserable existence. How could you have let him slip through your fingers? How could you be expected to return to any semblance of a life, with Yuuta gone? You don’t deserve a future without Yuuta – you don’t even want to imagine one.

You’ll do what’s right, and offer your life in penance that you failed to protect his own.

Cursed energy welling within you, threatening to tear you apart at the very seams, you are about to implode with all the conviction of an abandoned lover– but a familiar, desperate cry of your name halts your ministrations.

That was Yuuta’s voice calling out to you.

But there he is, lying before you as nothing more than a desecrated body.

Unless…?

Yuuta calls your name again, sharply, this time in a tone adjacent to something scolding. The fear of disappointing Yuuta outweighs all else. It’s enough to snap you back to reality, to clear your clouded faculties and reveal to you the real Yuuta, who stands on guard just a few paces away, living, breathing, sweating, crouching, preparing for action.

“The curse,” he calls, eyes never leaving the thing in front of you. “It’s the curse. Don’t worry, it’s not real. You’re alive.”

“I’m alive?” You parrot incredulously. “That’s your corpse over there!”

“...Huh? My corpse? But I see yours–” He cuts himself off, face going eerily blank. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Close your eyes. Don’t flinch.”

In your defense, you try your best.

Remaining sightless and motionless is difficult as the rest of your senses are inundated with the disgustingly explicit soundtrack of slaughter. The sound of flesh forcibly sliding apart on the edge of Yuuta’s cursed katana is familiar, at this point, but no less gut-wrenching to bear witness to. When he deals the final blow, the evidence sprays all over the front of you, drenching you from head to toe in what should be the curse’s blood.

And yet, the liquid is frigid. Like you’ve been assaulted by the waves of the cruel, immortal sea.

“You can look now.”

Hesitantly, your eyes flutter open. You’re met with the sight of Yuuta, also covered head to toe in the viscous liquid produced by the corpse’s demise. Now that the exorcism has been completed, the preternatural heaviness is lifted from the building. But still, you struggle to breathe.

“Why didn’t you let me fight?” Something horrible announces itself, crowing from an ugly, dark corner of your mind best kept away from public view. “Was I going to slow you down?”

He sheathes in katana without sparing the gory weapon another glance. The space between your bodies is quickly extinguished, as Yuuta crosses the space in a matter of heartbeats. Blood roars in your ears, drowning out all which does not consist of Yuuta’s fixed gaze, Yuuta’s shaky breath, Yuuta’s pallid, sweaty skin, Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta.

“No.”

A large, wet palm meets your cheek. The soft squelch should be repulsive. Your stomach flips for entirely unrelated reasons.

“Why do you think all those murder-suicides happened?”

The question catches you off guard, but you answer, nonetheless. “The curse.”

“What do you think the curse made people see, for them to do something like that?”

You want to ask what the hell this line of questioning has to do with anything, with the mounting intensity in his stare, with the firm hand on your face, calloused thumb rubbing miniscule half-crescents into the crux of your jaw where the bone and flesh is pliant and breakable, could crack open like the shell of a creature already cooked alive, prepared to be split open for gluttonous consumption–

And then, rudely, the memory of mere moments prior hits you:

You’ll do what’s right, and offer your life in penance that you failed to protect his own.

“Oh,” you whimper, pathetically. “They see– the curse makes them see, um, someone special to them.”

“Not just ‘special,’” Yuuta corrects. From this close you can see the faint trail of blue-green veins spiderwebbing their way from his eyebags, metastasizing every which-way, just underneath his skin. “What is a curse?”

“The coalescence of negative energy secreted by human non-sorcerers.” You rattle off the elementary answer without second thought.

“What kind of curse was this?”

The moisture evaporates from your mouth. “A cold one.”

“Why?”

“‘Obsession solidifies over time. To act on that is a calculated choice,’” you mimic back.

Although, your tone doesn’t quite replicate the self-assured way by which Yuuta had originally imparted the information. No, your voice shakes apart, just as disjointed as the rest of your body feels at this moment.

“What did you see when you looked at the curse?”

He already knows. He wants you to say it. You want to plead for mercy, if only to savor the eroticism of begging for something you know will not be spared for you.

“I saw you, Yuuta.”

The curse’s blood is bitter and cold, like soured juice, when it is thrust upon your tongue. Yuuta is uncaring of the gore coating the both of you, the time-sensitive nature of this mission assignment, the way your knees sway and buckle as the adrenaline begins to leak from your body, replaced by a new, even more exhilarating sensation.

Opaque darkness still shrouds the boiler room; and yet, it isn’t enough to prevent your souls from recognizing one another. Hands wrestle with buttons, fingers grapple with zippers, teeth gnash into flesh, and the two of you take each other apart not with the reckless abandon of lovers under the duress of a transient liaison; no, you are methodological, thorough, all-consumed by the well-marinated desire that has been fertilizing from the moment you first came into contact with one another.

Yuuta throws you down to the floor and moves his body at a preternatural speed so that he beats you there, his hand cradling the back of your skull before it can strike the concrete.

“I saw you too,” he huffs into your mouth.

“You were d-dead…” The way you struggle to say the word is cute. You’re so fucking cute. God, he’s no better than a fucking curse.

It’s impossible to curb the temptation to sink his teeth into your neck, eagerly feeding off of the intoxicating effects of your pained, thrilled squeal. “You weren’t,” he murmurs into the abused flesh, pressing a kiss where he’d just gnawed. “You looked close, but you weren’t dead.”

“...Huh…?”

Can you even think right now? Do you understand what he’s saying to you? How could you possibly grasp the implications of what is transpiring, right now, when you’re laid out on the floor, snow-angeling in the blood and guts and gore of a murdered curse, delirious off of a heady combination of lust and adrenaline and fear?

“You were just barely alive. On the edge.” He moans, rocking the hard line of his body into your own. “Do you know what you said to me?”

“Tell me.”

“You asked me to finish the job.”

Back arching off of the grimy, gritty ground, every fiber of your being reaches out for the fingers that tear at the cloth of your uniform as though it is nothing more than some cheap costuming. “You know what? I knew it wasn’t the real you, when it said that. ‘S not like you.”

He’s monologuing to himself, it seems. You are far beyond the hope of verbally communicating in anything other than your strained, hoarse whines.

“You’d never ask me to do that. You’d stay with me until the very end, wouldn’t you?”

Desperately, hopelessly, you nod, your fingernails carving your intentions into the meat of his shoulders. When had his shirt come off? Did you do that?

Are you the one tearing away the last bits of offending clothing, or is that him? Do you growl in stoked desire as he breaches your entrance, or does that inhuman noise come from the both of you?

When Yuuta is buried inside of you, he feels like he’s finally been laid to rest. There is the warm, comforting embrace often described as death – but instead of an eternal bliss found at the conclusion of his life, Yuuta is able to access this euphoria by burying himself inside of you. You are his headstone, his tomb, his coffin: all of you exists to house the death of all of him, and without him inside of you, you would live on in aimless unfulfillment, anxiously awaiting the day a beautiful boy will come to die under your care and linger with you in eternity.

You are–warm, hot, burning up, self-immolating beneath his fingers. Every thrust forward threatens to scald his hips on your molten flesh.

“Fu-fu-fu-fu-fu–” you stutter, body shuddering to life, rising from the ground, seizing and contorting in strange shapes as you struggle and fail to cope with the insurgence of pleasure coursing through you. “Yuu–ta–”

“Promise me.”

“Wha–”

“Promise me,” he hisses, hands coming to your throat. “Promise you’ll stay. You’re too important to me, I c-can’t lose you too, hnnnnn–”

Promise you, I’ll never leave you, is what you are able to only mouth, breath and voice held captive in his unrelenting grasp. Because you cannot voice it entirely, you pour all the contents of your heart and soul into the sentiment. Fingers rising weakly to clasp onto his, you tighten his grip on your windpipe and take comfort in the drowsy haziness that cradles your consciousness.

When he comes, he holds you to him like he’s afraid you’re going to crawl off and die somewhere else if he doesn’t keep you right where you are, crushed against, his shivering frame, so tightly bound to him that he can hear your diaphragm contract and expand, over and over and over again, each breath cut short by a wheeze or a sob.

Through it all, he cradles you. Naked, bruised, and forever scarred from the sight of not-Yuuta’s rotting corpse, you cling to him and release your sorrows into the dark, empty abyss of the boiler room.

Back and forth, he rocks your body, soothing your nervous system into an illusion of safety. There is no such thing as “safety,” not for jujutsu sorcerers – but together, with limbs intertwined as one, this is the closest you can come to fooling yourselves into hoping, one day, for a safe place. A safe person, even.

“Shhh,” he simpers, thumb swiping your cheek, which is damp from an unholy mixture of cursed blood, sweat, spit, and tears. “We’re together. It’s all okay.”

“T-together…”

“Yeah. Just you and me.”

;

“You don’t think that’s an issue?”

“I’m not saying there isn’t an issue. But we should tread lightly, here. We don’t know what could happen if we interfere.”

“If we don’t interfere, the newbie might die.”

“It won’t get to that point. I won’t let it happen. Oi, don’t blow smoke in my face. That’s unladylike.”

“Don’t lecture me on what’s ‘ladylike,’ cocksucker.”

“Wow! That burns!”

“Come here, I’ll show you what else burns.”

Lingering outside the door to the infirmary, you shift your weight from foot to foot, unsure of the appropriate course of action to take. Clearly, Gojo and Ieiri are in the middle of a conversation that is not meant to be heard by prying ears – not that you can make heads or tails of what they’re talking about, anyways.

All you wanted to do was come see Ieri for your weekly check-up, as was customary following the love hotel mission. The adrenaline must have numbed your pain receptors in the moment, because as soon as you’d arrived back on campus, your entire body felt like you’d been through a grinder.

You were kinda confused, at first, because you didn’t even engage the curse in combat. In due time, of course, you remembered what–or who–had actually bruised your ribs, broken your skin, sprained your joints, left you carrying the contours of his wanting.

Why were they talking about you dying, anyways? Yuuta saved your life. Nothing was going to happen to you as long as he was by your side.

“Hey.”

Jumping out of your skin has started to feel good, kind of. You look forward to Yuuta’s unceremonious greetings as he creeps up on you in silence, futilely waiting for you to detect his concealed presence.

“H-hi,” you demure. Why are you shy? He’s been so far inside of you he practically fused into your skeleton. Blushing because he caught you unawares is ridiculous.

“Aren’t you going to go in?”

Wondering how he knows what you’re here for is pointless. Equally as useless is trying to deduce how he was able to figure out your recurring appointment time. He’s Yuuta – it’s natural for him to acquire knowledge about you, as easily as one picks low-hanging fruit from a tree.

“Umm, I think they’re talking about something.”

He frowns. “About what?”

You hesitate. Should you tell him what you heard? “Ah, I don’t know...”

“Are you sure?”

You remain silent, unsure of how to proceed. Part of you wants to bare your innards at all times, whenever Yuuta is around. It feels natural, like a rabbit’s cowering. On the other hand…

Somehow, the thought of telling Yuuta the truth–yeah, Gojo-sensei and Ieiri-sensei think there’s a chance I might die soon–would not end well for anyone involved. If there was something you truly needed to know, you’re sure your senseis would tell you.

Right?

“Please trust me,” you whisper, only feeling a little guilty. You’re doing it to protect him. If something dangerous is going to happen to you, Yuuta shouldn’t be involved at all. He must live. You must make sure of it.

Reluctantly, he acquiesces, although he insists on accompanying you to your check-up that week. Strangely, neither Gojo nor Ieiri seem surprised that he is here with you, and make no effort to question why. Yuuta is allowed to linger at your sides as Ieiri takes your vitals, reviews the status of your various injuries, and even holds your hand when she scans your cursed energy levels. Thankfully, you are on track to make a perfect recovery.

In fact, not only are you replenishing the strength and ability that had been impaired during the love hotel mission–you are regenerating cursed energy at rates which exceed your natural capacities.

When Ieiri relays this to you, Gojo, who has been lingering in the infirmary for some unknown reason (you suspect it’s simply to annoy Ieiri with his very presence) speaks up: “Do you know what that means, kid?”

“Um…” You start, nervous. Everyone’s eyes are on you. It feels like you’re under a microscope. “I’m moving up a rank?”

Gojo bursts into a fit of giggles, doubling over at the waist. “Wow, what an opportunist! Haha, maybe in the future, if your cursed energy continues to compound exponentially. I’m asking you about the cause. Any idea why you’re suddenly overflowing with power?”

“No.” Your answer is as truthful as it is anxious.

“Typically, a dramatic increase in output like this only occurs after a Binding Vow. Make any life-or-death promises, recently?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, the way Gojo says it. You can tell because his crow’s feet dip down just far enough away from underneath his blindfold that you can tell whenever he smiles with his eyes. And he is smiling, after he cracks the joke. You’re also able to intuit when he stops smiling, as the depressions on his face smooth out into a careful blankness. You are thirty seconds too late to the punchline. Instead of laughing along, you remain damningly silent, and Yuuta shifts uncomfortably at your side.

“Okay,” says Gojo, clapping his hands. “Alright.”

Although you’re fully clothed in your school uniform, it makes you feel chillingly exposed when what feels like all Six of his Eyes bore into the collection of dark marks ringing your neck in a brutal, makeshift collar. Those were not, in fact, the work of a curse.

Yuuta fidgets with the flimsy paper lining the examination bed. You kick your feet like a child in time out.

“You owe me seven thousand yen,” Shoko deadpans.

“Hey! Didn’t we say forty-five?”

“Don’t kid around.”

Am I in trouble? The terrified plea swells to the front of your mouth, begging to escape. You force the words to sit, stay, and curdle on your tongue.

“Can we go now?” Asks Yuuta, uncharacteristically direct.

Given the odd gravity in the room, you don’t expect Gojo’s easy wave of his hand, dismissing the two of you with a flippant hum. Not having to be told twice, you hightail it out of the infirmary, grateful to be released from the constant invasion of privacy and security that is a prolonged existence within the reach of Gojo’s Six Eyes.

Finally alone once more, the training grounds are a welcome reprieve for you and Yuuta, who crash into the grass clearing hand-in-hand, heartbeats synced.

“Did we make a Binding Vow? When we…you know…”

Yuuta’s voice trails off, lamely.

“What if we did? Would you regret it?”

“Huh? No, of course not! It’s just…well–”

“Well, what?”

“That’s kind of permanent,” Yuuta whispers, dark pools of obsidian sorrow holding your gaze in its cruel, captivating clutches. “And we don’t know what will happen if it breaks.”

For one second, the rawness of it hits you. Fear washes down your back, prickling your flesh, raising goosebumps, locking your spine rigidly into place. The two of you had certainly made a life-or-death promise, infused with cursed energy and blood and…other…bodily fluids. To inadvertently perform a Binding Vow meant that the sheer intensity behind both of your wills was purely, wholly devoted to the promise.

Which is why you take a step closer to him, voice steady. “I didn’t make that promise with the intention to break it. Ever.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Don’t…you can’t be sure of that.”

“I am.”

“You won’t be able to guarantee it.”

“I will.”

Familiarly calloused hands grab your shoulders, jostling you with charged intention. “You don’t get it! My favorite person in the whole world already left me once. If that happens again, I can’t… I don’t know…”

“Yuuta.” You don’t have to lay a finger on him for his entire body to stand at attention, drawing tall and taught, when you call his name. “I will never leave you, even if I die.”

The ensuing kiss tastes like metal.

Despite the passionate fervor with which he devours you, his mouth his cold, and his digits even more so as they dig into your cheeks, your throat, your waist, your chest, groping and pulling and kneading your flesh to loosen the rigor mortis that has arrested your willingness.

“D-don’t, ah, make any m-more marks…”

Your protest is, at best, unconvincing, the person least of all convinced being yourself, as Yuuta’s teeth and tongue on the tender flesh of your neck make you feel like you’re about to leave your body. “Hnng–Gojos-sensei already knows, I think.”

“Good.” He’s crazed, nipping and slurping at your sensitive soft bits like a man starved. “Let him know. Everyone should know. I shouldn’t even–” he kisses “–have–” he bites “–to say it–” he licks you in between speaking, as though it goes against the grain of his being to part ways with you for more than just a few jagged inhalations.

The ground hits you hard, reprimanding you for your clumsiness with a firm impact on your backside. Yuuta pursues with haste, hands slamming down on either side of your head, ripping the grass in retribution.

“Yuuta,” you hiss, hands flying to his dark mop of hair, trying to reel him back – in vain, of course. “We are outside. In the middle of the day. Anyone could walk by!”

“Don’t care.”

His eyes are glazed, half-lidded, pupils blown wide and deeply dark as a gunshot wound, uncaring of your anxiety as he attempts to dive back into you.

“Wait! What if someone sees me?” Now, he rears back. “I don’t want anyone else to see, Yuuta… only you get to see me like this.”

Even the ants traipsing across the clearing stop dead in their tracks, rendered motionless, silent, at the abrupt onslaught of highly charged cursed energy that washes through every living and non-living thing within a five-mile radius.

“Okay.”

Wordlessly, your world upends as you are thrown over a wide shoulder clad in spotless, wrinkled white. You’ve always thought it was funny – how Yuuta’s uniform never managed to permanently stain itself with any of the gore he frequently encountered, and yet, there was always a noticeable depression in the seams, ever-lurking, complicating the otherwise flawless expanse, evoking a sense of pity.

Even when the shirt flies off, abandoned to crumple sadly in the corner of his bedroom, you can’t get its image out of your head. That spotless white. Those gleaming gold buttons dripping in iridescent rivulets down the front of the garment. Only within the intricate designs etched into their surface is one able to glean the barest hint of blood, staining the metal a pale crimson. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t notice it.

But you have always sought out his ugly, twisted parts. Even when he tries to hide. Even when he might duck from them himself.

That’s okay.

That’s why he has you.

When he bites you so hard that the wound draws blood; when his palms squeeze around your windpipe so deftly that you lose vision; when pins down your bruised hips, ignoring their wriggling avoidance; when his unquiet nature makes itself known, eclipsing the carefully bashful performance he puts on for his peers so that he might be liked, or loved, even–that is when you feel most connected to him. That is when your affections burn brightest.

And during the comedown, as he holds you close and rocks your brutalized body back and forth and back again, you are well aware that it is he himself who he seeks to soothe.

He doesn’t know, you realize, broken out of your post-coital mental haze with a pointed moment of clarity.

Yuuta has no clue what lurks inside the haunted catacombs of his soul.

What does it say about you, then, that his naivete only serves to further incense your want, smoldering like an inferno brewing at the base of a pyre, threatening to engulf your sorry corpse in entirety?

;

As third year trudges on, instruction takes less time in the classroom, or on campus. More frequently, you find yourself out on missions from sun-up to sundown, running around Tokyo-to and even surrounding prefectures. The grades of the curses you go up against only increase with time, and so, to, does your proximity to mortal danger.

Through it all, Yuuta is present. Indignantly so. Despite your rank as a semi-special grade sorcerer, you have yet to embark solo on an assignment. The pair of you are one combative unit, at this point so intertwined in sentiment and instinct that rarely is it necessary to reach for verbal exchange while engaged in battle. It is as though the reserve of cursed energy you draw from is a pool shared between you, a combination of your innate abilities plus an additional overflow, supplied by the Binding Vow you had consummated all those months ago.

So close are you, now, that Yuuta grows comfortable – confident, even – with your hold on his proverbial leash. These days, he is less neurotic when you inquire as to his whereabouts. Your prying questions provoke within him nothing other than a deep-seated sense of reassurance. He no longer doubts where he stands with you, as he once did when you were still a fresh-faced, mid-year transfer adjusting to life at Tokyo Tech.

In retrospect, he recognizes that he should never have let his guard down.

It’s his fault, really. Entirely his fault. The extra strength provided by the powerful effects of the Binding Vow deluded him into a false sense of security.

He shouldn’t have been so careless with your life. He shouldn’t have strayed so far from your side. He shouldn’t have let you out of his sight. He shouldn’t have left you alone, even if it was only for a split second–not even.

Once again, he has failed to save the most important person in his life. Somehow, losing you is worse than losing Rika. He is no longer a child. He possessed both the skill and ability to save you.

And yet, he had been absent in your time of need.

The one time you’d been off on a mission without him. The one and only time. Principle Yaga’s sorry excuse was that the higher-ups found it strange that you, as a semi-special grade, had never completed a solo assignment. Apparently, your rank was being threatened if you refused any longer to display independent capability.

Well. Now there’s no rank for you to claim, anymore.

After news of your death reaches him, he roams campus like an aimless specter, as though he is the one who has been robbed of life.

In a way, he has. Half of his being has perished. He limps, lopsided, dragging the phantom weight of your body with him wherever he goes.

It takes a while to get used to the absence of your physical, living, breathing manifestation. As a fellow sorcerer, you have been wholly eradicated from the fabric of his reality.

But as a spirit…?

Death is not enough to break a Binding Vow – this, Yuuta knows better than anyone. He retains his augmented cursed abilities, along with your presence. The two of you join once more in battle, as he summons you to protect and guard him in life as he failed to do for you. Your selfless nature has never been more clearly evident. Not a single call goes unanswered, not a single need of his unmet.

Is this a haunting?

No, he doesn’t think so.

When the two of you had still been skittish and shy around one another, nothing more than a pair of innocently covetous children, you’d dared him to reflect on his relationship with Rika. What had been translated to him as a haunting, you reimagined as something more corporeal, something genuine, something worthy of gratitude, and love.

This is how he chooses to think of you – the both of you, together, still joined in perfect union. No matter the fact that you will watch him age, change, develop, and eventually die, one day, should he be so lucky. You do not haunt his waking hours. You do not terrorize his dreams.

You love him in a way that transcends the bounds of space and time.

He has not been cursed. Rather, he has been blessed with your unconditional love.

To earn true forgiveness, he must show you his, as well. You must occupy his every waking thought. You will invade his every intention. You are at the forefront of his mind when he rises with the dawn, and the memory of your breath against the shell of his ear whispers to him good night. You dress him. You urge him to sustenance. You machinate his combat. You heal his wounds. You wipe his tears when he sobs, alone, terribly alone, sobbing into his knees after each time the life of a friend meets a senseless, violent conclusion.

You are still there when he wraps a rough, harried palm around his throbbing arousal, thrusting up into an elusive, now long-gone pleasure. You guide his hands’ journey across the hazardous dips and valleys of his rib cage, the grotesque concave of his stomach, the sharp blades of his hip bones. His skeleton threatens to crawl outside of his flesh. It yearns for something beyond this senseless cycle of bloodshed, grief, and rage.

Never does he feel closer to salvation than when he is on the precipice of ecstasy, dehydrated, underfed, delirious, heart beating so fast that it limits his vision, his lung capacity. When he occupies this liminal space, it is not the brink of orgasm which he straddles. As he approaches climax, he yearns not for an explosion of wet heat, but for the euphoric embrace of a final ending: your arms around him once more, real, tangible, warm.

Until then, he will trudge onwards. Miserably alive. Cold inside and out. Numb to physical pain, constantly inundated with the wounds inflicted on his spirit, his sentiments, his soul.

Solace finds him in the fact that you committed to remain by his side, forever. How could he wallow in total despair when this remains true?

You chose this, after all.

You chose him.

You did.

Didn’t you?

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volttrashz · 3 months

Note

Ehem ehem... more bully miguel x reader pls... ehem ehem

(Make miguel punish the reader for accidentally making 5 questions wrong... the punishment is.... miguel forcing reader to pretend that he is absent but in reality, reader is under Miguel's desk sucking him off as a sorry for his mistakes!!)

>_<

ʙᴜʟʟʏ! ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ ʜᴀʀᴀ x ɴᴇʀᴅ! ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (possible gn.)

cw:ᴍᴅɴɪ. ʙʟᴏᴡᴊᴏʙ. ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ. ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ.

"Are you fucking serious right now?!"

Miguel's voice boomed as he shoved his marked-up paper into your face. Your glasses are hitting the bridge of your nose, giving you an unpleasant feeling. You could tell Miguel was mad. The way his voice sounded, he was going to beat the shit out of you. "You must be more of an idiot than I thought. You can even be capable of doing my damn homework correctly." Miguel aggressively said. I looked at you with an emotion you couldn't quite grasp. "I thought you said you knew what you were doing?" "I did! I just got distracted a little while doing it. That's all."You reply back, mentally slapping yourself for how shaky and wobbly your voice sounds.

You just had so many things on your plate. You rushed through Miguel's homework literally this morning. Not even double-checking for the matter. You knew some would be wrong but it was way more than you anticipated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't. It was by accident, I swear!" You replied in defense. You watched him stare at you. For a second, you thought he must've zoned out the way he looked at you so intensely. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?" He tilts his head looking at you like you were some sort of pathetic excuse of person. "I'll make it up to you, I swear! I'll do your next few big projects coming up. How about that? Ill um. I'll carry your things for your next class! I'll-" He scoffed, hearing her nonsense rambling on and on. To the point you probably didn't even know what you were talking about anymore. "You talk too much. It's annoying."

"Such a pretty mouth and you can't even use it for good things...what a waste."

You close your mouth at that, not knowing exactly how to respond. Miguel watched your slumped form. "Hey don't look so down. I know exactly what you can do to make makeup for it." He smiled, seeing how his words piqued your interest immediately. Perhaps he would let you pay for his lunch for the week?

"You want me to what?!"

Miguel's expression didn't falter at your words. Acting as if he didn't just tell you to suck him off in class. There's no way he could be serious. Sure you guys have had your fair share of...intimate moments, but in class?! Where the chance of being caught is bound to happen if you make so much as a peep. Plus, you would be missing will your favorite lectures!

"I'm not doing that. Absolutely not."

"No [name] in class today? He's that last person I expected to miss my class.."

He was right. It was strange for you to miss his class. Too bad you're busy on your knees hunched under a desk. Miguel's desk. His legs spread open and his zipper on display waiting for you to hurry up and pull it down. Before you can, though Miguel's shoe nudges your leg. You can tell he's getting impatient. Better not keep him waiting any longer.

Rolling your eyes at the action, you quietly pull down the zipper. Revealing his boxer's underneath. You could tell he was straining beneath them, an obvious tent giving that away. Is this really turning him on that much? Interesting. You let your thoughts wonder as you make quick work pulling off his boxers. His cock slightly slapping you on the face as you do. Slightly flinching in surprise but looking with lust as his cock was now released from its confines, standing hard and completely erect before you.

You began to leave gentle kisses on his length. Enjoying how his thighs seem slightly tense at the action. You began to kiss his sticky tip that leaked with pre. Your tongue licked up and down his shaft, feeling the veins of his base. You do this a couple more times before you engulf his length into the heat of your mouth, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You gag slightly but proceed nonetheless, enjoying how he shudders from the sensation.

You continued bobbing your head on his cock. Trying to keep your noise to a minimum as you try to get some relief of your own. You feel him throb in your mouth. You could tell he was struggling to keep his composure in front of everyone. You continue anyway. Not minding how his hands entangled with your hair to push you further.

It doesn't take long for him to finish. Your eyes rolled back, as his load shot inside your throat, painting it completely. The feeling has you finishing almost immediately after. Coming off with a quiet pop panting, before you continue sucking on his tip. You feel him try to push you off. "¿Qué estás haciendo, idiota? Stop!" You hear him whisper in Spanish, almost sounding like a whine. Hearing slight panic in his voice. He was not expecting you to start again.Deciding not to want to get on his bad side (but also not wanting to be caught). You stop.

Maybe you'll get his homework wrong more often..

¿Qué estás haciendo, idiota? - what are you doing you idiot?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #atsv miguel #miguel smut #male reader #atsv smut #gn reader #bully miguel x male reader

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 3 months

Text

w.count: 2.4k (whoops. it got away from me)

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. she's also not secretive about the fact that when you're around, it isn't baizhu either.

living in liyue for as long as you have should've meant your body was used to traversing the constant air influxes of going up and down mountains and large rock formations by now. however, contrary to what you believe to be the case, your body simply did not listen. really, it didn't listen to anything you want it to do.

it was always something. lightheadedness, severe headaches, congestion that made your eyes ache, stiff and swollen joints and muscles, small scrapes and bruises from whatever tumble you may have taken. anything that could happen always seemed to be the case with you when you walked through the door to bubu pharmacy.

it took no time at all for herbalist gui to learn your face and name. even qiqi could remember your face with her poor memory. with your regular visits, gui first suspected you were faking your aliments. of course, you could easily see how he could come to such an accusation. even you thought once or twice that you were just overthinking things, that it wasn't bad... until it was, and your conditions worsen with no kind of treatment at all.

the first time you met baizhu, you were standing rather unamused- and slightly zoned out- from yet another lecture from gui on how you need to be more careful or else you'll make the pharmacy run out of stock. he should be glad that business is practically booming with you around. instead, he was laying it on thick today... not that you were paying much attention.

"ah, so this is who the mysterious person qiqi claims needs herbs so frequently is."

you don't think you'll ever be able to forget how amused he sounded from behind you. or the look on gui's face as his boss interrupts his rambling that definitely could look like berating to anyone who wasn't used to seeing him interact with your near-daily medicine runs. you should've had a kamera on hand for such an expression.

you'll never forget exactly how awed you were to see the owner of such a renowned pharmacy for the first time either. a part of you was almost skeptical of how young he was, but then again age never equated to intelligence anyway, so that thoughtless nonsense was easily tossed out of your mind.

"yes, i guess that would be me," you sheepishly told him. "my apologies for the... neediness? for lack of better words."

"not at all. what is medicine good for if not to treat someone? it's actually quite relieving to finally put a face with a name."

"qiqi sspeakss of them sso often i almosst asssumed they were another one of her missunderstandingss." the secondary voice that no doubt came from the white snake around the doctor's neck shocked you for a moment. blinking as if taking in the absurdity of it, you easily accepted that the snake could talk.

this was teyvat where people could be born hybrids, having psychical traits of of species of being. not to mention liyue, where you knew of at least two adeptus running around the harbor. this shouldn't come as much of a shock.

"sorry about that too," the silent- i think?- you refused to tack on to the end of your sentence was left unspoken but clearly seen in your eyes. was that something to apologize for? in truth, the whole situation felt quite awkward so all you could do was talk to fill the silence. the silence that wasn't very silent anyway.

you had since stepped off to the side so gui could talk to another patron coming to pick up their prescription with the babble of the city just outside. if you didn't feel it would be rude, you would've just left and called it a day- even if you hadn't actually gotten your needed medicine from the herbalist at the desk yet. he had been too busy nagging you to hand it over before baizhu's sudden appearance.

luckily for you, baizhu was also intelligent enough he could read a room.

"please wait here. i'll go and fetch whatever medicine you need today." you make a small noise of acknowledgment before offering a small okay as he walks behind the counter and takes a paper from gui that probably had recommended herbs and salves scribbled on it for your treatment.

feeling like you just fumbled the first interaction with the pharmacy's owner, you sighed and pushed a finger to your temples before going outside. leaning yourself on the railing just outside the building, you bore yourself into counting the steps leading up to it. always getting a different answer each time since there were so many. you were so invested in your stair counting that when baizhu reappears in your peripherals with a small drawstring pouch of presumed herbs, you feel yourself flinch.

"i didn't mean to startle you," he chuckles as you gently take the pouch from him, using your other hand to dig around for the mora you know you now owe.

"it's fine. i was too engrossed in counting."

"counting?"

"the stairs."

"did you come to a final count?" he entertains.

"not even close," you say as you place the correct amount of shiny mora into his palm while watching chengsheng readjust herself by slithering once around his shoulders.

after that day, baizhu was around more often when you would stop by. your semi-normal medical pick-ups soon extend into medical treatment personally offered by baizhu in the pharmacy's back room, along with prolonged conversations to fill the free time he could offer. it was during these conversations that chengsheng decided that among the humans living in liyue, you were her favorite.

she preferred you over others so much that when you would come by the pharmacy, she would immediately demand to coil around you instead of her normal seat upon baizhu's shoulders. she would only keep to baizhu when you were around if his chi levels were running wild and she was confined to her job of maintaining them.

today was no exception to her favoritism.

you had once again shown up to bubu pharmacy, but this time not for whatever ails you, but for your annual checkup. you never used to bother with them, but shockingly enough gui had lectured you one year about it- so, to save yourself the ear strain it would be best to just get it over with.

walking up the outrageously long stairs to the pharmacy entrance, you sigh and rub your neck with a rather lackluster greeting to the open space of the front desk.

"okay gui, i'm here." you almost sigh, like keeping track with your health was such an inconvenience. dropping your arm and raising your view, you see all three of the bubu population together- which was almost rare considering they all have their own agendas to deal with near daily. "wow," you start with a smile at seeing them all, "it's like a party in here."

gui shakes his head at your lame attempt at what he assumes is a joke while qiqi abandons her post to waltz up to your side and grab the fabric that hung around your waist; a habit she's developed since you've been around more often. you're not sure why she does it, maybe it makes her feel secure or something, you weren't sure. you don't mind it regardless. you always accept her small act of presumed affection with your palm resting on her talisman tagged hat and small greeting.

baizhu blithely crosses his arms over his chest at seeing how attached qiqi has become of you. he has the hunch that even outside of the pharmacy you were pretty well-known because you were someone easily likeable, but to capture the attention of his little qiqi? color him impressed. still, he was pleased you had formed a connection with her and gui. even baizhu himself found himself enjoying your company more than he did before. each time was better than the last.

"it's lovely to see you again," the owner speaks as he uncrosses his arms into a more relaxed manner of stance. "gui informed me that you can be rather stubborn when it comes to these kinds of matters. I was worried i'd have to go and find you myself."

"i don't think you would have to go that far. even if i didn't show up today, i would've been back eventually. then you could've tied me up and thrown me into a forced state of compliance."

"that wouldn't be very hospitable of a doctor, i'm afraid."

a small tug on your hip directs your attention downwards as qiqi looks up at you.

"doctor baizhu will be taking care of you today," she says slowly, almost lethargically. you blink a few times in confusion for a moment before nodding to her.

"really now? what an a honor." it wasn't often baizhu did things like this, such common checkups were handled mostly by gui. you wonder if chengsheng kicked up some sort of fuss about it? 'nevermind,' you shake your head and internalize your thoughts, 'it doesn't matter.'

"best not to waste much more time," baizhu says, rounding the counter and coming up to your side before replacing your hand with his own on qiqi's head. "run along now, qiqi." she's quick to obey and gui returns to whatever it is he does all day long. you're ushered out and soon back to the room you've been in thousands of times before.

just like normal, you sat yourself down in one of the two stools baizhu keeps at his desk. just like normal, baizhu offers you tea for your time and just like normal you accept. just like normal, he walks back and forth along the many shelves of herbs and equipment for what he needs for the day's work. and just like normal, chengsheng is slithering down baizhu's outstretched arm, onto the desk and then quickly up yours as you offer it to her.

"aw, i've missed you too chengsheng," you coo. she always hisses when you treat her like a common snake, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. another perk of being the favorite.

"it'ss just nicce to not be coiled around a man who smellss like grasss all the time," she plays off as she coils comfortably around your shoulders and even curling up your head to pass through your hair. most definitely forming knots in her wake.

as baizhu comes back to your side, you watch as he places his required items down.

"it never gets easier," you say.

"and what exactly are you talking about?"

"how... empty you look without chengsheng."

baizhu chuckles.

"yes, well, it feels as empty as it looks." he looks at the pearl white snake around you, clearly nuzzling into you more than him, and he smiles warmly at it. "she looks much better wrapped around you, than me."

"uh-huh," you scoff, bringing your palm up to cup her head and lightly nudging her away from your ear. she was making your skin tingle with her scales against the small sensitive limb. "i totally believe you."

"i've never spoken a word of a lie to you."

you always applaud yourself for not absolutely losing your cool for the things that could come out of baizhu's mouth. the way he can easily say things that were well past embarrassing without so much as blinking was almost awe-inspiring. if you didn't know any better, you'd think sometimes he was flirting with you- but it was baizhu and he was always kind and polite to anyone. that was just who he was.

your checkup runs smoothly and even though nothing can fix your accident-prone lifestyle, you were still healthy and ready to take on more scraps and falls.

now, the hardest part of every pharmacy visit was about to commence. convincing chengsheng to return to her contractor without much fuss.

"chengsheng," you nervously say her name with a slight shake in your voice. she was always a sassy snake, but when she didn't get to indulge in what she wanted, which was simply snuggly laying around your shoulders for just a while longer... she could be a handful. "you know you can't leave with me."

she meets you nowhere with silence- not even attempting to meet you halfway somewhere. nope, she's leaving you high and dry. baizhu watches with half amused eyes, a hand on his hip and the other reached out to brush against her scales.

"what if i walked our dear y/n home? would you willingly part with them then?"

"what?" baizhu had never walked you home before, you always insisted he not since he was a busy man, and it wasn't like you couldn't take care of yourself. this opportunity easily hooked the snake's attention as she lifted her previously curled head and looked at her contractor- you know, the man she was supposed to be unwaveringly loyal to.

"do we have a deal?" he chided, knowing that eventually she was going to let you go one way or the other. whether it be now by him prying her off you physically or walking you home and having her come back willingly. her forked tongue flicked out before coiling one full rotation around your neck and up your head, so her reptilian 'chin' sat on your crown.

"if i must," which was chengsheng for 'yes, we do'.

so, with you and chengsheng waiting at the top of the stone stairs, baizhu popped inside to inform gui and qiqi he would be stepping out for a bit. qiqi had peaked around the open front and waved goodbye to you, which you returned happily before baizhu came to your side. his hand came to hover at your back, so close you could almost feel his palm but never actually touching, and offered you start taking steps ahead of him.

back from inside the pharmcy at the desk, qiqi walked back to gui's side as they both watched their boss walk off with you.

"qiqi likes when y/n is around," she speaks monotonously- but she meant it.

"yeah," gui agrees, watching both your heads disappear further down the stairs with chengsheng still clinging to you. "you aren't the only one," he chuckles.

chengsheng picks favorties, and she's not secretive about it. her contractor, however- even if he thinks he's being slick about it- cannot hide that he does too.

and wouldn't you believe it? all evidence always leads back to you.

#genshin impact #baizhu x reader #baizhu fluff #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #baizhu x y/n #baizhu x you #genshin impact baizhu #baizhu headcanons #baizhu drabble #baizhu fic

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velvrei · 1 year

Text

breathless

pairing : sub!xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary : xavier wants to be choked and slapped

warnings : nsfw, choking, sub!xavier, begging, overstimulation if you quint, slapping, praise kink, degradation kink, use of nicknames (slut, etc.)

an addiction. that was the only proper word to describe how xavier thorpe felt about you.

the way you made him feel, the way your hands felt, the way you moaned his name as he pleases you after begging countless times, it was all apart of his addiction, his incessant devote to you.

but something just didn’t feel right.

you and him had a very tight relationship, you were always together, always touching, only cherishing each other.

but lately, xavier felt someone was off in the sex department. he was obviously always satisfied, but he felt the urge to spice it up. he needed more from you.

it was a normal thing when he approached you, as you sat in his dorm continuing homework, at his desk table. “y/n?”

his voice was timid, softer than usual which caused you to turn around and give him your attention. “what’s up?”

he sat slowly onto your bed, forming a soft dent as he placed his hands into his lap. you noticed his awkwardness, “you okay?”

you felt the need to tend to him as you usually did. you quickly put away your work and walked over to him and sat down in the empty space next to him.

you had no idea what this was leading to but you assumed it was something that was bothering him for a while.

“i feel like you’re holding back from me.” he blabbed suddenly. you raised an eyebrow, “holding back? how so?”

“well, whenever we have sex, don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing but i just feel like it’s missing something. it feels like you’re not telling me about some of the things you’re into.” his confession made you sigh. he wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with what you were into.

“you’re right, xavier. i am holding back some of my kinks. i didn’t want to freak you out or scare you awa-“

“y/n?” he spoke, quickly, stopping your rambling. “yes, love?” his heart fluttered at the nickname.

“show me.”

you almost choked on your spit, not expecting such a direct statement to come from your shy and submissive boyfriend. “show you?”

“show me what you’re into. please,” the sound of him begging made you clench your thighs. you agreed before reminding him of the safe word and sitting yourself up.

you found yourself straddling his lap, he let alone whimpered at that as the friction made him harder than he already was.

he kissed you, hard. his hands snuck to your waist and then trailed downward, touching and grabbing your ass, taking the time to now kiss you deeper and with tongue at your surprise.

he was getting weaker by the second, his whining continued as you began rolling your hips against his to get some type of friction. his head fell onto your shoulder, “oh, baby,” he moaned after pulling from the kiss.

his sounds encouraged you. you grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it earning a louder moan, trailing hot kisses down his neck. “you’re so pretty, xavi,” you praised, as you normally would.

“fuck,” he panted, “please, y/n.”

you smiled down at him and yanked on his hair once again earning a breathy whimper, “please what, baby?”

he cried, “please, touch me, please, y/n, please, baby,” he rambled nonsense in attempt to get you to give him more.

“someone’s needy today, hmm?” you spoke, but still gave him what he wanted, you began to unbuckle and take off his pants. “yes, yes, please, y/n, i’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he begged quietly as he felt your hands slide underneath his boxers and he sits up a bit so you could partially slide them off of his fragile frame.

xavier’s dick was throbbing and you could feel it, you grabbed it harshly. “fuck, y/n, can- you um-“ he could barely speak real words as the pressure was a release considering he had been hard at the thought of you for the past hour.

“can i what, baby?” he was at a loss for words. you pushed a couple strands of hair away from his now sweating face, placing soft kisses onto his neck. he whined when you compelled a hickey, almost giving up at his attempt to form words. “can you choke me, please, i- i want it so bad.”

you we’re thrilled to say the least. you started pacing his cock at a slow pace, one hand on his dick and the other sliding up his body and stopping at his throat. you gently gripped it, the pathetic sound he made was sent straight to your core.

“you’re so perfect, zavi,” you praise made him nervous as his dick pulsated in your hand, small drops of precum getting on your hand as you sped up your pace.

you wrapped your hand around his shaft and circled your thumb over his leaking tip. he cried out, lolling his head backward. fuck he was so hot, all bothered and riled up. you brought his face closer, kissing him eagerly so he let out a lewd whine.

“y/n, y/n, that feels so good,” he panted, almost completely out of breath, “faster, please, baby.” his begs egged you on, so you gave him what he partially what he wanted. you pumped him fast enough to make him moan but not as fast to where he could cum. he knew what you were doing, he’d played that game before.

it made you wet how such a tall, masculine man was in front of you, at your mercy with the most submissive look on his face and the spiciest words leaving his plump lips. “look at you. all hot and bothered. pathetic.” he felt embarrassed, but his dick was throbbing even harder in your hand so you took it as a good thing.

“y/n- fuck- say that again, please. that’s so hot,” those words awoke something inside of you, it made you feel as if it was now your job to control and degrade xavier and milk him for all he had. you let go of his throat and used both of your hands to pump his dick.

“you’re so fucking good, xavier. such a good boy. makes me think you’re a slut, too.” he let out the loudest moan you’d ever heard leave his mouth. “oh my fucking god, please. please, please say that again. jesus christ,” his words slurred together, he mumbled some kind of gibberish. you ran a finger through his silky brown hair, yanking it harshly as he moaned and groaned at the sudden pain and friction.

he felt himself nearing his edge, he was so close, but it couldn’t just happen he had to be taken there.

“y/n, i’m so close,” he whimpered, “can you- can you- um- can you slap me. please, it’s all i’m asking for from you.” you smiled and increased your pace, giving him a harsh slap across the face, then choking him once again. he yelled multiple swear words, gibberish sounding profanities and a long string of pornographic moans.

not even ten second after, he came with a loud cry, white sticky cum all over your hand. “so good. you did so well my love,” his head fell onto your shoulder, he was still cumming and he was making a huge mess all over your clothing and bed. he murmured a bunch of ‘thank you’s, rambling on about how pretty you were and how thankful he was for you.

“god, i didn’t realize how much of a mess i made. i’m so sorry,” he started but you placed a finger over his lips. “don’t apologize, sweetheart. i enjoyed every second of that.”

he smiled and brought you into a kiss. his lips were soft and glossy, and when he pulled away his eyes were filled with pure love, as you kissed his forehead then stood so you could clean him up.

you grabbed a damp towel and wiped up him, which he winced at, “sorry, it probably seems colder than it actually is,”

after you finished cleaning him up, he threw on some pajama pants and cuddled up next to you. he was always the little spoon, and that day was no different. he grabbed your face gently so he could look at you, “i love you. so much.”

“i love you more, xavi.”

#xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #wednesday #smut imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x y/n #wednesday addams #wednesday show #wednesday series #xavier smut #velvrei #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe x y/n #wednesday imagine #xavier thorpe fanfic

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tender-rosiey · 2 years

Note

I love possessive men so can I ask for jealousy headcanons with Nanami Sukuna and Gojo? What they do when someone gets a lil tooooo close with their crush/partner? Hehe 😜

— WHEN THEY ARE JEALOUS

includes Gojo, Nanami, and Sukuna

ᴀ/ɴ: ohoho let us love possessive men together my dear also i am feeling silly send help

GOJO SATORU:

he trusts you a ton (obviously)

and he is pretty secure in himself and knows that you love him 🫶

AND he is very secure about your relationship—

okay who the fuck is that

okay fuck acting unbothered and fuck that guy who is talking to you

what do you mean?

he is totally okay, what’s wrong about him suddenly slipping a hand around your waist and resting his head on you?

he is glaring at the “poor” boy?

NONSENSE YOUR HONOR

but seriously he just gets sour that you aren’t paying attention to him, like screw the other person he doesn’t care about them

HE WANTS YOU YOU YOU

“y/n-san, I can always come back another time so we can discuss the details of the mission,” the man in front of you insists rather nervously.

you tilt your head, “it’s better if we discuss it now though? so we can be more prepared!”

the man fumbles with his words before finally blurting out, “a-actually I think I should go! B-BYE!” he squeals before sprinting out of your sight.

you sigh, head snapping behind you to the culprit of the man’s fright.

“satoru!” you scold.

said man takes his blindfold off, to look you directly in the eyes, “I did nothing! I swear on my dignity!”

“you don’t have any.”

gojo pouts preposterously before sighing and flinging his arms around theatrically, “oh how am I supposed to feel or act when my lover’s attention isn’t on me?”

“you could just wait until I am done,” you grumble and he waves his hand in dismissal.

“sugarboo—“ “don’t call me that.” “sugarboo, my need for attention is like thirst for water, it should be satisfied at the very same moment.”

your hand rests on your hip and gojo can sense a snarky and witty remark coming from a mile away, “if that’s the case then you shouldn’t be ‘thirsty’ for attention right now because we were cuddling an hour ago.”

“wait what.”

you give your back to him and wave your hand, mocking him, “I will see you in three days!”

you hear hurried steps getting closer to you before long arms wrap themselves around you, “oh come on, honey; don’t be so mean!”

you hold his chin, “thought you liked it when I am mean?”

“when did I ever say that?” he asks, eyes brimming with curiosity.

you turn to him, arms making their way around his neck, “lo and behold, one day when the great gojo satoru got drunk—“

“oh no,” he mumbles, knowing he is doomed.

“—he said, oh so passionately! ‘you’re like super hot when you cuss or be mean to me!‘“

gojo rolls his eyes, smirking, “got me thinkin’ you had something awful over me, sweets,” he hums.

he pulls you even closer and a grin makes its way to his face when you yelp, “I don’t mind admitting that when I am sober.”

“you’re so hot when you’re mean, makes me want to get on my knees and beg.”

at your speechless form, gojo lets go, satisfied with what he has done.

“I will see you later, sweet cheeks!”

you = 🤡

gojo = 🤡

🤡+🤡= 🫶

NANAMI KENTO:

i dont think he is a jealous guy

sure he might get a little irritated when someone takes your attention away for a little too long but what can he do

your life your choices and he shouldn’t interfere unless someone is making you uncomfortable

speaking of which, his six sense of “a little bitch is approaching my lover” is tingling right now ✨

you were in a club, surprisingly enough to some people.

a rather difficult mission was finally completed and it was very much successful so you and nanami settled on going to a club to drink a little and have a change of mood.

he swears he could listen to you giggle and ramble for hours, “you look radiant today, love.”

nanami’s hand brushes the hair out of your face and you smile shyly, “thank you, kento! I wore the dress you got me last week!” you chirp and he nods.

he already knows that you will look great in anything, but seeing you in it was a different story; you are a treat to the eye, an absolute sight for sore eyes.

you hear him sigh, a smile on his face when you look at him which makes you smile back, “what’s got our reliable sorcerer nanami on cloud nine?”

“none other than you,” he replies swiftly before standing up leaving you flustered; he presses a light kiss to your forehead, “I will get a drink, give me a moment.”

sometimes he forgets, he isn’t the only one who thinks you’re stunning because once he turns once again to your direction, a man is already there, seemingly drunk, and is too close for comfort.

nanami walks back to your table, slamming the cup down, just loud enough to catch the guy’s attention but not the others.

“got a problem, punk?” the drunk man slurs and nanami sighs, what a night this has become.

he replies back nonetheless, “you’re making my lover uncomfortable; I would appreciate if you went away.”

the guy laughs, “what d’ya mean?” his arms aiming to wrap itself around you, “me and this cutie were actually having fun—“

he is yanked roughly by the collar and pulled to the ground; nanami is now right by your side, pushing your head gently to his chest and you wrap your arms around him.

“I am not one for words of this nature but, scram out of here.”

nanami = 🤺

you = 🛐

za guy = 🫃

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

it isn’t jealousy as much as it’s possessiveness

like my guy is so confident that you will never leave him and that he satisfied your every need 😭✋

big words for a guy who can’t use a phone without scratching it everywhere

speaking of said nails

i have lost count how many people they sliced

👏👏 example of said slicing ahead

“m-my lord, there has been—“

sukuna groans, “speak clearly.”

the servant jolts in place, “y-yes my lord!” he starts all over again, “there has been a situation with the new village?…”

sukuna is getting irritated and anyone with one braincell can sense that. sadly, our dear guy only has half and all its power was channeled to admiration at the moment.

sukuna isn’t dumb, he knows that guy is lovestruck by something, so he turns his head towards the direction the servant is looking at so speechless and is rendered silent himself.

for multiple reasons.

you were adorned in a kimono, the finest fabric wrapped neatly around your body, and your face void of makeup save for the slight redness on your lip.

“hey ‘kuna!” you greet him and he hums before patting your head.

he ,sparing a mere glance at the servant, slices him into 6 slices that fall to the ground.

the room is silent for a bit before you speak up, “dude seriously?”

sukuna, the feared king of curses, pouts, “don’t call me that.”

“no like seriously, do you know how many people you have sliced because they looked at me?”

he dismisses the question, “‘don’t care.”

“we could make an actually human salad at this point.”

he gags, “it will taste disgusting and filthy, I am warning you.”

“honey, that’s literally the last thing I am worried about.”

he pulls you to his lap, his hands resting on your waist, “don’t you look extravagant, today.”

“wow big words.”

“I will push you off; don’t test me.”

sukuna= 😐

you=😇

the servant= 👱‍♂️🦵🦵💪💪

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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bucknastysbabe · 28 days

Text

Whoops wrote this up, back to finishing asks. I’m currently closed for one-shots right now. Then I shall probably migrate to my side blog to catch up with my freaknasties. Behold, the pathetic pookie puppy.

Pretty, fun, a little dumb. - C. Cole

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Literally pwp, doggystyle, sub!criston, light puppy play, established Dom/sub, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise kink, aftercare, pnv!sex, he’s an idiot, wet and messy

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondsbabe @rafeism @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee @valeskafics @thought--bubble @sugarpoppss2 @jamespotterismydaddy @fairysluna @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @starogeorgina

“Awe, puppy, you’re okay,” you cooed.

Criston had been such a good boy for you this week. He was getting his reward— access to your cunt as long as he could keep going. He’d get this as long as your puppy baby didn’t break any rules. He rarely did so the pretty little thing can wear himself out on Sundays. He had even managed to go to his job with a cock cage on. The cutest obedient little puppy, Criston was the best sub you had dated.

He was a little different today, more aggressive than normal. Usually the pup wanted missionary so he could suck on your tits and kiss if one could call it that. He’d been taking you from behind, one orgasm in now, big hands gripping your hips. Ever the velcro dog, the man’s legs caged yours in, body folded to press himself to the length of your back.

His stubble was brushing your cheek, messy curls tickling your neck. Criston was drooling, he couldn’t keep his pretty lips closed all worked up like he was. Your submissive would whine, cry, babble, even squeal when his needy cock was getting wet.

He was sweating and mouthing against your heated cheek, rambling, “Mm- feel s’good baby, oh my god, m’gonna cum again ohmy- ngh!” His frantic thrusts into your cunt grew sloppy and stilted, Criston’s pants bordering on heaves now. He moaned, “Pleasepleaseplease miss, please!”

Oh, your pitiful dumb puppy. Pussy drunk and spaced out to the point he forgot there weren’t any rules for his reward. Criston had to be reminded gently while you clenched down on his hard cock— the blunt tip grinding against your cervix. Criston whimpered as you murmured, “Go on, it’s your day sweet pup, fill me up, I know horny puppies like you can’t help it. Got to hump and beg and whine.”

“Oh…mm…yessss,” he mournfully wheedled, dumb brown eyes blinking as he registered your words. He jerked inside you, crying out as he filled you up, hot pumps of his cum stuffing you further. Criston whined, “Ah, s’its everywhere, oh miss! Oh, love your pussy, love it, fuuuuck!” You grinned, reaching back to pet his hair.

“Yeah puppy? Had a lot saved up for me didn’t you precious? Mmm, got your miss all stuffed, don’t hold back.”

Criston garbled nonsense, choking on his own spit as he shivered at your words. He swallowed, nuzzling into your palm, cock growing hard once again. His voice was ragged and pitchy with all his carrying on. Your pet managed to blabber, “M’still so full, can’t stop, you’re so wet n’tight miss. Agh- fuck.”

He began to fuck you again, cum squelching loud and filthy. Baby’s hips stuttered as he gasped, “Oh, s’all everywhere, made a mess.” You rolled your eyes and ushered him on, puppies made messes anyways— they didn’t know any better. Just cute and fun to play with, but they needed training.

A shaking hand snaked across your belly, sliding down to your messy core. Criston’s fingers circled your clit haphazardly. You arched and fucked back into him, praising your pet for being so smart and thoughtful. He cried, shivering at the praise, begging you to cum on him.

“Wetter, need it wetter, please,” was his pathetic warble.

You tilted your face to smash against puffy lips, an attempted kiss that turned into wordless breathing and moaning. The pair of you gasping into open maws as you grew sensitive and hot— dousing his swollen prick when he struck just right. Grabbing onto his wrist you writhed through the peak, praising, “Good fuh-fucking baby, getting you a pr-pretty new collar, how about white h-huh?”

Criston fucked you through his orgasm, grunting and whimpering while your pussy clenched in pulses. He shoved you down into the bed, driving into you with abandon, oversensitivity making you cry out with every drag of his cock. You gripped at a pillow, biting down on your bottom lip.

“M’sorry m’sorry miss, can’t stop, c-can’t I can’t!,” he frantically apologized, hips slapping against your reddened ass. If you could think straight at the moment you’d tease, Criston was driving coherency out of your head via brutal dicking.

“F-fuh-fuck miss, s’wet,” he repeated.

You turned to gaze at his face, his brown eyes clenched shut. Criston’s pretty lashes were wet, streaks down his flushed cheeks, lips bitten to an obscene degree. His curls were matted with sweat, falling across his pinched brow. He was goddamn gorgeous. You eyed his heaving chest and dangling chain, bouncing against that wonderfully hairy chest.

“Pretty pup,” you rasped quietly.

He smiled, dewy brown eyes dumb and empty as he gazed down at you, chanting your name like a litany. “That’s it, that’s it, don’t have to think, just rut and make yourself feel s-so good. You feel good don’t you p-pup?” Criston’s neck strained as he agreed with a little jerk of his head.

You bore back down into the pillow, letting your sweet pet have his way. His noises and rambling were adorable. Prattling on about how much he loved you, choking on sobs. Poor thing could barely string together a sentence, simply too fuck dumb for that. He slid his hands higher to your waist, fucking harder as he worked himself in your abused pussy.

It wasn’t long until you were growing sore and Criston was trembling and sniffling. He moaned, “Hurts, c-can’t, stop, no!” His words were meaningless as he powered through the overstimulation, making your eyes roll back at the thought. You could feel him trembling against you, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he neared another climax.

Criston was sobbing now, complaining about his sore cock, throbbing deep inside. Dumb puppy couldn’t stop if he wanted to. You cooed gentle and sweet, holding his cheek as he unraveled. You almost felt numb now, focusing on getting on your sub to let go and finish up before he lost his head.

His hands clenched so hard you knew it was bruise. Criston wailed as he emptied one more time, gasping and heaving as he slipped out on accident, painting your ass with the last few pearly ropes. Cum flooded from your entrance, the intense feeling drawing a whimper from you.

He shuffled down the bed, hot tongue dutifully lapping the mess up, even if he was still crying like a bitch in heat. You reached back to grip his green collar, panting, “You’re fine baby, it’s okay, c’mere puppy.” Criston looked confused— obeying regardless. He was a downright wreck as you held your submissive, petting his hair back.

You’d already had a water bottle, towel, and some crackers on the bedside table. Placing a hand on his chest you reassured, “Relax pup, you’re all worn out now, breathe.” Criston sucked in a breath, guided by your words until he was merely teary.

“Good boy.”

You pressed the bottle to his swollen lips, Criston drinking eagerly as rivulets fell down his neck. Grabbing the towel to wipe him off had poor pup squirming and protesting, “Ungh, hurts miss, s-sorry.” He got some more praise and pecks of your lips to get him through.

Your puppy was tired now, shoving his face into your neck, arm possessively pulling you close. He breathed in a slower fashion now, rasping more nonsense. Criston would come back to after a good nap. Unbuttoning his collar and rubbing his back would alleviate his intense emotions.

“There we go, best damn puppy, lookit you.”

He blinked, shifting closer, thanking you in a small rasp. Criston’s legs intertwined with yours, pressing himself close yet again. Such a good boy, and he was all yours. You couldn’t even see the man fucking another woman now— he needed his Miss and her pretty gifts and collars. Good directions and a strict routine. You smirked, whispering back, “Love you more Cris baby.”

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #ser criston cole x reader #criston cole x reader #criston cole smut #criston cole imagine

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sgstories123 · 9 months

Text

Mr Koh's Stretching Exercises

Faith’s left leg slipped and went much further forward than she intended to. She yelled in pain as she felt her muscles stretched and she stumbled over as she lost her balance.

Mr Koh cursed under his breath as he watched his student collapsed on the track. That will be another incident report to write. Why did the principal of the school asked him to take on the Athletics CCA. He was not interested in athletics nor had any knowledge of it. He was just smoking his way through by googling and asking the team to do training based on what he found on the internet. He was quite sure that none of them is useful and that none of the students are going to win medals for the school. It was just a bloody waste of time with no additional salary. At most, he can write something during performance appraisal that he contributed to school activities. He would rather read a book than coach the athletics team. He was after all a Literature teacher.

“Faith! Are you okay?” Mr Koh asked as he walked over to the student. The other students were already gather around her, helping her up to her feet.

“I think I sprained myself. My left leg is hurting.” Faith replied, her eyes red with tears.

For a moment, Mr Koh’s heart missed a beat. Faith was actually quite pretty with large eyes and oval-shaped face. She looks something like an anime character. With her eyes glistening in tears, Mr Koh felt a sudden urge to take her into his arms and protect her.

“Right. I got some ice packs in the PE room. That will help.” Mr Koh then addressed the rest of the students. “It is almost 5 pm. Let’s call it a day for today’s session. Remember to train hard. The school is expecting you to do well in the coming competition.” Mr Koh grimaced at the insincerity of the words emanating from his mouth.

As the students left the field, Mr Koh put Faith’s hands over his shoulders while he helped her to the staff room at the end of the field. He could feel her warm breath on his face. Her breasts pressed slightly against his chest as she clung closer to him for support. He looked at her sweat-drenched t-shirt, her pale blue sports bra beneath was just barely visible. He could make out the cleavage. As both of them were wearing running shorts, their bare legs were touching and rubbing each other as they made their way across the field. Mr Koh was fervently hoping that he does not get an erection as it would be too obvious in his running shorts.

“Right. Take a seat on the bench.” Mr Koh instructed Faith as they reached the PE room. He took the ice packs out from the small freezer and sat down on the floor in front of Faith. He started rubbing the ice pack on her legs, hoping that that is the correct way to treat a sports injury.

As he moved the ice packs higher up her thighs, Mr Koh admired her smooth complexion. The ice pack slid easily across her skin, leaving a trail of glistening liquid. Faith’s legs were open and her matching pale blue panties were visible from within her FBT shorts. His cock was hard now and he tried to adjust his shorts without attracting too much attention to himself.

“Right. You know, Faith. This would not have happened if you have done the warm-up exercises. I always remind all of you to do proper warm-up. Now you know what happens when you don’t listen to me and how important stretching is to an athlete.” Mr Koh rambled on, relying on his usual training instructions to focus on something other than how aroused he was from giving Faith a sports massage. “There are very useful stretching techniques that can not only prevent you from getting injured but help you perform better. When you stretch, you cover more distance with each stride and that can help you win competitions.”

“Cher, how about you teach me some stretching exercises now?” Faith asked.

Mr Koh was caught in a bind. He did not really know any stretching exercises. He was just talking nonsense and smoking his way through.

“Er, well. For example, we can start with you opening up your legs as wide as you can.” Mr Koh suggested.

Faith responded by doing exactly that. Mr Koh’s cock became even harder as more of Faith’s panties were revealed through her shorts.

“Maybe you sit down on the floor. Might be better.” Mr Koh suggested.

Faith got on the floor and sat down on the floor exercise mats with her legs outstretched. “Is this okay, Cher?”

“Right. I now help you with some of the stretching exercises, okay?” Mr Koh’s lust took over. He got behind Faith and pressed her body forwards, his body enjoying the warmth and close contact with the young body. He caressed her thighs, pretending to stretch them out further, but his real intent was to move further up her inner thighs, towards the final pleasure. Faith let out a sigh of pleasure. Mr Koh took that as a sign that her defences were down. He pressed himself harder against her, his hard cock rubbing her back. His hands went around her stomach, pulling her closer to him.

“Cher, is this part of the stretching exercise?” Faith asked innocently. “Yes. I am trying to warm your stomach up so that it is ready for the next exercise.” Mr Koh replied.

His hand now reached into her panties, brushing lightly against the thin, sparse pubic hair of the young girl. His other hand reached underneath her shirt and pushed her sports bra upwards, releasing her breasts. He groped them tight. What beautiful breasts. Soft and just large enough to fill his hands completely.

“Cher, this does not feel right. You are doing something that only my boyfriend does?” Faith sounded confused. “I told you to listen to me right? Or you are going to get injured again. I am just massaging you. Now keep quiet and enjoy.“ Mr Koh was a little angry, partly because Faith mentioned that her boyfriend had been enjoying this wonderful piece of meat.

Mr Koh pushed Faith down onto the exercise mats and pulled off her shorts and panties. “Wait, Cher. What are you doing?” Faith was now frightened. “”I said listen to me and keep quiet. Your shorts are in the way. You can’t do a proper stretch with them on. This is good for you or you will keep on getting hurt.” Mr Koh raised his voice and Faith was subdued into silence.

Mr Koh pulled Faith’s legs wide open and saw his prize. It was a beautiful pussy with slightly swollen pinkish lips and crowned with a small crop of pubic hair. “See, I am also taking off my shorts so that I can stretch better.” Mr Koh continued before taking off his shorts, his hard cock pointing towards the ceiling.

“Now, I am going to give you a special stretching exercise. Your vagina needs to be loosened or it will hinder your legs from spreading out. I will help you with that now.” Mr Koh positioned his hard cock at the entrance of Faith’s vagina, spitting on it to provide lubrication. He then pushed it slowly in. It was tight and provided immense pleasure.

“Cher. This is wrong. You are fucking me.” Faith cried. “I am not fucking you. I am stretching your vagina.” Mr Koh grunted, as his cock inched deeper into her. “This is a stretching exercise, not a fuck.”

“Look. I am stretching your legs, right. It is all part of the exercise.” Mr Koh grunted as he stretch Faith’s legs wider apart, hoping that it will allow his cock to enter her more easily. As he plunged his last inch into her, he groaned in satisfaction. He then lifted Faith’s legs over his shoulders, pushing himself even deeper into her. “More stretching, Faith. Not fucking.”

As Mr Koh started fucking Faith, pounding into her at an increasing pace, Faith had stopped complaining but was instead moaning softly in pleasure.

“Are you feeling it, Faith? Do you feel your muscles relaxing now that it has been stretched?” Mr Koh grunted in between his pounding.

“Yes, Cher. This feels so good. Fuck me harder.” Faith whimpered.

“Not fucking you, Faith. Just doing stretching exercises. Remember that.” Mr Koh responded. “Now, let’s stretch another set of muscles.”

Mr Koh pulled Faith up from the exercise mats and pushed her against the wall. He entered her from behind, lifting one of her legs upwards. Faith moaned in pleasure as Mr Koh’s hard cock ravished her hole from a different angle. He pressed her against the wall as he fucked her, slamming his body hard against her. He quickened his pace, drawing greater pleasure as he neared his limit. With a large groan and a final deep thrust, he ejaculated into Faith, drowning her womb with his seed. He held onto her, as Faith shuddered in pleasure, as she too reached her climax. He slowly released her, letting her lie down on the exercise mats as he watched his semen slowly exiting her vagina and onto the mats.

He would need to clean the mats later, he thought to himself. Additional work, again. But at least it was worth it. Maybe being an athletics coach is not so bad after all. It might even be better than reading a book. There were after all a couple of pretty students in the team. Mae, Jasmine and even Jenn.

“Cher.” Faith broke his chain of fantasy. “Can we do some more stretching exercise again?”

“Well. I was thinking we should not be selfish. Maybe we can involve Mae, Jasmine and Jenn next time. I think all of you should undergo special training and compete for the 4 x 100 event.” Mr Koh smiled to himself as a whole new world suddenly opened up to him.

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