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nakahras · 2 months

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᯽ mr. loverman • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • you have a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day and to top it off you can’t even go to the one person you’d want to since he’s out of town. or, at least, you thought so.

warnings • intentional lower case, reader has a nightmare of a roommate, cursing, the use of the pet names doll/baby, chuuya being the gossip he is, fem!reader, nsfw, oral (m -> f), nipple/breast play, some nasty shit is said, masturbation (m), fingering, teasing, slight overstim, idk this is some depraved shit honestly

wc • 4k

a/n • i started this when i was having the worst day ever and just wanted boyfriend chuuya :( i cannot be blamed for the smut idk who wrote that but it wasn’t me

you want to scream — to be more accurate you want to off someone, yourself or someone else, either would suffice. unfortunately you stick to screaming, it would cause you less issues. you lift one of the many pillows on your bed and promptly screech your throat raw into the expensive pillow. your head feels as though it’s going to explode just thinking about how your day has gone.

you thought february 29th was supposed to be a lucky day? an extra day in a leap year meant luck, didn’t it? well in your case it didn’t feel very lucky. not at all, actually. in fact you were sure today was a curse. you woke up late, so, your day was off to a bad start from the beginning. your roommate forgot to pay the electricity bill, again, so you had to take a cold shower and couldn’t even make coffee. you stopped at your favorite coffee shop and not only did they get your order wrong but someone bumped into you on your rush to the train station. there was coffee everywhere. every. where.

thanks to the coffee spill you missed your morning train. which normally wouldn’t be a huge deal, except for the fact that you had an early staff meeting. you try to text your coworker that you were running behind but because your roommate forgot to put the payment in for electricity, your phone didn’t charge and died. you don’t even get your message out. you wanted to cry. luckily the train was early and you made it to work just in time.

you thought maybe you had seen the worst of it. your karma surely couldn’t be that bad, right?

wrong.

you work as a nurse in cardiology. you had not one, not two, but three people code on you. it always came in threes. three emergency services calls. three rounds of performing cpr. three separate incident reports to type out. you were exhausted by the end of the day.

you almost cried again when your favorite coworker offers you a ride home. he was a saint in disguise and you told him so. a literal gift from heaven. you promise him a homemade lunch in return and he waves you off as you climb out of the car. when you get to your apartment you’re pleasantly surprised to see your roommate cleaning. a rare occasion.

the electricity is back on too so you take the opportunity to enjoy a relaxing bath and some wine. you thought, once again, maybe the worst was over.

wrong. again.

when you got out of the bathroom you thought you vaguely heard chatter but chalked it up to a show your roommate was probably watching. you change into a t-shirt, skipping a bra because it’s just you and your roommate at home, and a pair of sleeping shorts that barely cover anything. when you walk out with your headphones on you’re stunned to see 3 strangers in your home.

your roommate looks at you like you’re the crazy one. like she isn’t the one that didn’t warn you about the company. you double check then triple check your phone. nope, not a single text for warning. you awkwardly wave and consider digging a hole and living in it when she introduces one of the strangers as her new boyfriend. in that moment you want to perish, cease from existing altogether.

you don’t even get a chance to grab your food before you’re making a half assed excuse to step away and run back to your room.

you’re now laying on your bed, letting tears of frustration stream down your face. you can’t even call the one person who would make it all better. your boyfriend was away for a business trip. you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt something important. you knew he would drop everything

your boyfriend also has this freaky 6th sense, like he can always tell when you’re thinking of him. so, you’re not surprised when your phone begins to ring and you’re met with his contact photo. you let out a sigh and pick up.

“chuuya…” you breathe out. you sound terrible, you know you do, but you can’t bring yourself to even care to mask it.

you can hear vague rustling in the background before chuuya is speaking. “you don’t sound okay. what’s wrong?”

you start crying again. how does he do that? he always seems to know when you need him most. right now was definitely one of those times. you wish he could actually be there. you missed his warm and safe embrace.

“i’m not. i had a really shitty day and i feel so ridiculous about how much it’s getting to me…” you let out a humorless laugh at how pathetic you feel saying that out loud. you’re throwing a fit over a bad day. who does that?

and all you wanted was for chuuya to be here. but you couldn’t tell him that, if you did he would dismiss everything and come running. then you would feel bad about coming between him and his work. you let out a frustrated sigh.

you can practically hear the frown on chuuya’s face when he speaks. “you wanna tell me ‘bout it? i’ll listen. or is there something else i can do to make you feel better?”

you don’t deserve him. you think to yourself.

moments like this make you really think about how chuuya deserves way more than what you can give him. you go days at a time without talking to him because of school and work. you lock yourself in your room and ignore the world outside just to keep up with your school work. you know it’s unfair to chuuya even if you always do give him a warning. he is always incredibly understanding over it that you almost cry out of guilt. he even brings you meals and hydration packs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

things like this remind you just how selfish you can be when it comes to him. all you want is him. but are you allowed to even feel like that when he’s away for work — a good reason by the way, much better than your own. he never complains when you need space so why would you? to you the answer is simple, you won’t complain.

of course, chuuya sees it differently. he knows that if you didn’t have to cut everyone off to focus on your work you wouldn’t. but your mind doesn’t work like that and he gets it. does he miss you when you have to take a break from reality? absolutely, but he doesn’t complain because he already knows how bad you feel about it.

so instead of saying ‘yes, i need you’ like you want to you let out another sigh. “how much work do you have left today?”

”funny you ask me that, doll. i finished everything early today.” chuuya chuckles when he can practically see the way you perk up.

you still hesitate when you ask, “does that mean you're coming back to yokohama early?”

the port mafia executive smiles widely at just how adorable he finds you. the way you still get so shy to ask him things that should be a given. chuuya adores you and couldn’t imagine spending his now free time with anyone other than you. so, of course he took the opportunity to get back as soon as possible. apparently his timing was impeccable because from the sound of it, you could use a break.

chuuya was already on his way to your apartment. it was supposed to be a surprise, but he figures since he’s already almost there…

“why don’t you pack a bag and come down to find out for yourself, hm?” he lets out another chuckle when your excited squeal finds it’s way onto his side of the phone.

you quickly grab your small duffle and stuff some essentials into it. you have a drawer at chuuyas jam packed with clothing already and a whole second set of your favorite hygiene products so you only need to grab a few things. you pack your laptop and a couple articles of your comfier clothing. you change quickly, stuffing your legs into some jeans and actually putting on a bra underneath your t-shirt.

you grab your phone where chuuya is still on the line. “okay, all packed. should i come down now?”

“yeah, your surprise should be there any minute.” chuuya pulls up to the front of your building as he says those words and can’t help the pleased smile on his face.

you chuckle and shake your head. “my surprise, huh wonder what it could-“ you’re cut off when your roommate calls out your name questioningly in your rush to get out of the door. your eye twitches when you’re reminded of the randoms in your apartment but put on a smile anyways. “it was so nice meeting you guys, sorry i can’t stay but my boyfriend came back into town early so i’m gonna go see him. bye.”

you don’t miss the way your roommate perks up at the mention of chuuya. “oh? chuuya is here? you should invite him up. i would love to see him.

“i’m sure you would. he’s tired though. maybe some other time.” you grit your teeth and smile sweetly. you don’t wait for a response as you practically run out the door and lock it behind you.

you huff and then remember chuuya is on the other side of the phone still, you grimace realizing he heard the whole thing. “sorry…”

“didn’t know i was so tired.” chuuya laughs as you let out a groan.

you catch the elevator before the doors close from someone just getting out and stab at the button to the ground floor. “i’m tired of their shit, therefore, you’re tired too. plus did you really wanna sit through another awkward meal where my roommate dotes on you. god and her new boyfriend was there. can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be? gross. i don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“someone’s actually insane enough to agree to date her? condolences to whoever that guy is.” chuuya’s voice drips with genuine surprise.

you let out a giggle at how scandalized your boyfriend sounds. “you’re telling me she doesn’t pique your interest, sunshine?”

he chuckles and you can practically hear the eye roll from his end of the line. “nah, my girl is the only one for me.”

you’re walking out of the elevator when you stop in your tracks for a moment. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with him, when chuuya calls you his girl it makes you melt. your brain malfunctions a little and it makes you really think about how you truly are all his.

without hesitation you breathe out an “i love you.” before moving forward to the entrance of your building.

“i love you.” it’s instantaneous, his answer.

chuuya never has to think twice about telling you how much he adores you. he is immutably in love with you. there was no doubt in his mind and, even though it took some time for you to believe so, there was no longer a single doubt in your mind either. chuuya had made certain that you would never question it.

you make it to the entrance. the moment you open the door you’re welcomed with the sight of chuuya leaning against his car. his phone is still up to his ear as his grin widens upon seeing you.

you drop your hand and phone from your ear and hang up before rushing over to the ginger. you drop your duffle bag near the car before jumping into the executive's arms. he was anticipating the impact and caught you with ease.

the bicolor eyed man holds you tightly and you bury your face in his neck. his soft hair tickles your face but you couldn’t care less. you take in a deep breath and his scent envelopes you and all the tension your body had been previously holding completely dissipates.

your voice is muffled when you say, “i missed you, so much.”

“i missed you too.”

you both stand there in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before chuuya sets you down. he grabs your bag from the ground and opens the passenger door for you. you thank him and climb in. your boyfriend wastes no time placing your bag on the backseat and slipping into the drivers side.

the ginger takes you to your favorite take out restaurant and you order all of your favorites. when you get back to his penthouse you set up his couch into a lounge bed and get ready to watch one of your favorite movies. while you’re doing that, chuuya is pouring you both a glass of wine.

you’re happily munching on your food and sipping on your wine when chuuya hits you with. “you should move in.”

your head snaps back to look up at him, your brow is furrowed and you give him a confused look. “we haven’t talked about it before. are you being serious right now?”

“completely.” he doesn’t even look at you, his tone so nonchalant and you’re just gaping at him.

you set your drink and food aside and shift off of chuuya. he’s about to complain until you sit yourself on his lap straddling his waist and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you pluck the remote from his hand and turn over your shoulder to pause the movie. you wanted to make sure you had his undivided attention (you always did).

you study him for a moment before responding. “are you sure?”

“yes. i have 2 extra rooms that aren’t being used. we don’t have to share a bedroom yet and you would still have a separate office space. c’mon, doll, let me get you out of that nightmare of an apartment.” chuuya reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

he did that on purpose. you know he did. the way he caresses your face with his always surprisingly soft fingers is unfair. he knows how distracting it is to you.

you try to process what he says but it takes you quite a bit longer than it should have but it doesn’t take you long to make your decision. “…okay.” it comes out whispered.

“okay?” chuuya asks you incredulously like he was actually expecting you to reject his offer.

you nod your head with a blush creeping up your face. “yes, okay. i’ll move in with you.

chuuya can’t help himself and presses his hands across your back to bring you into him. his lips crash into yours and you share a moment of pure bliss. his lips meld perfectly with yours. he tastes of peppermint and grapes. the taste increases as his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with your own. you let out a short gasp at the sudden intrusion but melt into him anyways.

you both stay like that for a few minutes. your hips begin to stutter on their own. your breaths and gasps and quiet moans fill the atmosphere. chuuya’s hands have found their way under your shirt and he’s already playing with the band of your bra. his fingers expertly undo the clasps and hands glide across your now naked back.

your lungs scream at you. you want more of him but you have to oblige your body’s need for air. you part from his lips and rest your forehead on his own, breath mixing together as you both pant for air.

chuuya only gives you a moment, hips still moving into his when he grabs at your hair and gently pulls your head back so he can trail kisses down your neck. it takes all of his self control to not bite your soft skin. per your request, he’s always careful not to leave marks on areas that would be visible in your scrubs. this is the one instance where his need to please you outweighs his need to be possessive.

if chuuya had it his way, he would make everyone aware of just how much you are his. for your sake, though, he reigns in that side of himself. he supposes he’ll just have to show the world you’re his in different ways. like in the form of a key, and in the form of a ring he has stashed away in the far corners of his closet, and maybe even some day in the form of his child.

chuuya’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice. he hadn’t even realized that your positions had switched. you were panting underneath him, face flushed, and — fuck — you look so gorgeous like this. you were always beautiful. but having you like this, something only he got to see always made something primal in him stir.

you huff and grab ahold of the ginger’s face. his mind was obviously elsewhere. “chuuya. listen to me. what are you doing?”

chuuya’s eyes, which had glazed over, somewhat clear from the fog. he smiles at you as he lowers himself further down your body and lifts your shirt to press kisses to your stomach. you let out a whine, ready to complain about him still not listening.

“relax, baby, i’m helping you relieve some stress.” chuuya draws soothing circles into your skin then, without waiting for your response his hands travel to your pajama pants to untie them.

your hand shoots out to stop him, still panting and slightly dazed. “what about you?”

“don’t worry about me. i can take care of myself while i take care of you.” he says it so unabashedly you can’t bring yourself to question him.

then your head starts spinning. the thought of him touching himself while taking care of you is so incredibly hot it ignites your entire body on fire. there’s no longer a single thought in your head that doesn’t involve chuuya’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. you need it all.

you reach out and card your fingers through the gravity manipulator’s silky hair. he hums at the action and takes it as his sign to continue. his fingers work quickly, undoing the ribbon and hooking around both the elastic of the pants and your panties. his movements are so fluid and fast you can hardly keep up. your bottom half is completely bare but he’s not satisfied there.

his hand slides up underneath your shirt and through the valley of your breasts. he watches intently as your shirt slowly rides up to expose your breasts. his fingers ghost over each mound briefly before they’re sliding down your body again and gripping at your thighs, holding them open.

“so damn pretty.” chuuya hums and his eyes flit up to gaze up at your flushed face. “do me a favor, baby? play with those perfect tits of yours for me, won’t you?”

his voice is sickly sweet and smooth like honey. you’re so enamored by the sound that you almost don’t hear him. his expectant look is what starts up the wheels in your head to turn. his words process and your hands move on their own accord. you start kneading at your chest while maintaining eye contact with his bicolored eyes.

chuuya groans. “god, doll. look at you. playin’ with yourself like that. ‘s sexy as hell- you’re sexy as hell.”

“chuuya…” you let out a whine. your patience thinning by the second as you wiggle your ass for any chance at friction.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “okay, okay. think i’ve made you wait long enough, hm? deserve a reward for all the hell you were put through today.”

chuuya, once again, doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s dipping his head down to get face to face with your already slick cunt. his tongue is quick as he runs it up and down your folds. you feel him sigh in relief against you, like this is the first meal he’s had in days. it might as well be with how much he craved you when he was away.

although, he was focused on you — focused on making this all about you — chuuya knows if he doesn’t make good on his word of relieving himself you’ll never let him hear the end of it. who is he to deny himself the added pleasure when you’re demanding it of him. so, chuuya lets go of one of your thighs to fumble with his belt and free his strained cock from its confines.

you vaguely watch his arm move. your attention wavering as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. your back arches and hands squeeze at your breasts in surprise as you moan out his name.

chuuya smirks, absolutely pleased by the reactions he elicits from you. his hand that freed his cock moves to collect some of the wetness that’s steadily dripping out of you. once he’s satisfied with the amount he lowers his hand and uses your slick as lube to touch himself.

you try to comment on it but your mouth isn’t working right. the only thing that comes out is, “chuuya~ so good. ‘s so- fuck- so good…”

chuuya groans, clearly enjoying this as much as you are. his hips start to stutter as he lets go of your other thigh to gather more of your juices in that hand. his mouth it still making expert work of your clit while his fingers are closing in on your entrance. he teases you a little, circling the hole a few times before slowly pushing in two of his lithe fingers.

your head is thrown back as a slew of cursed moans falls from your lips. this time chuuya lets out a moan of his own when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers already. his hand being used on himself starts pumping faster, his cheeks hollowing more frequently and fingers start sliding in and out of you at an alarming rate.

he’s close, you realize. he’s close and wants you to cum before him. you aid him in his endeavor by rolling your nipples between your fingers then squeezing slightly to pinch them. the added sensation makes your whole body twitch.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck. chuuya, gonna cum~ ‘s too much. gonna-“ a euphoric wave crashes over you and you let out an embarrassing squeal like moan as your vision spots and ears rings.

chuuya’s slurps while lapping up at your orgasm are insanely lewd and the noise alone is enough to send him crashing as well. what really does him in is the sight before him. your eyes rolling back into your head and mouth hanging open. he moans deeply, from his chest, and spills into his hand. he pumps himself a few more times until he’s twitching from the overstimulation.

chuuya laps up every last drop your cunt has to offer while you come down from that amazing high and catch your breath. when he’s happy with his clean up he rests his cheek on your thigh. you prop yourself up to look at him. he looks so angelic, hair slightly tousled from your fingers running through it earlier, face glistening from your juices and face flushed. chuuya smiles at you then turns his head to leave sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

you let your head hang back before groaning. he was going to be the death of you. you knew he wasn’t finished with you by a long shot.

“we have plenty of time to do this when i move in.” you whine.

chuuya lets out an elated laugh. “so, when are we moving you in? tomorrow?”

you let out a genuinely amused laugh, shaking your head at his eagerness.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x you #chuuya x fem!reader #bsd x fem!reader #bungo stray dogs x fem!reader #bsd chuuya #᯽. banners/dividers made by @/cafekitsune #᯽. éli originals

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

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all things end - mingyu

summary: you grew up with mingyu. he was your first kiss. your first boyfriend. the first man you ever loved. some things just aren’t meant to last, but during some time apart you struggle to forget mingyu, and he does his best to get you back. because who could ever love you as much as he does?

word count: 12.7k

warnings: afab reader, some gendered terms. ex!mingyu / childhood friends to lovers so plenty of fluff and angst, uhhhh scheming cheol too

masterlist

“what?” cheol groans, answering the phone despite being in the middle of a workout.

“can i come over?” you ask meekly on the other end, and his heart twists.

“bad day?”

“yeah.”

“sure, i’ll be there in 20. come by whenever.”

“thank you,” you sniff, and he hangs up, finishing his last few reps before rushing to get back to his apartment. this is your third bad day this week. your breakup is, understandably, hitting you hard. cheol can’t help but wonder, if you’re so torn up about this, why did you leave mingyu at all? maybe one day he’ll finally ask, but for now he just heads home and shoots you a text asking what kind of ice cream you’ll need tonight.

“so i was walking my dog,” you say, scooping a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth before you continue, “and you know how gyu always liked taking him by that lake at sunset?”

“sure,” cheol nods. “was it sunset when you walked by and it made you think of mingyu?”

“well. yeah.”

“and that’s what prompted today’s spiral?” he asks, grabbing the ice cream from your cold hands so he can hack at it with his spoon.

“i am not spiraling,” you say, trying to swoop your spoon in but getting knocked away by your best friend. “rude.”

“you spiral every time something reminds you of mingyu,” he says, “or when someone mentions him, or, the most idiotic part, when you see him because someone thought you should stay friends despite the messy breakup.”

“i hate when you try to be the voice of reason,” you complain.

“i’m not trying, i am.”

“it’s annoying.”

“stop having problems then,” he says with a mouthful of ice cream. you get up and toss the blanket in your lap back onto the couch, and cheol whines, “where are you going?”

“you’re obviously no help so i’ll just go back home and cry myself to sleep or something.”

“no fair! don’t make me feel bad for you! you put yourself in this situation! i don’t even know why you and mingyu broke up in the first place!”

“i’ve told you a million times,” you whine, sitting back down and tossing your head into the armrest of the couch. “we just weren’t meant for each other anymore.”

“god, why does your answer get more vague every time?” cheol teases, kicking you lightly with his foot. “am i ever gonna get the real reason? did you have a big fight? he doesn’t want kids? you called his mom a hoe?”

“we didn’t fight, i didn’t call mrs. kim anything mean, and we definitely didn’t fight about kids,” you reply, and cheol smiles like the cheshire cat.

“lemme guess. you’ve both already agreed on baby names?”

“shut up.”

“is one of them at least seungcheol? cheol junior? come on, i deserve it,” he pleads, finally getting a laugh out of you.

“if by some act of god mingyu and i get back together and decide to have kids we will consider naming a potential child after you,” you say just to appease him, your heart twisting because you know you and mingyu won’t be together again for that to even be a possibility.

“i’m holding you to that,” he says smugly, and you roll your eyes, leaving it at that. you’re both quiet for a while, passing the ice cream back and forth. you like that cheol doesn’t take you too seriously when you’re like this, because you need the break from your own thoughts. but it’s nice like this too, just being around each other. you decide to break the silence when you notice what time it is, getting up for real. “where are you going now?”

“home,” you sigh. “i have to get up early tomorrow to take fred to the vet, so i should go to sleep.”

“ok,” cheol nods. “text me what flavor you want tomorrow night and i’ll pick it up on the way home from work.”

“i’ll try my best not to need this tomorrow, but thank you,” you say. “i appreciate it more than you know.”

“anytime y/n,” cheol smiles. “let me know when you get home!”

“will do. night cheol.”

you’re up bright and early the next morning to take fred in for his appointment before you have to go to work. it’s allergy season, and no one warned you that your sweet little man could have allergies worse than any human you’ve ever met. fred has a rash on his back that he keeps trying to lick, bite, and scratch, so your vet gave him some medicine and a cone of shame to keep him from bothering the area for a while. you’re laughing to yourself as you take him home, eager to put the cone on him, just to see what it looks like. once you have it on, you laugh again and snap a picture because, yes, he looks silly. you post it to your story and forget about it as you go about the rest of your day.

a little after lunch, mingyu is taking a break from staring at his computer and goes to check his phone. after refreshing instagram, his heart leaps when he sees your icon at the top of his page, alerting him to what you’ve posted. yeah, yeah, he shouldn’t still follow you technically, but he can’t help himself. he only lets his conscious stop him for a couple seconds before he’s tapping your icon and viewing your story, which is fred in his cone of shame. mingyu, who loved you so much but quite possibly loved fred more, freaks out. something must be wrong, and before he thinks better of it he texts you to ask what’s wrong.

you’re in a meeting when you get the text. you’re bored out of your mind, otherwise you would’ve just let it be. but your mind keeps wandering and now that you’ve heard the buzz of a message come through you can’t help yourself. you lift your phone just slightly to take a look, and you slam it back down when you see mingyu’s name lighting your screen. you do your best to ignore it through the rest of your meeting, but your mind keeps wandering back to him.

your lack of a reply has mingyu freaking out even more. he texts a couple more times, asking questions so hopefully when you do reply mingyu will get the information all at once. but all of those go unanswered too, and he can’t take it anymore. he calls you, biting his lip anxiously as he waits to find out what’s going on.

your phone rings as you’re leaving your meeting, and your heart drops when you see that it’s mingyu. you haven’t had time to read his texts, but if he’s been bothering you this much it must be serious. you take a breath, preparing for the worst, and then you accept the call.

“hello?” you ask meekly, and you hear mingyu sigh on the other end.

“y/n,” he says, relieved. “finally. what’s going on?”

“uh, nothing?” you reply. “i’m at work.”

“huh? why?!”

“it’s a wednesday? most people with jobs work on wednesdays,” you explain.

“no, i mean what’s going on with fred?” mingyu clarifies, and that’s when you notice the worry in his voice. you used to be able to pick up on his emotions instantly, and it sends a jab to your chest that it took you this long to realize he was upset.

“oh, he has allergies,” you laugh. “he uh, he was bothering a spot on his back so the vet gave him that collar to stop him from licking it.”

“so he’s ok?” mingyu asks, and you nod as you respond.

“he’s fine, just inbred probably,” you joke, earning a little nose snort from mingyu. “listen, uh, i’m at work, so-”

“yeah, yeah, go, sorry for bothering you,” mingyu replies. “give fred a hug for me.”

“will do. bye mingyu.”

“bye baby,” he says without thinking. he hangs up, realization hitting him a second too late. he thinks about texting you to apologize, but he’s bugged you enough today. maybe you didn’t hear it? he can just ignore it, right? it’s not like you’ll be talking to each other soon anyway, so maybe you’ll forget it eventually.

the first time mingyu called you baby was an accident, too. you were really close friends, but nothing more. you’ve known mingyu since you were five, when his family moved in next to yours and your parents made you play together because you were both around the same age.

for you, he was the stinky neighbor boy who would make your heart flutter when he pulled up weeds and handed them to you like a bouquet of flowers. for mingyu, you were the pretty neighbor he wasn’t quite sure how to talk to, so he did things like pull up weeds for you. he usually showed his love for you like that, in more physical ways than verbal. one time, when you were about ten and he was almost twelve, you told mingyu you really liked another neighbor’s bike and you wished you had one like it for yourself. he still remembers asking poor dokyeom if he could borrow it, and he also remembers how much his parents yelled at him when they found out he had given it to you as a surprise. you teased mingyu about that constantly, still laughing over the memory of him walking the bike back to dokyeom’s house with the saddest look on his face. that was the first time he realized he only wanted to do things that made you happy, and it was the first time you realized mingyu was more sweet than he was stinky.

the first time he called you baby was late one night at his house. you had been friends so long your parents weren’t worried about leaving you alone together (secretly hoping you would wipe the idiocy from your eyes and fall in love already). you were in the basement at mingyu’s, sitting comfortably next to him on the couch and watching a scary movie, despite your protests. mingyu wasn’t usually a scary movie guy either, but your friends at school had talked about this movie so much that mingyu got teased for not watching it.

he had summoned you like he always did, standing on the fence in his backyard and shouting your name until you opened your bedroom window. your houses were so close you didn’t have to yell once the window was open, so you spoke normally as you told mingyu firmly that you would not be watching that with him. it only took a few seconds of him pouting for you to cave, and once you were settled on the couch he said passively, “don’t worry baby, i’ve got you if it gets too scary.”

that one little word had haunted you for days, by far scarier than the movie you watched that night. mingyu had called you baby. that’s not what friends call each other, that’s boyfriend/girlfriend stuff. and that definitely wasn’t you and mingyu.

at least to the two of you it wasn’t. to everyone else, you were an item. it was so obvious you liked each other that guys wouldn’t approach you, and girls knew not to fall for mingyu because he would never fall back. it took ages for you two to notice, but once you did, your life had never been more lovely. to love mingyu and be loved by him is one of the best things you’ve ever done. his love is deep and he loves hard, and for some people that kind of passion can be a little scary. it was definitely scary for you, even if took a while for you to notice.

just like the first time he called you baby, that one slip up on the phone stuck with you. you couldn’t tell cheol about it, because he’d just question the whole break up again, so you sat with it quietly as you played the sound of mingyu’s voice over and over again in your head.

days later, mingyu had already forgotten about it. he was worried at first, but when the world didn’t implode immediately after he basically let it go. you’d assume it was a mistake, not him still pining for you despite what happened. so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

that weekend, you found yourself at hoshi’s for a party. his apartment was packed, so you were prepared to get tipsy and then head home. cheol wasn’t there yet so you were bothering seungkwan instead, and he was doing everything he could to get rid of you. that includes pushing you into someone’s firm chest on accident, and you almost fall through the floor when you look up and see mingyu staring back at you in shock. you’re just drunk enough that you want to have a little fun with him, a mischievous smirk slowly forming on your face.

“hey, baby,” you emphasize, watching as mingyu’s face starts out hopeful and then falls slightly.

“oh, haha,” he laughs nervously. “hey. um, so you noticed that the other day.”

“i did.”

“s-sorry,” he stutters. “old habits die hard.”

you nod in agreement as you take a sip of your drink, not so sure now, with his big brown eyes staring you down, why you thought talking to him was a good idea. you usually spent these parties pressed up against mingyu’s chest, back to front, his arm wrapped around you lazily. suddenly you’re cold just at the thought, and you ache to feel mingyu wrapped around you again.

“how’s fred?” he asks, trying to keep you next to him for as long as possible.

“he’s good,” you nod. “doesn’t need the cone anymore.”

“aw, lame, those pictures were funny,” mingyu pouts, and you have to look away so you don’t have the urge to kiss him.

“yeah, well, i still have it so i can put it back on him if he ever gets annoying.”

“that’s good,” mingyu nods now, awkwardly looking around for a way out of this conversation without being rude. he misses you, and he was totally aware of that, but it’s easier to push it away when you’re not standing so close, your perfume encasing him in memories of when you were his. now you’re not, and mingyu wants to go home. he’s searching the room for someone to talk to so this moment won’t be so pathetic, but cheol comes to the rescue.

“hey ex lovebirds,” cheol teases, bumping into you enough to make you stumble. mingyu reaches out to steady you, but cheol grabs you by the waist to keep you in place, and mingyu has to look away or else he might light on fire with anger. it’s a simple touch, he knows cheol doesn’t mean anything by it, but it always bothered him when other people tried to take care of you. that was his job, and he didn’t like anyone getting in the way of that. “why do you both look so miserable? it’s a party. drink, have fun, maybe kiss a little-”

“i do need another drink,” you say, taking the first chance to leave this situation. you look to both guys before asking, “do you need anything?” they shake their heads, so you escape to the kitchen and mentally mark the living room off. you can’t go back out there now. maybe it’s time for you to just leave.

“so,” cheol says, smirk hiding behind his cup. “how’s your plan going?”

“what plan?” mingyu asks, obviously confused.

“your plan to get y/n back,” cheol replies nonchalantly. “you have one, right? otherwise i don’t see why you aren’t leaving my friend alone after such a devastating break up.”

“i’m your friend too?! what about me and my feelings?”

“you annoy me more than y/n does, so i’m on her side,” cheol jokes, and mingyu groans. “but seriously. what’s going on here? she won’t tell me anything.”

“we broke up.”

“i know that. elaborate.”

“no,” mingyu says stubbornly, crossing his arms. “that’s between me and y/n. she won’t tell you so neither will i.”

“god, forget it. i’m on no one’s side, you’re both annoying,” cheol scoffs. “match made in heaven, you two.”

it’s quiet between them for a moment, both men just sloshing their drinks around in their cups, looking around at their drunken friends ruining hoshi’s lovely home. mingyu thinks for a second, deciding if he’ll actually admit this to cheol or not, but he slams the rest of his drink and turns to his friend before he can change his mind.

“i don’t have a plan,” he starts off. “yet. i’m trying to feel things out. i tried giving y/n space, and that’s not working for me. i love her, dude. i’ll only ever love her.”

“then go get her!” cheol says incredulously, motioning for the kitchen. “she’s hiding in there so she doesn’t have to see you, she’d be easy to corner-”

“but,” mingyu interjects. “but. i don’t know if she wants me back. she broke things off, so i’m trying to respect that. i just...i don’t know if she loves me anymore, man. so i want to make a plan, i want to get her back, but i’m afraid of what would happen if it doesn’t work. if she really doesn’t love me anymore.”

“hm,” cheol hums before he finishes his own drink. he takes a minute, smacks his lips, then turns to his idiotic best friend. “get her back. as soon as possible, actually. she’s a wreck without you. whatever happened for her to break up with you, i’m sorry. but she hasn’t stopped talking about you since. she still loves you man, no doubt. so i think you should try. and let me know how i can help, because, man, she’s really been bumming me out lately being all sad like this.”

“she’s sad?” mingyu asks, sadness appearing on his own features, making cheol roll his eyes.

“i said a whole essay and that’s the only thing you picked up on?”

“no, i get it,” mingyu nods. “i’ll think of something.”

“good,” cheol nods, then points to mingyu’s cup. “you want a refill?”

“do you mind grabbing it for me?” mingyu asks sheepishly.

“no,” cheol says in disbelief. “you can’t be hiding from her too.”

“what if i am!”

“i’m so close to revoking my offer to help,” cheol complains as he snatches mingyu’s cup from him. “i’ll be back.”

mingyu’s conversation with cheol set his mind in motion. he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since, as if that was new. but now he has a reason to spend all his time thinking about you. truthfully, mingyu isn’t sure he knows why you broke things off. at least, he doesn’t know how to explain it to people. he knows it must have made sense to you, and to him, enough for him to let you go. but he just remembers one very tearful conversation where you told him you couldn’t do this anymore, and that was it. he’d steal the sun to make your world brighter, so if he wasn’t making you happy anymore he wasn’t going to stick around if you didn’t want him there.

but now. now he’s wishing he had fought back. asked questions. tried to fix things instead of just running away. he still loves you, and if cheol’s right and you still love him, then what the hell are you doing?

your first date with mingyu was simple. since it took you both years to realize your mutual feelings for each other, there wasn’t much you hadn’t already done together. you already tried out new restaurants together, went to arcades and movies and concerts just the two of you. you even forced mingyu to get a membership at your favorite museum so you could drag him along anytime there was a new exhibit you were dying to see. so when mingyu finally asked you out, he wasn’t sure what to do. he wracked his brain for the fanciest restaurant he could think of, or searched for romantic movies playing around town, but none of it felt right. none of it felt like you.

that’s why your first date was simple. he knew he didn’t have to do something grandiose to impress you, so instead he invited you over to his dorm and made you dinner. he wouldn’t tell you what he was making, but when you walked in it smelled familiar. not just because mingyu’s scent wafted up around you when he welcomed you in, but because the food on the stove instantly reminded you of home. you tried peeking at the pots to see if you could figure out what it was, but mingyu cutely pushed you away.

“you’re gonna ruin the surprise!” he whines, childishly pushing you out to the living room. “you can’t be in here!”

“so you’re telling me i can’t be around my boyfriend on our first date?” you challenge him, and his force falters. “i want to spend time with you gyu, let me at least be in the kitchen with you.”

“promise not to look at the food though,” he says with a finger in your face. you grab his hand and wrap yours in his sweaty, warm grasp.

“i’ll keep my eyes on you, deal?”

“deal,” he smiles shyly, squeezing your hand before pulling you behind him into the kitchen. he starts working with just one hand, so you let go of his other one to make it easier for him to cook. “why’d you do that?”

“do what?” you ask, leaning against the counter so you can sit back and watch.

“let go,” he pouts, reaching for you again.

“you have to use both hands to cook, baby,” you laugh, and you watch with love in your eyes as he blushes a deep pink.

“right,” he nods. “ok. it’s almost done, but if you’re hungry there’s snacks in the fridge.”

“i’m good,” you say quietly, watching as mingyu returns to chopping something. you silently admire him as he works, your heart warming as it settles in your mind: mingyu is finally yours. your first love. your only love, probably, is your boyfriend. how amazing is that?

“baby?” mingyu repeats, snapping you out of your trance. there’s the hint of a smile on his face as your eyes meet his. “did you hear me?”

“no, what did you say?” now it’s your turn to blush. mingyu takes a step closer, carefully placing his hands on your hips.

“i said it’s ready,” he smiles. “you were staring at me.”

“yeah, i told you i was gonna do that.”

“what were you thinking about?” mingyu barely whispers, his face incredibly close to yours now.

i was thinking about how much i love you.

“um, you?”

“what about me?”

“i was mentally critiquing your form,” you tease, a smile breaking out across both your faces.

“and how was it?” he asks, close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips.

“you’re gonna chop a finger off one day,” you reply quietly, eyes drifting down to mingyu’s lips as you speak. he notices and the side of his mouth quirks up in a smirk.

“how’s my form now?” he asks before hastily pressing a kiss to your lips, pulling back almost like the touch sent a shock through him.

“could be better,” you squeak out, and he nods before leaning back down to capture your lips in a real kiss. it’s warm, delicate but strong, and it’s mingyu. you can’t seem to wrap your head around that part. mingyu is kissing you right now. you’re kissing mingyu. and he’s really good at it. sooner than you’d like, he’s pulling away again.

“how was that?” he asks, lips just barely grazing over yours.

“better,” you reply breathlessly. “you take criticism well.”

“i’m just here to please you baby,” he says, his words dripping with double meanings. you feel a chill run down your spine as you notice the hungry look in his eyes, and you clear your throat before speaking.

“so, um, can i see the food now or do i have to eat with my eyes closed?”

“depends,” mingyu replies. “you want me to feed it to you?”

“stop being weird,” you laugh, pushing him away playfully but instantly missing the warmth of his chest against yours. you ignore his smile and lean over the stove, heart picking up as you try to see what he made. mingyu puts his arms around your waist fully and moves you out of the way, back to his childish shoves and whines about ruining the surprise.

in a few minutes, you’re sat on his couch, eyes closed with a bowl of something warm in your lap. mingyu was serious about feeding you, at least the first bite, because he wants to keep the meal a surprise. as you complain about it for the millionth time, mingyu brings a spoon up to your lips and quietly asks you to open your mouth. you welcome the food, and your eyes shoot open when you immediately recognize the taste.

“chicken and dumplings?” you ask, and mingyu smiles proudly. “how’d you learn to make that? it tastes just like home. i can’t...i don’t believe you made this.”

“please,” mingyu scoffs. “i was over at your house enough that i saw your grandma, your mom, even you, make this a million times. i made it the exact same way.”

“i can’t believe this,” you shake your head. “i...this is perfect, gyu. thank you.”

“no problem baby,” he smiles as he cuddles into your side, handing you another full spoon. “your turn.”

“what?” you ask, confused, just to turn and see mingyu waiting with his mouth open. you laugh, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “you’re embarrassing.”

“yeah, but you love it,” he laughs along, taking the spoon back so he can start eating too. as he goes on about how perfectly he cooked this, he misses the way your face heats up as you think, yes, you do love it. you love him, and you’re trying to figure out how soon is too soon to tell him that.

part one of mingyu’s plan is a little concerning. he’s not following you, no, he’s not doing anything that would make you uncomfortable, but...he is hanging around your favorite coffeeshop in the mornings. he knows he’s bound to catch you here at least once this week, and he doesn’t mind doing a little work in such a cozy place anyway. if he sees you, great. if not, also great. he’s been more productive the past two days than he has all month.

he gets lucky on the third day, because he hears a familiar laugh at the door and his ears perk up like an excited puppy. he sees you holding the door open for someone, and he tries to not make it obvious that he’s staring. you’re wearing one of his hoodies. if he had any doubts about this, now they’re all erased, because you’re wearing one of his hoodies. he didn’t even remember giving it to you, so it must have been one you stole from him. it’s old too, he can tell there’s a hole near the wrist that you’re trying to not accidentally slip a finger through. he keeps flicking his eyes up to you as you ask for your usual, mouthing the words along with you just to make sure he’s still got it. café con leche, sprinkle of cinnamon. when you turn around after paying, mingyu ducks his head down and goes back to work. he won’t approach you just yet, so he tries to lay low.

but you saw him the moment you walked in. a big dude like that? he sticks out immediately. your blood ran cold when you caught him staring at you, mentally cursing yourself for not changing shirts before you left the house. it might be a little pathetic, but you slept in this hoodie last night. the heat in your place hasn’t been working well and it was unusually cold, so you needed the extra coverage. this hoodie was the first thing you pulled from your closet, and you were too lazy to find something else. you won’t admit being wrapped up in mingyu’s scent helped you have the best sleep you’ve gotten since the break up. you try to ignore the feeling of mingyu’s eyes on you as you order, and when you turn back to the seating area you laugh to yourself seeing mingyu look away like he wasn’t boring holes into your back. you scan the room for an empty spot and find one, but your own eyes pull back to mingyu. you wait at the counter for your drink, and take a deep breath before walking over.

“should i go ahead and sit with you, or did you wanna stare a little bit longer?” you ask once you reach mingyu’s table, his head snapping up in shock at you approaching him without noticing.

“uh, i, um, i wasn’t, this isn’t what it looks like,” he blubbers, and you roll your eyes.

“you know if you wanted to talk to me you can just call,” you mumble as you pull the seat out and sit down.

“hey, i’m actually working,” he says, sliding his laptop around to prove it. “maybe i’m just here to enjoy the ambiance.”

“fine,” you nod, sipping your drink and loving the way it instantly puts you at ease. “don’t let me interrupt.” you start pulling out your own things, setting up your laptop before deciding you might want to read instead. you compromise and send some emails first, the rapid sound of your typing somehow comforting to mingyu. he resettles himself, accidentally bumping your leg with his under the table.

“sorry,” he whispers.

“it’s okay,” you reply, a sympathetic grin on your face. “with your long ass legs i’m used to it.”

“still,” he tries not to smile back like an idiot. “sorry.”

you fall back into silence, both of you working on your own things and “enjoying the ambiance.” you’re not sure how much time passes before mingyu interrupts the quiet.

“hey,” he whispers, grabbing your attention. he nods to your laptop and asks, “what are you doing?”

“i’m working, mingyu,” you laugh. “what are you doing?”

“working,” he replies quickly. “been a busy week for me.”

“hm, same here.”

“cold too,” he tries, smiling proudly when you shift in your seat. he caught you. “did you magically lose all your other hoodies and jackets, or does someone miss stealing my clothes?”

“i didn’t steal this,” you counter, accusing finger pointed in his direction. “you insisted i take this one because you didn’t want it anymore but you said it was too sentimental to donate. i did you a favor by taking this ratty old thing.”

“but you kept it,” he says happily, finishing his coffee and pointing to your long empty mug. “you want another?”

“sure,” you reply sheepishly, “a café co-”

“café con leche, sprinkle of cinnamon,” mingyu finishes in unison with you. then a sly smile as he says, “i remember, baby. be right back.”

“what the hell did you say to mingyu?” you bark at seungcheol over the phone. “why was he at my coffeeshop this morning? and why’s he suddenly calling me baby all casual like we’re still dating?”

“this is news to me,” cheol says, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. “i didn’t say anything to him. at least not anything i think he heard. that boyfriend of yours can be an airhead sometimes.”

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you grumble.

“but he bought you coffee this morning?”

“he told you?!”

“i’m not at liberty to say,” cheol laughs. “just enjoy it, y/n. whatever he’s up to, it can’t hurt to see where it goes.”

“i hate you both,” you groan, hanging up as cheol mumbles a “right, sure.” when the call is over, you fall back down onto your bed, mind working top speed to decide what to do next. you could move and change your name, leaving mingyu and cheol behind. that’s a bit dramatic. you could tell cheol to get fucked, but he’d find a way to bring mingyu into it. and mingyu. you don’t know what to do about him. you could just ask him to leave you alone, and you think he would. but a little part of you does want to see where this goes.

you wake up the next morning to the smell of something coming from your kitchen. you rush up, afraid you somehow left dinner on the stove and you’re seconds away from burning the building down. but when you crash into the kitchen, ungracefully, you’re met with mingyu’s muscular back as he looks for something in your fridge. at the sound of your frantic movements, he looks over his shoulder and grumbles out a good morning in the deepest voice you’ve ever heard. you’re stunned, not totally sure how he got here, and totally confused as to why he’s shirtless.

“um, whatcha doin?” you ask casually.

“i was gonna make french toast,” mingyu starts out, coming closer to you. “but you’re out of milk. so now it’s just eggs and toast.” as he gets closer, his hands reach out for your waist, and you let him pull you against his warm chest. “is that ok?”

“mhm,” you nod, not sure what to do with your hands. you don’t want to put them on his chest, afraid the skin to skin contact would ignite something dangerous in you. you also don’t want to put them around his neck because that territory feels just as dangerous. so that leaves you with your hands bunched up by your chest and mingyu looking on, amused.

“afraid to touch me?” he asks, a smirk on his stupidly kissable lips.

“no, um, i just-” you stutter, but what sounds like a phone alarm cuts you off. was mingyu baking something?

“you gonna get that, baby?” he asks, seemingly referring to the alarm but you don’t know where it’s coming from.

“what? it’s not mine,” you say, and you miss what mingyu says next as you’re jolted awake by something furry laying on your chest. you carefully open your eyes, afraid that maybe mingyu just forgot to shave and somehow he would be the one on top of you right now. but it’s just fred, and the alarm is yours. your phone is going off, reminding you that you’re probably gonna be late to work. you scramble to get up and start your day, but you can’t stop thinking about mingyu.

about halfway through the day, you get a text from cheol asking if you want to get dinner that night. his friend jeonghan, who’s always kinda scared you, has tickets to some concert out of town and cheol wants to make it into a big trip. cheol wants you to come, and he knows you two will be the only ones competent enough to plan the whole thing so he needs you as back up tonight. you agree, eager to get a break from work and from mingyu. going out of town will be a nice distraction, and even though jeonghan is intimidating he’s still really fun to be around.

speak of the devil, he’s the first to wrap you up in a hug when you get to the guys’ table that night, and he whispers something to you about mingyu being annoying and you’re better off without him. you smile at the condolence and let him drag you into the open seat next to him. he and cheol start filling you in on the plans, when you’ll leave, where you’ll stay, day of the concert, etc. you give some advice on things to do in your free time, and jeonghan types it all into his phone while cheol price checks your options.

“so there’s one airbnb with enough beds for each of us, but it’s $100 more a night, compared to this one with a queen, a twin, and a sofa bed, which is the cheapest option and also closer to everything we want to do,” cheol says, nose still in his phone.

“book the cheap one then,” you shrug. “one of y’all can take the queen bed as long as i don’t get put on the pull out.”

“i can take the pull out,” jeonghan offers. “i’ll sleep wherever.”

“and i’ll take the twin,” cheol says. “gives me my own room.”

“so we won’t be able to hear you snoring?” you ask. “thank god.”

“ignoring that,” cheol mumbles, writing something down on his napkin. “so that would make it $80 even for each of us for the whole weekend. i can book it and you can send me your money whenever.”

“sounds good,” jeonghan nods as he pours you all more soju.

“wait, that makes no sense,” you start. “it’s only $80? for the whole weekend?”

“yep,” cheol nods, waving the napkin in your face. “wanna check my work, teacher?”

“no, jack ass,” you laugh, pushing his hand out of the way before graciously taking the glass jeonghan hands you. “just shocked you found such a steal.”

“speaking of stealing things,” jeonghan says, “whose car are we taking?”

“mine is in the shop,” cheol sighs. “and y/n doesn’t drive.”

“guess we’ll take mingyu’s then,” jeonghan decides. cheol’s eyes flick over to you on instinct, and when he doesn’t see a reaction from you he smiles.

“cool, i can pick everyone up on friday then?” he asks, and you nod. with everything planned, your conversation can stray off to other topics while the drinks flow, and that’s how you end up flipping through jeonghan’s tinder for him later in the night. you’re maybe too tipsy to be doing this, but jeonghan likes the chaos of it, and cheol is just happy to see you having fun. he hopes this trip will help with that too.

cheol comes to pick you up, as promised, but he texts you when he pulls up that you’ll have to sit in the back. you get out of your building and recognize mingyu’s car immediately, tossing your bag in the trunk before grabbing the door to the backseat. when you slide in, you almost jump out of your skin when you see mingyu sitting back there too.

“told you it’d surprise her,” you hear cheol and jeonghan laugh, but you’re too busy trying to sputter out a question.

“hey y/n,” mingyu says shyly.

“hi?” you reply, looking to cheol who’s staring at you through the rearview mirror. “um? hello?”

“hey,” he smiles. “you buckled?”

“no she’s not,” mingyu replies for you, and you roll your eyes before you put the seatbelt in place.

“sorry, but what’s he doing here?” you ask. “you stole the car and the owner?”

“no, he’s coming with us,” jeonghan replies. “i thought i told you i had four tickets to the show?”

“no?” you say, voice at a higher pitch than you’d like it to be.

“is there a problem, y/n?” cheol asks, looking at you through the rearview again so if you really weren’t comfortable with this he would see.

“no,” you sigh after a second. “just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“for the record,” mingyu whispers, leaning close to you, “this was not part of my plan. i swear.”

“but it was part of mine!” cheol jokes, and mingyu kicks his chair. “hey, don’t make me pull this car over.”

“you mean my car?!” mingyu screeches back, and you lean up to whisper in jeonghan’s ear.

“why did you think bringing these two on a trip would be fun?” you ask loud enough for cheol and gyu to hear, making the car erupt in whines and cries while jeonghan laughs. it’s gonna be a long ride, you think to yourself.

you’re able to sleep most of the way there, only getting interrupted every once in a while when mingyu moves his long limbs to get comfortable. each time it’s an awkward half smile in apology, and you just nod in recognition. you don’t really want him here, to be honest. this trip was supposed to take your mind off him. now how will that be possible?

mingyu feels bad for surprising you like this, really. cheol asked him to come on this trip and didn’t say you’d be joining them until it was too late for mingyu to back out, so he wants a minute alone with you to explain. he wants to tell you that he can hang back, if you want to enjoy some time with the guys sans your ex boyfriend. he’ll do whatever makes you happy, like usual.

mingyu’s desire to talk to you is what leads him to follow you to your room at the airbnb, saying he’s looking for the bathroom but really he wants to apologize for the ambush. you turn back to the door once you’ve placed your things on the bed, jumping when you see his large form cowering in the doorway.

“bathroom’s not in here, gyu,” you tell him. “think it’s the next door on the left.”

“i’m not looking for the bathroom,” he says, taking a careful step into your room. “i wanted to say i’m sorry, for this. i didn��t know you were coming either, or else i would’ve backed out. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“i’m not uncomfortable around you, mingyu,” you say firmly. “i just-”

“you forgot your stuff dude,” cheol says, popping up behind mingyu and handing him his bag. then he looks at you quickly, smiling before he teases, “i see you’ve found the honeymoon suite?”

“the-what?” you ask, confused.

“you ended up with the biggest bed, y/n, so you gotta share with the friendly giant over here,” cheol explains as he nods in mingyu’s direction. “he’s definitely not fitting on the twin with me.”

“and i don’t like him enough to share a bed with him!” jeonghan shouts from somewhere else in the house.

“you’re fucking kidding me.”

“no time to complain right now,” cheol says as he checks his watch. “we’ve got dinner reservations. mingyu, bathroom is next door, you might wanna change your shirt before we leave. i don’t wanna stare at y/n’s drool while i eat.”

“my what?” you ask, looking at mingyu to see what cheol is referring to. there’s a spot near mingyu’s collarbone that looks slightly wet, and your hand flies to your mouth as you gasp, “i drooled on you?! how? why didn’t you push me off?!”

“you were asleep!” mingyu replies, voice an octave or two higher. “i felt bad! you just kinda fell onto my shoulder, and i didn’t wanna wake you up!”

“we’re leaving in five minutes, whether you’re ready or not,” cheol tells mingyu. he walks away, and mingyu grabs a new shirt out of his bag before heading back to the door.

“uh, gyu?” you call, and he turns immediately. “s-sorry..for, that, i guess,” you say, pointing to his shirt. “next time you have full permission to push me. promise i won’t get mad.”

“it’s okay,” he shrugs. “you know i don’t mind.” and with that, he leaves for the bathroom. you can tell there’s a blush on your cheeks, so you close the door and lock it while you take a minute to chill out. you decide to change too, not wanting to wear your old sweats to dinner even if it’s supposed to be laid back. you’re afraid now that you’ve got drool on your own shirt, so you change into something casual quickly and then join the guys in the living room.

once you’re there, cheol checks that everyone’s good to go, and you all walk out to the car. you don’t catch the way mingyu stares at you the whole time, or maybe you’re just ignoring it. you’re wearing a matching set with a jean jacket, nothing extravagant, but mingyu has the exact same outfit packed in his bag. you bought the sets together, for a last minute trip you took a year ago. mingyu wanted to get matching vacation shirts and you vehemently refused, so you compromised with a his and hers loungewear set. once again, mingyu’s heart soars at the little nod to your time together, because clearly you’re not as detached from it as you claim to be.

at dinner, jeonghan insists on sitting next to you again, so you’re squished into the booth next to him while mingyu looks on in not-so-hidden jealousy. he’s sitting across from you, scanning the menu and trying not to flick his eyes up to you. jeonghan starts talking about what he wants to try, and cheol asks if they should just order a bunch of plates and share everything.

“eh, you guys can do that, but there’s really just one thing i wanted to try,” you say, pushing the menu away now that you’ve found what you want.

“lemme guess,” cheol says as his eyes scan the menu. “you’re gonna get something lame, like chicken alfredo.”

“no,” you shake your head. “i’m trying something new, but it’s not as tomato heavy as the stuff you want, which all sounds nasty, by the way.”

“why’d you agree to come to an italian restaurant if you think the food is nasty?” cheol counters.

“you all seemed excited about trying it,” you shrug. “and like i said, there’s one thing i want. that’s enough.”

“what’s that one thing?” jeonghan cuts in, trying to stop cheol from bickering further.

“let me guess this time,” mingyu smiles. your eyes meet his and you blush under his gaze, thankful for the low lighting at the table. hopefully the guys don’t catch it. you nod and encourage mingyu to take a stab at it, and he pretends to look at the menu again even though this was the first thing he noticed. “you’re getting the gnocchi in the truffle sauce, but you really agreed to italian because you want to get tiramisu for dessert.”

“i, yeah, you got me,” you stammer out.

“what drink is she gonna get?” cheol asks with a smile, head leaning on his hand as he watches in amusement.

“hm,” mingyu looks at the menu seriously. “maybe an espresso with the tiramisu, but i bet you’ll try to make us order the digestif spritz thing at the end of the meal.”

“shut up,” you say, kicking his foot lightly under the table. “i was gonna try it myself, i won’t force y’all to try it if you don’t want to.” jeonghan, not picking up on the eyes you and mingyu are making at each other, joins in.

“i thought about trying that too,” he nods, looking at cheol and asking what he wants to order to share. while they discuss an inordinate amount of food, you’re just staring at mingyu, who’s looking at you smugly. finally you just shake your head and look back down at the menu, judging whatever the other boys decided to order. when the waiter comes back, mingyu smiles proudly as you order exactly what he predicted. mingyu nudges your leg playfully under the table, and you’re about to fight back when jeonghan cuts through your thoughts. “wait, did i tell you guys about the dream i had in the car?”

“i didn’t know you fell asleep,” cheol shakes his head.

“i did, when you were complaining about that girl who wouldn’t call you back.”

“hey!”

“anyway,” jeonghan starts again. “i had a dream that i was at work and y/n came in,” he smiles at you. “i guess you complaining about your job made me subconsciously think we should hire you at my office?”

“anything is better than my job right now,” you laugh, imagining how nothing would get done if you and jeonghan worked together.

“but you came in, and i was going to start training you, and then mingyu comes out of the boss’s office and is like no she’s here to take your job-”

“wait, mingyu was there?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“yeah, i was there?” mingyu teases. “you in love with me or something?”

“y/n why is that so shocking,” cheol asks more as a statement than a question. “i told you about my mingyu dream, we’ve all got one.”

“please don’t bring that up again,” mingyu groans, head dropping. you smile at the memory of cheol’s legendary mingyu dream, which was basically just dream mingyu being so drunk he somehow climbed a telephone pole and got stuck so he called cheol to come help because he’s “strong and manly.”

“y/n do you have a mingyu dream?” jeonghan asks, and you blush deep enough that they can clearly see it this time, despite the lighting.

“um, i don’t really remember any from when, uh, from recently,” you start. “i guess i had one the other night, but it was one of those dreams that i barely remembered when i woke up. i just know mingyu was there.”

“where was i?” he asks, totally invested now.

“yeah, where was he?” cheol parrots.

“um, my kitchen?”

“can he even fit in there?” jeonghan jokes, but you ignore him.

“so i was cooking for you?” mingyu pesters you, and you nod.

“well, kinda,” you reply. “i don’t really remember.”

“was it a dirty dream?” cheol jokes. “is that why you don’t remember?”

“no, asshole,” you reply. thankfully, the first round of plates arrives to the table then and everyone is distracted for a while. you have to shake the feeling of mingyu staring at you though. it’s like he knows there’s more to the dream than you let on, but you’re not gonna unpack it with the other two sitting right here.

“y/n,” mingyu calls your name quietly. you look up and find him holding a small plate out very politely, and then he gives you his sweetest smile before asking, “can i try a gnocchi?”

“sure,” you nod, scraping one off your plate onto his. “it’s really good.”

“give me one,” cheol says, and before he can even finish you shake your head.

“nope,” you say as you pop another piece into your mouth. “you didn’t ask nicely.”

“whatever,” he grumbles.

the rest of dinner is nice, the food is great, you got your tiramisu and your weird drink at the end of the night, and cheol and jeonghan got sloshed on an expensive bottle of wine. you’re laughing with mingyu as you guide the two drunkards back to the car, struggling to get cheol to put his seatbelt on. once the toddlers are settled you turn to ask mingyu if he’s gonna drive, just to see him waiting for you by the passenger side.

“what are you doing?” you ask quietly.

“being a gentleman,” he replies simply, opening the door for you and handing you the jacket you almost left in your seat. you thank him quietly, heart picking up speed. he closes the door for you before he gets to the driver’s side, and then you’re on your way back to the airbnb. mingyu wordlessly hands you the aux, and you take it as you shuffle your library, not concerned with whatever song comes on. the first one to play is mary’s song by taylor swift, a song that has always reminded you of the way mingyu loved you. for a second, you let yourself reminisce and feel the warmth that mingyu’s love always gave you. absentmindedly, your hand reaches for his on the center console, and when you realize what you’ve done you just pull back like it was an accident. mingyu knows it wasn’t, though. he drives on in content, happy just to be sharing this moment with you, regardless of the circumstances.

back at the house, the guys let you take the bathroom first so you can shower. you promise to be quick, but while you’re in there you relish having a moment to yourself. it’s always nice, even when you’re with people you love, to have a second to yourself on a trip like this. it turns out doing you dirty this time, because the longer you’re left to your own thoughts the more they wander back to mingyu. back to how much you love him, how much he loves you, and how much that scares you. it wasn’t like you left because you didn’t care about him anymore. you were afraid you cared too much, and that it would end up hurting you one day. as all these thoughts pass through your head, you notice you’ve started crying. the shower quickly wipes your tears away, so you finish up and try to collect yourself as you get dressed. you take a couple extra minutes to pamper yourself, using the products the airbnb host left out for guests to try and steady your breathing. you take note of the fancy lotion, contemplating whether or not to steal this one, when jeonghan yelling in the hallway brings you back to reality.

clean and ready for bed, you emerge from the shower with your things in your arms. you almost drop them when you bump into mingyu leaving your room, arms laden with blankets and pillows. you look at him confused before asking what’s going on.

“where are you going?” you ask as you move further into the bedroom, noticing that mingyu has moved all of his things.

“i’m setting up my bed,” he replies.

“i thought you were sleeping with me?” you say, noticing too late how that sounds. “i mean, wait, sorry-”

“yeah, i was supposed to sleep in here, but jeonghan said i can make a bed on the floor and sleep in the living room with him,” mingyu explains with a small smile.

“why?”

“i don’t wanna bother you, y/n,” he says. “i don’t mind.”

he stands there, staring at you, almost like he’s waiting for you to say something. you want to tell him he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor, you want to tell him it’s not a bother, but above all you want to tell him not to leave. with an aching heart you realize, you really want him to stay. but he takes your quiet demeanor as a sign to go, so he turns around and steps back into the hallway.

“mingyu,” you call out quickly, pulling his attention back to you.

“yeah y/n?” he asks, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“mingyu,” you repeat, this time with a touch of sadness in your voice. “just come to bed with me.”

his heart jumps into his throat for a few reasons, first, because you asked him to come to bed with you. to share space with you after so long. he could jump and clap with joy right now, but the sad way you said his name is the other reason his heart is in his throat. that’s when he notices your puffy eyes, and he asks quietly, “have you been crying?”

you don’t need to respond. mingyu already knows. he drops everything in his arms, kicking them out of the way so he can wrap you in his arms instead. you sigh into his chest, willing the tears burning at your eyes to go away, but you let a few slip through as you whisper “i’m sorry” over and over again right above where mingyu’s heart is.

“baby,” he says, pulling your gaze up to his face, then, when your eyes meet his warm ones, “my love. what are you sorry for?”

“for running away,” you whisper. “i got sc-scared, and i’m s-sorry,” you explain as the tears start to fall again. mingyu wraps you back up in his embrace, awkwardly waddling you both toward the bed. his sounds of struggle make you giggle, a happy reprieve from the heart breaking cries mingyu so deeply wishes he could stop for you, but he knows you need to get this out.

“what were you scared of?” he asks as he helps you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands wrapped tightly in his.

“you,” you laugh lightly, making mingyu whine. you smile and put your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his soft skin as you continue. “it was like one day i woke up and realized how much you loved me. and that was scary. you’ve always been my mingyu, you always will be, but life has just changed so much from when we were kids. things aren’t as easy anymore, and i guess i preemptively got scared that we wouldn’t be easy anymore. the idea of losing you,” you take a deep breath, “of you not loving me anymore one day. that scared the shit out of me.”

“things haven’t changed that much then,” mingyu says with that teasing lilt in his voice you know so well. he looks at you mischievously as he goes on, “you’re still that little kid who runs away when our games stopped going your way.”

“don’t be a dick,” you laugh, head falling onto mingyu’s shoulder. “i know it was silly. but it’s like, once i made that decision, once i decided i had to leave, i couldn’t just come running back the next day when i missed you. i had to sit with it. i made the decision, i needed to face the consequences.”

“you missed me the next day?” mingyu asks, and you scoff.

“you haven’t changed either,” you tell him. “you’re still the world’s best selective listener.”

“i heard what you said,” he nods. “and i won’t say i understand it, but i still love you, y/n. i can promise you that will never change.”

“but-”

“no buts,” he cuts in, pushing your head off his shoulder so he can cup your cheeks and make sure you’re looking at him as he says, “i’m yours. till the end of forever.”

when you were maybe fifteen - that awkward age where you wanted a boyfriend but didn’t want to admit it - mingyu was over at your house. you were so into him, but didn’t realize it yet. mingyu was warming up to the idea of you being his girlfriend, but he was afraid of asking and you turning him down. so you just remained closer than friends, and kept doing what you always did together.

that day, you were trying to do homework, but mingyu kept going through this pile of things under your desk. your mom made you clean up the storage closet, and you had found y/n relics that you wanted to keep. one of which mingyu was digging for.

“i’m telling you, it’s not in there,” you say for the millionth time, laughing when he bumps his head somewhere underneath your desk.

“ouch,” he whines, and you kick his butt to add to the pain. “ouch!”

“get up!” you whine back, pulling at his ankle. “even if you find my diary i’m not gonna let you read it.”

“yeah, but,” he says as he crawls out, “i am bigger and stronger than you, y/n.”

“so?”

“so i could throw you if i wanted.”

“then i’d tell your mom you’re being mean to me.”

“she knows you probably deserve it at this point in our relationship,” he mumbles. your ears warm at hearing him call this a relationship, but the way he’s not moving his right hand from under your desk is more important to you right now.

“whatcha got there?” you ask calmly.

“nothing,” he smiles the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“show me both your hands.”

“no.”

“mingyu!”

“y/n!”

“why do you even wanna see it,” you whine as you join him on the ground, trying to swipe for your diary in his hand. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i’m looking for something,” he says as he starts flipping through the pages of your pink velvet powerpuff girls diary. you laugh together over the many different ways you spelled diary as a child, until he stops on a page that makes you sick to your stomach.

it’s a picture. of you. and mingyu. on your wedding day. you’re in a big poofy dress and you’ve drawn mingyu with...a ponytail? and a bowtie bigger than his head. it’s clearly the two of you, because baby y/n took the courtesy of labeling you both for future historians (mingyu) to use against you. then down at the bottom, in horrible handwriting, are the words “me and gyu till the end of forever.”

after you’ve both taken a moment to stare at the page, you in disbelief and mingyu in complete adoration, he tears it right out.

“wha-”

“bye y/n,” he says, standing up and heading to your door.

“where are you going? give me that page back!” you shriek. you want to get up and take it from him, but he was right: he’s bigger and stronger than you, so that wouldn’t end well. you kick at his ankles instead, but he just folds the paper up and puts it in his pocket before making a face and leaving.

you didn’t think about that day, or that drawing, until just now. until mingyu said those words to you again. you watch in shock and admiration as he finds his wallet amongst his things and pulls out a small, folded piece of paper. he hands it to you, but you already know what it is. you rub it between your fingers, letting every moment that you’ve known mingyu, that you’ve been loved by mingyu, wash over you. you want to cry again. his love is so strong that it makes you feel the most intense emotions, but right now you just feel...content. you hand the paper back to him, and wave away the questioning look in his eyes.

“like i said, i’m sorry gyu,” you start out. “i’m sorry i ever doubted how much you loved me. i’m sorry i ever doubted how much i love you, too. it’s just scary. we’ve got so many big life things ahead of us, and i know i can’t do it without you by my side, but i don’t want our love to change. i always want you to be my playful, clumsy, perfect mingyu. and i just let my thoughts..and my pride..get in the way of that. so i’m sorry, lovebug.”

“lovebug?” he smiles, his whole face blushing at your favorite nickname for him resurfacing. he stares at you deeply, his hands itching in his lap to hold you again, and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you. instead he lets out a breath and says, “i’m sorry too.”

“what do you have to be sorry for?” you laugh nervously.

“for ever letting you think for a second that i don’t love you as much as i do,” he replies. “i’ll work harder from now on.”

“no,” you say quietly, and you watch the confusion wash over mingyu’s features. “let me. i think it’s my turn to show you how much i love you. you’ve been doing it for years.”

“well if you insist,” he smiles shyly, eyes flicking down to your lips. you don’t have to nod for him to know it’s ok, and then he’s kissing you again. when you pull back, mingyu’s eyes are still closed, savoring the feeling of having your love all to himself again.

“cmon lovebug,” you whisper over his lips, “let’s go to bed.”

the next morning, you wake up sweating. your body amazingly forgot what it was like sleeping next to your mingyu shaped space heater, and it’s made worse by the fact that his arms have been tightly wrapped around you all night. you laugh when you wiggle and he pulls you closer, surprised that you can still breathe despite his tight grip. you get a hand free from his hold and try your old trick to get mingyu to unwrap you, lightly flicking his nose until he brings an arm up to swat you away.

you use this as a chance to slide out of bed, determined to make it to the kitchen to make good on your promise to mingyu last night. you want to show him how much you love him, and the first step to reminding him of that is to make his favorite breakfast. you think there’s enough ingredients in the kitchen, cheol packed groceries so you wouldn’t have to rely on take out all weekend. so you find one of mingyu’s sweaters and pull it over your pajamas before heading to the kitchen. you put your mingyu playlist on so you have some quiet background noise, careful not to wake jeonghan up in the next room. as you’re searching the spice cabinet, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“why are you awake right now,” mingyu’s groggy voice whines into your neck. “come back to bed.”

“no,” you say simply. “i’m hungry. you can go back to bed and i’ll be there in a minute.”

“no,” mingyu replies. “miss you too much.”

“baby.”

“yes?”

“no, i’m calling you a baby,” you laugh, turning in mingyu’s arms once you find what you needed. “can you at least let go so i can cook?”

“what are you making?” he asks, loosening his grip but not letting go completely. you shuffle back to the kitchen island, mingyu coming with you, his hands still lightly on your waist.

“french toast,” you say shyly, feeling the warmth of mingyu’s smile without having to look at him.

“i love you, you know that?” he whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek quickly before he lets you go. you hear him shuffle to the sink, water running as he asks, “how can i help?”

“can you slice the bread for me?” you ask. “and warm the pan up.”

“yes chef!”

your giggles at mingyu’s behavior are what finally pull jeonghan out of his deep sleep, and he smirks when he sees you two moving happily around the kitchen together. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment so he just snaps a picture and texts it to cheol, hearing the man react with a cheer once the text goes through. jeonghan laughs and rolls back over, falling asleep to the sound of mingyu humming a song to you as the sweet smell of breakfast fills the house.

when it’s time for you all to head back home, mingyu offers to drive and the other two insist on you taking the front seat. mingyu starts planning who to drop off first, beginning with jeonghan, then cheol, then you.

“you’re dropping y/n off last, hm?” cheol says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “starting the honeymoon already?”

“shut up,” you groan.

“yeah, shut up,” mingyu mimics you. “it just makes sense though, y/n’s place is closest to mine and i need to drive my own car home. so it works out.”

“sure,” cheol nods. “no ulterior motives.”

“really!” mingyu shrieks, his ears turning red so you know this is getting to him. “i mean, i want to see fred too, but-”

“babe, stop talking,” you say quietly, placing your hand on his in the center console. “you’re just egging him on.”

“please listen to her,” jeonghan grumbles, obviously trying to sleep.

“she called him babe though,” cheol whispers to jeonghan, and they start giggling like little girls.

“ok, now everybody stop talking!” you say, looking at the boys in the rearview mirror. “quiet game, starting now. first one to speak has to buy lunch.”

“and gas!” mingyu adds.

“hey, doesn’t that mean mingyu just lost?” cheol asks, and you shake your head. “but he spoke first!” you just stare harder. “you’re playing favorites.”

“no i’m not,” you reply. “game starts now.”

after mingyu drops jeonghan and cheol off (who bought mcdonald’s and filled mingyu’s gas tank), he finally takes you home. when he pulls up outside your building, he stalls awkwardly at the wheel, unsure of what to do with his hands. you watch in admiration, a smirk playing at your lips. when mingyu looks over to you at last, he smiles shyly.

“hey.”

“hey,” you laugh. “you gonna come in?”

“really?” he asks, whole face perking up.

“either come in with me or kiss me goodbye, it’s up to you-”

“what if i come in with you and we make out in your apartment?” he asks with a smile of his own.

“deal,” you smile, “let me just get my bags.”

“nope. i got em,” mingyu says as he rushes out of the car, running around the front so he can get to your door in time to open it for you. you start to protest, and mingyu’s response is, “complain and i won’t come in!”

“you’re a liar,” you laugh.

“maybe, but i’m still not letting you carry anything,” he says while you get your keys out. when you’re done you turn and see him staring at the bags in the back really hard.

“what are you doing? trying to solve a math problem?” you tease, and mingyu looks at you with a blush on his cheeks.

“um, no, sorry,” he shakes his head, pulling your things out of the back before reaching to close the trunk.

“you’re not bringing your stuff?” you ask nervously.

“you want me to?” he asks hopefully, and you nod. he smiles and grabs his bag too, hoisting everything onto one arm before joining you by the door. his sweaty hand reaches for yours, squeezing it tightly as you open the door.

you make the familiar walk back to your apartment, mingyu’s heart beating out of his chest the closer you get. he’s waited for this moment for weeks, coming back home with you. but that’s just it, he’s been racking his brain over what could’ve scared you into running away, and he finally figured it out on the ride here. right before you broke up with him, he started talking about moving in together. he hadn’t asked you yet, but he was planting the seeds for it, and that must have scared you off. now he’s worried that once he walks through the door, he’s won’t want to leave ever again. he just hopes this time you’re ready for him to stay.

when you get to your apartment, you try to shake mingyu’s hand out of yours so you can open the door, but he just whines and tells you to deal. laughing as you stumble into your place, mingyu looks around excitedly only for his face to fall.

“fred’s not here,” he says with a growing pout.

“nope,” you shake your head. “he’s at my mom’s because i was gone for the weekend. sorry i didn’t tell you.”

“you tricked me,” mingyu says accusingly as he places the bags on his arm on your kitchen table.

“yeah, well,” you shrug. “you would’ve come up anyway.”

“how is your mom, by the way?” he asks as he walks toward you “missing his favorite person?”

“hm, no?” you reply. “she actually said you were stinky and she never liked you.”

“she did not,” he says with a smile, snaking his arms around your waist. “tell her i say hi.”

“and mrs. kim?” you ask as you drape your arms across his broad shoulders.

“she’s good,” he nods. “thrilled that you didn’t give up on me. i got chewed out after the break, by the way, so thanks for that.”

“you’re welcome,” you tease, kissing his chin. mingyu smiles without letting it reach his eyes, and he takes a deep breath.

“speaking of,” he starts cautiously. “the..break up.”

“the bad time, yes,” you nod. “have i said i’m sorry about that today?”

“can we..talk about it a little more?” mingyu asks, and your heart clenches. “if you don’t want to, that’s fine, i just...have questions before we go back to being us.”

“go ahead,” you encourage him. “do you wanna sit down?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i’m good right here,” he says, squeezing your hips. “i just need to know what made you freak. was i coming on too strong with the moving in thing?”

“the what?” you ask, obviously confused.

“baby, i’ve been dropping hints since new year’s about moving in together,” he laughs. “you didn’t notice?”

“no?” you cry out. “why didn’t you just ask me?”

“i was scared!” he cries back. “why did you break up with me?”

“i was scared,” you joke in return. “i had no clue you wanted to move in with me.”

“well, i did,” he sighs. “i already have an extra key for you.”

“really?” you smile. he nods, and you lean your head on his shoulder as you reply. “you know my lease is up next month.”

“is it?” he replies, leaning his cheek on your forehead. “how convenient. i’ll make room in the closet then.”

“cool,” you smile, comfortably floating at the idea of living with mingyu. when mingyu clears his throat above you, you know what he wants. you pull him over to the couch as you say, “i know. i’ll explain.”

“kiss me first?” he asks, and you think about it.

“just one,” you say with a stern finger in his face, mingyu bites it, and then with your finger between his teeth he says, “no promises.” you pull away from him just for mingyu to reach back and cup your face, pulling you softly toward his lips. as soon as your lips meet you melt into him, his arms grabbing you so you’re sitting on his lap. “hey,” you say into his mouth, mingyu trying to kiss you deeper. “hey!” you giggle, pulling back. “i said one.”

“and i said no promises,” mingyu replies. “now cmere.”

“no,” you laugh, holding him at bay. “we need to talk.”

“i’m listening,” he says, playing with your hair.

“i was serious before when i said i was scared,” you start out. “but no, the move in thing wasn’t what scared me. i was, uh, i was out to lunch, with some of my friends, and one of them just got engaged-”

“who?”

“mingyu,” you whine. he mumbles out a sorry and let’s go of your hair, placing his hands on your hips. “she just got engaged, and we started talking about..wedding..stuff, and then the girls all turned to me.”

“oh?” mingyu asks with a smirk.

“yeah,” you nod. “and um, that freaked me out. they started asking why we hadn’t..weren’t..um, whatever. they started asking me questions, and i didn’t know what to tell them, and that just made me go down a very dark hole.”

“how dark?” mingyu asks with concern laced through his voice.

“dark like, what if you didn’t want to marry me? what if we got married and everything went bad? what if-”

“and you never thought to talk to me about it?” mingyu cuts you off.

“did i mention how sorry i am?” you try sheepishly. “that was the big life stuff i mentioned the other night. moving in, getting engaged. starting the rest of forever together. that’s scary stuff, and i forgot how easy you make things. i just got scared of the concept, i guess, and didn’t consider how you make everything feel okay.”

“i do?”

“yeah,” you nod. “you’ve made my life so wonderful, gyu. even though everything ahead of us scares the shit out of me, i can’t wait to do it all with you.”

“let’s wait on all the scary stuff,” he says, grabbing your hands to play with your fingers as he speaks. “we’ll take it step by step. starting with moving in together?”

“starting with that,” you agree. “i love you, kim mingyu.”

“i love you too baby.”

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lecsainz · 1 year

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Secret Crush

pairings: 2022 grid x driver!reader / fabio quartararo x driver!reader

warnings: grid of 2022, drivers being gossipers and acting like older siblings, seb as the father figure of the group and pierre being intrusive.

authors note: i started watching motogp not long ago, but I think it turned out great, and i can really picture this scene of them bothering Y/N and wanting to know who the boy was. just imagine them helping her get ready for the date and interrogating fabio about his intentions with Y/N. and I tried to include all the drivers but it's almost impossible 😭

word count: 2.6K

Y/N had always been a fan of Fabio Quartararo, the young frenchman who was making waves in the MotoGP world. So when she got a message from him on Instagram, she was over the moon.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he just messaged me!!" Y/N exclaimed to herself, pacing back and forth in her motorhome at the paddock.

She quickly composed a reply to Fabio's message, trying to sound cool and casual, but her hands were shaking so much she could barely type.

Y/N: "Hey, what's up?"

She hit send, then collapsed onto her bed, heart pounding with excitement. A few moments later, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Fabio: "Not much, just hanging out at home. Saw your race last weekend, you were amazing! How's the f1 life treating you?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, Fabio had actually watched her race! She started pacing again, muttering to herself.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he thinks I'm amazing! What do I even say? I have to be cool, I can't sound too eager."

She took a deep breath and composed another reply.

S/N: "Thanks! f1 life is treating me well, but it's tough out here on the road. How about you? How do you deal with all the travel and pressure?"

Again, she hit send, then waited anxiously for a response. It came quickly.

Fabio: "I know what you mean, the travel can be exhausting. But I just try to stay focused on the racing and not let the other stuff distract me. You seem to be doing a great job of that too!"

Y/N couldn't stop grinning he was being so nice to her! She paced around her motorhome again, feeling giddy.

"Oh my god, he's so sweet! Maybe he's interested in me too? No, no, don't get ahead of yourself, Y/N. Just be cool, be cool."

She took a deep breath and composed another message.

S/N: "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. Maybe we could grab a drink sometime and chat about racing?"

She hit send, then waited nervously for a reply. It came a few moments later.

Fabio: "Sure, that sounds great! I'll be in town for the next weekend race, how about we meet up then?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, she was actually going to meet him in person! She let out a squeal of excitement and did a little victory dance around her motorhome.

"I can't believe this is happening! This is going to be the best weekend ever!" she said to herself, grinning from ear to ear.

As Y/N read his message, she started to hyperventilate. She had just asked him out on a date, and now he was actually interested in meeting up with her. She looked up from her phone to see the other F1 drivers staring at her in confusion.

"What's going on, Y/N?" Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you look like you've seen a ghost." Lando chimed in.

Y/N blushed and put her phone down, trying to act nonchalant. "Oh, nothing, just messaging with someone." she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

But the other drivers weren't fooled. They crowded around her, trying to get a look at her phone.

"Who are you texting, Y/N? Is it a secret crush?" Carlos teased, poking her in the ribs.

"None of your business, Carlos," Y/N replied, trying to hide her smile.

"Ooh, it is a secret crush!" Lando chimed in, winking at Y/N. "Come on, you can tell us. We won't judge."

Y/N shook her head, still trying to keep the conversation vague. "It's nothing, guys. Just catching up with a friend." she said, hoping they wouldn't push the subject any further.

But the other drivers weren't going to let it go that easily. They bombarded her with questions and guesses, trying to figure out who the mystery person was.

"Is it a driver? A mechanic? A fan?" Yuki asked, grinning.

Y/N swatted his hand away and rolled her eyes. "No, it's just Fabio Quartararo." she said, trying to sound casual. “But please don't make a big deal out of it." she said, biting her lip.

The other drivers looked at each other in confusion.

"Wait, Fabio Quartararo? As in the MotoGP rider?" Pierre asked.

"Yeah! And I just asked him out on a date." Y/N said, blushing even harder.

The other drivers erupted into laughter. "Y/N, you little devil! I had no idea you had it in you." Daniel said, clapping her on the back.

Y/N frowned at them. "It's not like that! He just wants to talk about racing." she protested.

"Sure, sure, we believe you." Checo said, winking at her.

Daniel suddenly spoke up. "You know, Y/N, our little sister is growing up so fast. It seems like just yesterday you was learning how to drive, and now you’re all grown up." he said, grinning.

Y/N groaned, "Oh god, please don't start with that 'little sister' crap again. It's bad enough that everyone else sees me that way."

But it was too late. The other drivers had already caught on to Daniel's joke, and they started to join in. "Yeah, I remember when we used to have to keep an eye on her in the paddock. Now she's all independent and texting boys." Pierre laughed.

As the group continued to tease her about her crush on Fabio, Y/N suddenly felt a wave of panic wash over her.

"Guys, stop, please. It's not like anything is going to happen anyway," she said, feeling uncertain.

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, looking at her curiously. "You've got a date with him, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling her stomach churning with nerves. "Yeah, but I don't know what to do. I've never been on a real date before."

The other drivers looked at her sympathetically, their teasing forgotten. "Hey, don't worry about it." Alex said reassuringly. "Just be yourself and have fun. It's just a date, not a marriage proposal."

Esteban added, "And whatever you do, don't order spaghetti. That's just asking for trouble."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Esteban shrugged, "It's messy and hard to eat. Not exactly the most attractive thing to do on a date."

The other drivers nodded in agreement, giving her thumbs up and high fives and Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their silly advice.

Sebastian noticed Y/N looking a bit nervous and approached her with a gentle smile. "Hey, Y/N, can I give you some advice?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

Y/N nodded eagerly, grateful for his guidance. "Please, Seb, I could use all the help I can get." she said.

Sebastian chuckled. "Well, first of all, just be yourself. Don't try to impress him by being someone you're not." he advised.

Y/N nodded, taking his words to heart. "Okay, I can do that." she said.

Sebastian continued, "And remember, if he's not interested, it's not the end of the world. There are plenty of other guys out there who would be lucky to go on a date with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more confident. "Thanks, Seb, that means a lot to me." she said.

Sebastian patted her on the back. "No problem, Y/N. You're like a daughter to me, and I want to see you happy." he said, with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a surge of affection for the veteran driver. "Thanks Seb, that means a lot to me." she said, giving him a quick hug.

The other drivers, who had been listening in on the conversation, teased Sebastian. "Aw Seb, you're such a softie." Daniel teased, winking at Y/N.

Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "Just trying to help out." he said, with a shrug.

Y/N grinned at the group of drivers. "Thanks, guys, you're the best. I'll let you know how it goes." she said, feeling more confident than ever.

But as Y/N was walked away, Daniel and Pierre couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "So you finally going to make a move on Fabio?" Daniel asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/N blushed and rolled her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous." she said, trying to hide her smile.

Pierre joined in, "Yeah, and don't forget that we see you as our little sister, so we need to approve of any guy you date."

Y/N groaned, "Oh great, like I needed more pressure."

Max laughed, "Hey, we just want to make sure he's good enough for you. And if he's not, we'll beat him up for you."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Thanks, guys, but I think I can handle it." she said, shaking her head.

Carlos gave her a playful nudge, "Well, just remember that we're here for you if you need us."

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling lucky to have such supportive friends.

Y/N couldn't help but mutter to herself as she walked back to her motorhome, "Ugh, I bet the entire paddock already knows I'm interested in Fabio. Gossip travels so fast around here."

As if on cue, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see George and Lewis walking towards her. "Hey, Y/N, heard you're causing quite a stir around here." George teased, grinning.

Y/N felt her face turning red. "Oh god, please don't tell me everyone knows." she said, feeling embarrassed.

Lewis laughed, "Sorry to break it to you, but word spreads pretty quickly in the paddock."

Y/N groaned, "Great, now I'm going to be the laughing stock of the entire grid."

George put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Nah, don't worry about it. We've all been there before. In fact, I could tell you some stories about Lewis and his love life." he joked, giving Lewis a playful nudge.

Lewis rolled his eyes, "Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, Y/N, don't let it get to you. Just be confident and be yourself. And if it doesn't work out with him, there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for their support. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I'll try not to let it get to me." she said, feeling more confident already.

She was relaxing in her motorhome when her phone suddenly beeped with a notification. She quickly picked it up and saw that it was a message from Fabio.

Her heart started racing as she read the message, feeling both excited and nervous. But before she could even finish reading it, she heard Daniel's voice behind her.

"Ooh, who's that? Let me see." he said, trying to peek over her shoulder.

Y/N quickly swiped her phone away, "None of your business, Danny." she said, trying to hide her smile.

But before she could even respond to Fabio's message, another message popped up from him. "Uh oh." she thought to herself, knowing that it couldn't be good news.

Fabio: Hey again! Y/N, I heard something interesting today…

Y/N: Oh really? What's that?

Fabio: Well, Pierre mentioned that he thinks you might have a little crush on me.

Y/N: Oh no, he didn't!

Y/N: 🤦‍♀️ I can't believe he said that. I'm so sorry.

As she read the message, she felt a surge of anger and frustration. Pierre had told Fabio about her crush on him, and she was not happy about it.

"Where is that little weasel?" she muttered under her breath, storming out of her motorhome in search of Pierre.

Daniel and the other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N charged through the paddock, looking like she was ready to murder someone.

"Uh, should we be worried?" Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel shook his head, "Nah, she's just on a mission to kill Pierre. Nothing new there." he joked, grinning.

Just as they were all laughing, Pierre suddenly appeared, running in the opposite direction with Y/N hot on his heels.

"Run, Pierre, run!" Charles shouted, laughing.

As the group continued to joke and tease each other, Seb suddenly walked up, looking slightly confused.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" he asked, looking around at the group.

George grinned, "Just Y/N chasing Pierre around the paddock. You know, normal stuff." he said, chuckling.

Seb raised an eyebrow, looking slightly concerned. "Should we do something? Is everything okay?"

Mick shook his head, "Nah, they're just goofing around. Y/N's not actually going to hurt Pierre." he said, smirking.

Seb watched in amusement as they ran past, shaking his head in disbelief. "You guys are all crazy." he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Seb chuckled, watching as Y/N finally caught up to Pierre and tackled him to the ground. "You know what, I'm actually rooting for Y/N to get Pierre," he said, grinning.

The other drivers laughed, but there was a hint of agreement in their voices. Despite their teasing, they all knew that Y/N was a great catch, and Pierre would be lucky to have her.

"Alright, enough of this." Lewis said, clapping his hands. "We have a race to prepare for, remember?"

The drivers all nodded, reluctantly tearing their attention away from Y/N and Pierre's antics.

As the drivers walked towards their motorhomes, Y/N's phone started ringing. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Fábio. Her heart started racing as she debated whether or not to answer.

The other drivers noticed her hesitation and couldn't resist teasing her. "Go on, answer it!" Charles said, grinning.

Y/N shook her head, feeling flustered. "I can't, I don't know what to say!" she exclaimed.

The other drivers laughed, finding her panic amusing. "Just answer it and see what he wants." Lando said, patting her on the back.

Y/N's hands were shaking as she tried to answer the call, but just as she was about to hit the accept button, the call suddenly dropped.

"NO!" she shouted, frantically trying to call Fabio back.

The other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N paced back and forth, muttering to herself in frustration. "Why does this always happen to me?" she said, shaking her head.

Daniel grinned, "Maybe he's just not that into you." he joked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Daniel." she said, playfully punching his arm.

Y/N chuckled as she read his message, feeling her phone vibrate in her hand. She quickly typed out a response, trying not to seem too eager.

Fabio: Don't be sorry! I actually thought it was kind of cute. Is it true?

Y/N: Well, maybe a little bit...I mean, I do think you're pretty amazing.

Fabio: Well, I think you're pretty amazing too. In fact, I was planning on asking you out, but you beat me to it! I was so happy when you messaged me first.

Y/N: Really? I had no idea.

Fabio: Yeah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you out, but then you beat me to the punch. I guess great minds think alike, right? 😉

Y/N: I guess so! I was actually really nervous when I asked you out too. It's funny how even race car drivers can get butterflies in their stomachs.

Fabio: Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'm really glad you did, because I've been wanting to spend more time with you. You're always so focused on your driving that I didn't think you had time for anything else.

Y/N: Well, I do have time for you. I think you're worth making time for.

Fabio: That means a lot to me, Y/N. I feel the same way about you.

Just as she hit send, she noticed the other drivers watching her with grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes and held up her middle finger, playfully flipping them off.

"Hey, that's not very nice." Lewis teased, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Y/N just laughed and shook her head. "You guys are lucky that I love you." she said.

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reiderwriter · 7 months

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♟️ Please, Let Me Know That It's Real ♟️

Chapter 10 of That's What You Get

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Emily and Penelope take care of you after Spencer's dishonesty comes to light. They help you fill in some missing pieces of the puzzle that is your relationship.

Warnings: angst, but hopeful angst. Spencer is an idiot. No, you don't find out who the other witness is yet.

A/N: We're so close to the end 😭 I'm feeling bittersweet about this one because I'm excited to wrap it up but I also don't want to!!! It's been so fun to write. There are two chapters left after this, so please stay tuned for those ♥️ You can find my main masterlist here, and my special kinktober masterlist here if you missed the smut in this one. My requests are open until the end of the month too, so of you had any ideas, let me know!

There were no words to describe how you felt wasting away in bed that next day. You couldn't say whether a minute passed, or an hour passed or if time had simply ceased when he'd left. You just knew that there was a weight pressing down into your heart, a grief filling your lungs and stuttering your breath.

You had the vague sensation of someone entering your apartment, wrapping their arms around you and telling you that you'd be okay before you drifted off into a coma-like sleep. Instead of escaping everything, though, you had to relive it all, again and again.

You'd woken up chained to that bed again and he was there telling you how guilty and horrible he felt, and you'd practically shoved the words into his mouth. But he hadn't told you he didn't remember.

You'd woken up in his bed again, and he still wasn't there, trying to avoid you getting your memories back, the one thing you were trying to work towards together.

You'd woken up in his arms, walking you back towards his bed as you were telling him you remembered. The gleam in his eyes though wasn't excitement, happy to receive any news about what could've happened before, but fear. What did you remember, and would you figure out he'd been lying?

You'd woken up a mess, and you wanted to go right back to sleep.

When you finally did come to, the tears that had dried against your skin began to Spring again, the sobs silently wrecking your body as you disappeared under the darkness of your comforter.

Spencer had known. He'd known the entire time about everything that had happened, he'd practically told you as much from the very beginning. But he'd also let you assume that he didn't, and you weren't sure if you were angrier at him or yourself. Something happened on your wedding night, beside the intimacy, that he obviously didn't want you to remember, having gone to such great lengths to hold you at an arm's distance away whilst embracing you tightly. Parts of your body still held traces of him, and you were too emotionally exhausted to drag yourself out of bed to wash him away.

You wanted to call him. You wanted to make him come back and explain, and beg for forgiveness, or tell you it had been some kind of horrific miscommunication. You wanted to never see him again.

Penelope bought food, and Emily got you cleaned up, pulling you into the bathroom and wiping the tears from your face as she ran a bath for you, helping your shivering form into it. You hadn't called or texted either of them, but you didn't question their appearance until after you'd eaten, feeling a little less broken.

"How did you know?" The two of them looked at each other over the food on the table, unable to hide the worrying glances they were sending each other.

"Spencer. He texted me, asked me to check in on you." Penelope explained, and you're heart cracked hearing his name.

"Of course he did." You hated that even when you were supposed to hate him, he was still intent on taking care of you. You'd excused yourself from their company and climbed back into bed, grateful that neither woman had tried to stop you. They did follow you though.

"Wait, Y/N. Spencer told us you needed us, but he didn't tell us what happened. Maybe talking about it would help." They sat carefully on opposite edges of your bed, waiting for you to un-cocoon yourself and talk.

The first few attempts, you couldn't make it, too close to shattering to pieces again. With a gentle squeeze of your hand and a encouraging nod, you started telling them about the night before.

"I chased after him yesterday and I caught him in the parking lot. And he never takes his car, but he was there and I thought it was some kind of sign." You sniffled and pulled the quilt off your face some more, sitting up to continue what you knew would probably be a long story.

"We finally acknowledged everything and… God, I think I told him I love him. I do, and that's why it's all so shitty and ruined." Your throat grew thick with the pain and fluttering, memories from the night before seeping into you and grabbing a hold.

"I told him I remembered, finally. He asked me how much, and I just kept trying to flirt with him. I didn't realize anything was wrong until after we'd…" You flushed, shy all of a sudden as you felt all the shame of the previous night's interactions.

"He said some things in the heat of the moment… he said I felt better than he remembered."

"Y/N, that doesn't sound so bad, that's just-"

"He wasn't supposed to remember. Neither of us were supposed to remember, fuck I think we would've been happier if we hadn't." You shut your eyes, the lights suddenly sparking a pain behind your eyes as your tears stung.

"He didn't forget anything about Vegas. I think maybe it's my fault for assuming he did, because he just went ahead and reminded me of his stupid fucking eidetic memory."

You let your head fall back to the pillow again and curse yourself, the extended cut of the last three weeks flickering to life in your head again.

"Y/N…" Penelope started taking a gentle hand and patting your head as she struggled to find the words to comfort you.

"Y/N, this is not the end of the world." Emily was blunt in her words and for a second they snapped you out of your self imposed pity party. "I thought he'd rejected you, or served you divorce papers or something."

The anger crept up in you quickly as you shut your ears to what Emily was saying.

"God, Emily, it's not that fucking easy you know.

"How would you know? Did you try to listen to him? Ask him why he did it?" You snapped your mouth shut, still angry but momentarily softened to the words she was saying.

"Look, it's not like he confessed his love for me. He fucked me and then I caught him in a lie." You were exasperated at having to explain your emotions again and again but this time the wound had been ripped raw. He hadn't said those last words.

"Oh, sweetie. That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think he held back because he doesn't love you?" Emily's tone had softened completely and you found yourself suddenly shaking with tears, unable to answer, just nodding your head back and forth while you contained the loud echoes of pain from escaping your body.

"I need to stop starting sentences with 'don't hate me, but', but this time I think it's absolutely necessary." Penelope squeaked the other words from your other side and you drew yourself up again to hear her out.

"Penelope, you're here making sure I am still breathing while I'm in the middle of an entirely selfish crisis. I think if I even thought about you negatively, a puppy would die or something."

"Save that bravado for after this." She pulled out her phone then and scrolled through it for a second, searching for something. "Now I need you to know that I only withheld this in the hopes that I could play it at your actual wedding, where I would obviously be maid-of-honour, but as that plan has backfired I think I need to show you it now."

She handed you the phone, and you noticed a video was playing. The camera was shaky, so it took you a few minutes to figure out what it was you were looking at.

The Elvis impersonator was the thing that tipped you off to the fact that this was probably your wedding venue. Sure enough, when the camera focused, zoomed in a bit, there the two of you were.

"We're going to do the ring exchange now, if you'd like to repeat after me-" discount, slightly rotund Elvis said in a horrendous accent, but he wasn't allowed to finish.

"We can do our own vows, right? That's allowed?"

"For the amount of money you're paying me, you could consummate the marriage right here and I wouldn't give a damn." Your past self in the video had flushed at that, and you were glad that you hadn't jumped at the chance the way you had in the hotel room.

Spencer brushed it off, clearing his throat and starting again. “Y/N, I don’t remember when I started loving you, which is absolutely ironic because I remember everything else. I think I just woke up one day and knew that I’d either spend my life watching you, or take this final leap to have you. Don’t look at me like that, I’m being serious, we’re getting married.”

Your grin was wide, genuine happiness setting you alight. The two of you giggled a little bit before a glare from Elvis's direction led you to believe that his generosity only extended so far.

“Let me try again. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too good for me. And I love you so much it aches. Everytime you say anything I’m caught hanging on any word. Every time you mention a book you’ve enjoyed, I read it cover to cover 50 times that week. Every time you tell me something stupid, like what your favorite flower is, I get this overwhelming urge to… to buy myself some flowers, so that if you ever turned up at my house, they’d be there waiting for you.”

“I don’t know if you’ll remember this in the morning, or if I’ll be too scared to remind you, but I love you Y/N. And I’ll keep loving you no matter what happens.” His hands were gripped so tightly around your waist that he'd had to whisper some of the last words into the air between you, the space suddenly so narrow.

You stopped the video there, throwing the phone back at Penelope, ready to bask in your idiocy, but she didn't let you.

"You need to watch it all, come on, mother knows best." You rolled your eyes at her and sat yourself straighter again, taking the phone from her again and pressing play as Emily looked over your shoulder, watching too.

It was your turn for the vows.

“Spencer Reid. If I don’t remember how much I love you now in the morning, if I somehow manage to ignore this absolute feeling of bliss and rightness, I need you to fight for me. I need you to remind me how much I love you. I need you to remind me how we ended up here. I need you. I’ll never stop needing you.” The video had ended seconds after that, Spencer having lunged for you with both hands pulling your lips into his as he sealed the deal with a kiss. One you could swear you still felt tingling against your lips.

"I paused it there because I didn't want to see if you'd take Elvis up on his deal." You heard Penelope's words but didn't register them, not really.

"He didn't… He didn't fight for me." Your words weren't sad, but they obviously weren't the words either woman was expecting.

"Y/N, did you not hear him? He loves you!" Emily almost shook you to wake you up from whatever daze you were in, but you were throwing your sheets off in a second and scrambling out of bed.

"He didn't even tell me. Oh my god… I'm going to…" You ran a stray hand through your hair as you let out an incredulous laugh, not believing any of the last twenty four hours. Your next move was to lunge for your own phone, dialing his number before you could be stopped. Penelope did try though, before Emily out a warning hand on her shoulder, interested to see where it was you were going with this.

"Spencer," you said into the receiver when he finally picked up. A single ring and he was there like he'd been waiting for you this entire time.

"Y/N, I love you, I'm sorry." The words caught in his throat and his voice was weak but they made your heart skip a beat nonetheless. You hoped none of that reflected in your voice at all.

"Spencer, I want to see you. Now." He barely had time to agree before you were hanging up, turning around with a half manic laugh again as you begin pulling yourself together.

"Emily, Pen, thank you for everything but-"

"You don't have to explain, I think we were just leaving actually." Emily smiled up at you, confident that you knew what you were doing.

"No, no wait, please explain! I need an explanation, Y/N, what-"

"If you'll excuse us." Emily guided Penelope swiftly out of the door and you were suddenly once again alone in your apartment.

Pulling yourself together. You'd had a bath but you still felt groggy, so you hopped in the shower and thought about the time Spencer had taken a bullet for you. It had really only grazed his vest, but he'd been the one to grab you and change your positions so you were safe nonetheless. He'd done it and you'd never been sure why.

You sat and dried your hair and contemplated. He'd helped you with countless case files ove the years. The others had joked before by putting their work on his desk, knowing he'd have it completed for them, serious or not. He'd only ever voluntarily taken files from your desk though. He'd said it was because he could do them quicker, but that was always a none answer.

You picked your outfit out carefully as you thought about all the times you'd woken up with a blanket covering you after a nap on the jet. You'd seen JJ wrap them around team members before and just assumed it had been her, but now you weren't so sure.

You stood at the door looking down at a message that said he was almost here and you thought about the last few weeks. And you thought about how much he loved you, and how much you definitely loved him and you waited at the door, engagement ring sitting on your hand as you waited for him to knock.

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#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #reiderreplies #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #series: that's what you get

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)

Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!

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You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.

“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you.

“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”

“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”

“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“

“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”

“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately.

It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you.

“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”

You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.

“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”

“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.

“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.

“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment.

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.

“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you.

“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.

“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”

“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“

“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.

You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.

“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.

“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”

“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”

You stared at him, Eric groaning.

“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”

“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.

“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”

“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”

“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.”

You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.

DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)

Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)

Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone.

“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”

“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”

“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”

“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”

“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”

“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.

You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.

“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”

“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”

“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”

“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”

You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.

Dean POV

The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once.

And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.

That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.

And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.

“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”

I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.

“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.

“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.

He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.

No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time.

The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.

I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.

“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.

Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”

“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”

“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away.

“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.

“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”

I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?

I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.

Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…

I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.

She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down.

“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”

I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”

“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”

“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”

“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.

“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”

“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”

“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”

He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.

“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled.

“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.

“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.

“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey.

“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted.

“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.

“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”

“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”

“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”

Y/N POV

I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.

But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.

My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties.

I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.

Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.

My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”

Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.

DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date?

Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya).

You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)

Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat.

“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”

“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster.

“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”

“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.

“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back.

“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.

“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”

You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”

You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly.

“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”

“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”

“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon.

You met his gaze, Eric sighing.

“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.

“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.

“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”

“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him.

“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”

“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”

“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”

You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”

Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once.

“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”

“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”

“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post.

Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester

Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response.

“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #football au #au #dean winchester x #dean winchester au #spn au #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #football player!dean x reader #series #supernatural fanfic

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nomazee · 1 month

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keep my blankets warm and my name in your mouth

after a night of soaring through belobog's liquor, you finally face the consequences of it on the floor of your hotel room. thankfully, dan heng has experience with taking care of idiots (i.e. you)

dan heng x gn reader — drunkenness, sweet and sappy and sarcastic, dan heng is probably ooc, reader is trailblazer but this is set vaguely in canon & lore doesn't matter, stupid people who love each other but never say it, are they dating or are they toeing the line of cohabitation in the middle of a hotel room?

sequel here

notes: oh gawsh hey guys... yeah yeah it's been forever since i posted but i giggled at all the requests i miss and then instead of doing those i wrote this, but TRUST i am getting back to all of you in a timely manner i love you all thank you so much for sticking with me, i'm coming out with a follower event once i hit 1k (soon) so be excited! love you guys and enjoy

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng is an awful caretaker, really, and you should’ve known this because of his deadpan and often awkward nature. It just never really occurred to you until he’s truly saddled with taking care of a living, breathing thing—i.e., you, drunk and vomiting into a trash can after a spree through Belobog’s bars.

In your defense, having no memories means having no experiences to your name (other than everything you’ve been through on the Express so far, which is maybe more near-death experiences than you’d like to have), and you heard that being drunk was just something everybody experiences at least once.

Then, Pela texted you that one time asking for quick tips to sober up, and it dawned on you that you don't even know what that feels like, and then—who cares, really, you don’t have half a mind to think of your tragic pre-drunk backstory when you’re trying not to die of embarrassment as Dan Heng maneuvers you in a way that won’t get vomit on your clothes.

The cold tiles of the Goethe Hotel en suite bathroom aren’t enough to bring you to full awareness, so you let Dan Heng ragdoll you into kneeling over the trash can and pull any dangling accessories away from your, um, line of fire.

“Why would you guys let me do this?!” you wail in disbelief, trying to hold back a mouthful of bile but ultimately failing as you cough into the bin again. You’re truly betrayed at the thought that your closest friends wouldn’t warn you of things like alcohol poisoning, and pacing yourself, and how many drinks is too many drinks.

“I didn't let you do anything,” your friend retorts, because he’s evil and mean and awful at comforting you, “I told you it would be a bad idea. You’re the one that still went out.”

“Did I puke in front of everyone?”

Dan Heng pauses, which is always a bad sign. It means he’s thinking, really thinking about what to say. “At the very least, you puked in the snow and not inside the restaurant.”

A desperate wailing noise escapes you yet again. Life is cruel, and Dan Heng is crueler. He should’ve told a sweet little white lie and you would’ve been none the wiser and a lot less mortified. “Himeko laughed so hard when we found you that Welt had to make her leave.”

“Just kill me,” you whisper into the trash can, full of your hopes and dreams and the remnants of your dinner and drinks. “I can’t go back to the Express. Execute me and give me a gentle death.”

“No need to be dramatic,” he says, annunciating his words in that odd little way he does, and it makes you want to kiss him and read a dictionary to you, cover to cover. “You need to drink water, and then brush your teeth. I don’t trust you showering right now so you have to wait until the morning.”

“Oh, Dan Heng,” you keen, with the grief of a spouse watching their partner go off to war, “you don’t even want to wash my hair for me?! You just think I’m— I’m a drunken slob!”

“Be quiet,” he commands through his teeth, embarrassment warming him up—you can feel it, the way the tips of his fingers go a little bit warm from where they rest on your shoulder and the side of your face. “You— I don’t think that. You need to brush your teeth.”

You definitely are not brushing your teeth tonight. You tell Dan Heng as much but he just rolls his eyes and compromises with a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash that he pulls from the cabinet under the sink. He’s so prepared. Or maybe that’s just the hotel staff. Regardless.

You rinse your mouth out once you’re fine enough to let Dan Heng pull you up to your feet and rest you against the counter of the sink. He has to remind you multiple times to not swallow the mouthwash, and you bat at him childishly for thinking you’d ever do such a thing—except, you definitely would have drinken down an entire mouthful if he didn't say anything. You can’t bear to look at your reflection in the mirror. You just pray to whatever Aeon is listening that there’s no awful stains on your clothes, and that you don’t smell so terrible that Dan Heng goes running the minute he lets go of your arm.

“Where’s March?” you whine out as he leads you from the bathroom to the main hotel room, trying to gently set you down on your bed but giving up once you immediately fall into it like an ungraceful rock. “She would be so much nicer. You’re mean. Do I smell bad?”

“I’m not mean,” he tells you, sure of himself and the twist of his mouth as he avoids looking you right in the eyes. “You don’t smell. You need to go to bed. And lay on your side.” Petulantly, and not without some kicks of your legs and flails of your arms, you find yourself situated under the sheets of the hotel bed, sock somehow off your feet now as Dan Heng pulls the blankets right up to your shoulders.

“I’m on my side now. Do I get a reward?”

“Why would you need a reward?”

A disgruntled tsk escapes you and you look up at Dan Heng with an exasperated expression. It’s pitiful enough to guilt him into kneeling down beside your bed so that he’s at eye level with you. “Because I went through so much tonight,” you slur out, words starting to mix with each other as a result of your remaining drunkenness and the exhaustion of the night hitting you. “I’ll take a, um— a gold star, or something.”

“I can give you a cup of water in the morning.”

Another dreadful wail escapes you. You’ve never faced evil more potent than Dan Heng, and by the stupid twinge of a smile on his face, he knows what he’s doing. You hate how endearing he is, and how he dangles little treasures like this in front of you. You’re brought back to the heat of his fingers from earlier, the gentle touches he left on your shoulders as he let you puke your guts out without even flinching. As much as you joke, you know Dan Heng’s kindness comes from a lack of evil. Comes from a supporting weight against your arms, comes from travel-size mouthwash, comes from staying in your hotel room until you fall asleep and double-checking that you’re on your side.

In the morning, you’ll take the cup of water, and you’ll take him out for breakfast, too.

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#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fanfic #dan heng hsr x reader #dan heng fanfic #how do i tag guys i keep forgetting #fun fact this was supposed to be another dan heng and march fic but then i thought i was reusing tropes (i will reuse them again adn agaian #oh gawsh... i love march #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fanfic #dan heng x you #dan heng fluff #hsr fluff #me when i ramble on a google doc and then use spellcheck and then call it a day

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 4 months

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Compromise: cbf!soap x f!reader

Despite what you said you spent every moment of your free time waiting for Johnny.

It was subconscious at first. You constantly looked at your phone for any missing texts or phone calls, or a voicemail. Eventually you found yourself waiting for him to reach out.

The months went by and there was nothing.

You went to class and studied with your mind on Johnny. You had no clue how basic training worked, if he had any free time or if he decided to completely cut you off. You couldn't blame him but you never thought it that much because it made you feel awful.

Ever since he left you had felt incredibly numb. You weren't sure if that was worse than feeling miserable all the time, though you did know if you didn't keep yourself busy you'd probably either be crying too much or would just be frozen.

By the end of October you were used to it. This was going to be the way your life would be until the heartbreak wore off, until his absence was only mildly upsetting.

You sat on your bed in your dorm one evening and your phone rang.

You hesitated to pick it up for only a second before you saw that it was him, it was Johnny.

"Johnny?" You asked immediately, your vision blurring and your throat tightening.

"You picked up...!" He sounded surprised and relieved.

A few tears fell at the sound of his voice but you felt relief, happiness and sadness all at the same time.

"Yeah, um, how is it? How are you?" You asked him as you wiped away the tears.

"It's good, I'm good." He was vague but you didn't really care. "Better now that I'm talking to you."

"Me too."

You both went silent but it was comforting knowing that he was on the other end of the phone. You wondered what this meant, if maybe he was coming home.

"What's going on?" You wondered hopefully. "Are you finished...?"

"Yeah, basic training is over but I'll be going to advanced training tomorrow." He explained and you frowned.

You shouldn't have gotten so hopeful.

"Oh...how long is that going to be?" You asked and tried to hide your disappointment.

"Depends. It might be until the end of April." He said and you sighed.

That was seven months from now. And there was no telling that he'd even come home after that. He might have to go to another training he might start work.

You both we're already nineteen by now too (having missed each other's birthdays since he was gone). Would he be twenty before he came home? Would he come home at all?

"But I'll have a lot more time to call..." He trailed off and you perked up. "If that's something-"

"You had better call me when you can!" You exclaimed and he barked out a laugh.

"I will, I promise."

It was like the seeing the sun again after constant rain. You stayed on the phone with him for hours catching up with him the best either of you could. Just being able to hear him, to know that he was going to call you again was enough to have you feeling better than you had in months.

It was well into the night when you started falling asleep. You had classes in the morning and you didn’t care but the day was catching up to you.

“I should go.” Johnny said and you huffed.

“Don’t want you to.” You mumbled and he sighed.

“I’ll try to call you tomorrow.”

You hid your face in your pillow trying to your hardest to not get upset. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to possibly never hear him again.

You just wanted him with you again.

“I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too.” He said back softly.

Neither of you were willing to end the call for a couple minutes. You knew both of you needed to go to bed but you just couldn’t.

“Goodnight, bonnie.” He said and you sniffled.

“Goodnight, Johnny. I love you.”

Silence.

“I love you too.”

Johnny ended the call and you stared into your dark room for a couple minutes.

You hoped he would call again tomorrow.

A/n: see alls great! *pushes upcoming angst away* promise

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf

#cbf!soap #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mactavish

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princessmisery666 · 2 months

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Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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seungmoonandstars · 5 months

Text

𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 11k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs and feedback! (´︶`) knowing someone is enjoying my fics makes writing seungmin so much easier. technically this is the last part, but not really...

⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ｡ ⋆

→ Blind Date

→ Second Date

→ Third Date

Part 4 of 4

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

Counting the days and weeks until Seungmin comes back to you has been excruciating, sometimes anxiety inducing, and the only thing really keeping you together.

As of today it’s been 136 days since you spent the night with him. Twenty weeks, almost, since you looked at him face to face—touched him, kissed him, desperately wanted to confess how you’ve already fallen for him, and you never want to leave his side again.

But he did text you three days ago.

A part of you feels like giving up, because maybe this has gone on for far too long.

It’s nothing that Seungmin has done. He hasn’t said anything to you about things likely not working out. He talks to you in the same sweet, cheery way he always has when he actually has time to text, or call. You don’t resent him for his lack of communication, ever, because you know his lifestyle is worlds away from yours.

But the part of you that’s crazy about him sits and thinks: he can call for a five minute conversation, ask me how I am before I completely fall apart. You think…why hasn’t he messaged back? It takes a few seconds.

You hate having these thoughts. But you’re only human, and you have so much empty time to think about him.

It’s just not the same for him. It might never be the same for him.

Right now you’re staring out of your classroom window, completely lost in thought. The kids are working quietly, and it’s honestly the first time all day where you’ve been truly alone in your head.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and it makes you, and your students, jump.

“Come in…”

The door opens slowly, and the face that peeks through the door is a familiar one.

“Hey,” Choonhee waits a moment, then enters and closes the door behind her. She grabs a chair and finds a spot to sit directly in front of, across your desk.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way out, but I wanted to see you before I left. I keep missing you, and you’re not answering my messages.” The look she gives you is a little bit questioning, and a little bit irritated.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’m trying to get out of this slump.”

“Slump? The same one you’ve been in for the last…” she gestures vaguely at nothing, “month? Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you manage, but it comes out shaky. You feel your throat tighten, and the air is pushed out of your lungs. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t do this here.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry.” Choonhee starts to stand, “go pull yourself together, I’ll watch the class.”

You inhale deeply and make your way to the restroom. Luckily you have it to yourself, because when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, tears are starting to stream down your cheeks. The result of bottling up until you explode.

Talking to Choonhee about this was always an option, but you haven’t. For some reason, you didn’t want her know how deep the cut is that Seungmin has made in you.

Her blind date was probably never supposed to turn into this; something serious, something you want, maybe more than anything you’ve ever wanted. You feel stupid and childish about it, because you know who he is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it was him that initiated date number two, and three, sort of, otherwise you’ll convince yourself you somehow forced him into all of this.

It takes far too long for you to finish crying and clean yourself up, but she’s still sitting there waiting when you return.

“I’ll be over tonight, and we’re going to talk it out. Okay?” She says.

You nod, eyes still red, makeup probably giving you two black eyes.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you later. Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom.”

You watch her as she walks out, then look to your students. In a few minutes, they’ll be dismissed. And you can go home and finish the crying that you’ve started.

First, you sit and poke the screen of your phone. It’s just a text message.

No, it’s not just a text message. It’s Seungmin. Choonhee probably looked, but all she would’ve seen is the contact name for him; SM.

Weeks ago, you almost changed it to Minnie, but you didn’t. The impersonal, secretive SM remained. You unlock your phone and open it.

I hope you had a good day. You’re just leaving work, I think…if I have my time right

And just like that, he pulls you back up, and back in. He says the right thing at just the right time. Although today, he he did miss it by a few minutes.

Now you battle with whether or not you text him back immediately, or wait until you get home. Neither feels like the right thing to do. You stare down at the message until it’s time for you to dismiss your class, thinking of what to say to him.

It’s personal. He took note of the time, and remembered when it is you usually leave.

Part of you feels like crying again, but your heart is fluttering. You hate this.

———

“I got your favorite!” Choonhee starts unloading the bag of food she brought with her. “Don’t look so defeated over there.”

She let herself in while you sat folded up on the couch. You’re still looking at your phone, trying to figure out what to say to him. Should you keep it casual and tell him your day was alright? Lie?

No, you could tell him the truth; that it was a rough day, and you’ve had a lot of days like this lately because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. But you have no idea how he’d react to that. Maybe he would feel guilty about not texting more, or feel bad because he’s been too busy to see you when he is in Seoul.

Or maybe he would feel overwhelmed by it, and decide enough was enough.

Seungmin—the Seungmin you know, at least, has always come off very laidback. Open when he needed to be, but not overly so. He’s a little bit reserved, but so many moments with him have been…cute.

And Chicago. It’s been so long since Chicago—long enough that the memory is fading a little. You have to think back on it and keep yourself there, in that moment, to remember all the detail. It’s all still there, in your head.

Finally, you start to type.

“Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.”

You stare at it until Choonhee clears her throat in an attempt to get your attention.

You read it once more, then send it.

“Okay, dinner is served. Eat and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

You set your phone face down on the table and take a few bites before getting into it. Starting the conversation will be the most difficult.

So you just start.

“This is a little bit my fault, isn’t it?” Choonhee listened quietly, but you could tell she wasn’t expecting this to be about him. “I pushed this on you. I knew he spoke to you back in…June? I think it was June. But I didn’t know you saw each other again after the first date.”

“Yeah, there was a second date. And a third. And, well…ya know.”

Her eyebrows raise, “what? Fourth, fifth?”

“No, we slept together.”

She’s silent for a long moment, but her eyes remain fixed on you.

“When I went home in July. Remember?”

She’s still silent.

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Seungmin doesn’t like opening up to people. He doesn’t do that. Or he didn’t, at least. Are you sure you didn’t just…dream it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about having sex with him and then convince myself it really happened.”

Choonhee throws her hands up and waves your remark away, “okay I’m sorry, I’m just…surprised. I mean, even the multiple dates is a little surprising.”

“Then why did you even set us up?”

She shrugs, and then struggles to find the right words, “I don’t know…you were both here, and alone. I didn’t want you to spend the holiday by yourself. I thought you’d like him…I guess I was right. I’m not usually good with matches.

“So…are you saying I should just move on?”

“No, absolutely not! Text him right now, and tell him you want to see him when he gets home. He doesn’t get to fuck and run. I don’t care who he is.”

She goes quiet for a few seconds, but you can tell she’s frustrated and deep in thought. “I knew you’d like him. I’m sorry, I made this mess. If he doesn’t get himself together and talk to you like he should, I’ll go find him myself.”

———

By the time your text message gets to Seungmin, he’s home, undressed, and about to hop into a very hot shower. He smiles when he reads Minnie, because in the far too few messages exchanged, you’ve mostly called him Seungmin. His smile fades when he reads the rest.

He knows he’s been bad at this. Not just bad, actually—he’s been pathetic. He’s ghosted you, and strung you along for weeks.

No, he thinks. It’s been months of sporadic texting. Every time he was home, or close to home, he ignored you. Not maliciously, of course, and ignored is a strong word. He messaged you, but it really was the bare minimum. Especially after the last time you were together; you gave yourself to him, and Seungmin took all that he could.

Now he can’t admit to you how much it scared him.

He sets his phone down for now, and climbs into the shower—because once again, his mind, body, and everything in between is tired.

He’s so tired, he feels like he could cry. Maybe if he just let go, let himself wrap around someone and cry into their chest, he would feel better.

———

“When did he text you last?” Choonhee is cleaning up the table, throwing things into the sink, and generally doing a terrible job of tidying. But she means well, and you let her at it. “Has it been a while?”

“Three days ago, before today. He sent a message while you were in my classroom earlier.”

“Oh, is that who the buzz was? Did you answer back? Maybe you should just make him wait around.”

“I replied right before we ate, only because it took me a while to figure out what to say.”

You’re back on the couch now, phone in hand, eyes staring at the stagnant message thread. Figuring out his schedule is tough sometimes, and you try (and usually fail) to stay off of Twitter and fan sites. Right now you’re sifting through them, though—looking for anything new.

You pull up a few airport photos from earlier today. Seungmin is hidden behind a mask and a hat, but you can see his eyes. He looks tired.

It makes your heart sink. You return to your message thread again and read through the last few texts; they feel more and more impersonal as time goes on, and that makes your heart sink, too.

Maybe he is pulling away from you.

“I know saying this won’t help, but do not let this take over. Don’t let him get into your head like this.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Choonhee grabs your arm and shakes it furiously, “he’s just a guy!”

———

Seungmin is flat on his back, covers fluffed up all around him, a pillow under his head, another under his feet. No matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. He desperately wants and needs to fall asleep, but it’s alluding him. His brain won’t shut up.

The room is chilly, and that’s usually what does the trick. Cold room, warm bed, and he’s out like a light.

He picks up his phone and reads your text again.

Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.

If only he could figure out what to say back to you. There are so many things he wants to say, and so few ways he can think of to type it out.

Even if he were to see you face to face, he’d be lost for words. Seungmin is not one to let people in, but he has already let you in.

And now he’s stupidly pushing you away.

He pulls up a photo of you and stares at it. This wasn’t the way he planned on relaxing, but his hand is finding it’s way under his shirt anyway, touching his stomach, slowly moving downward until reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

Thinking of your one night together, somehow still vivid in his head after all this time, is enough to get him hard. And looking at you…he runs his hand down the length of his cock, grabs tight, and strokes himself slowly. The breath he lets out is shaky. He has to be quiet.

———

“Is he?” You look at her, only slightly defeated. “…just a guy?”

“You slept with him, you should know.”

“He’s not.”

The look she gives you is almost enough to make you rethink what you just said.

“I promise you, beneath everything, he’s like any other guy you’ve dated who got too close, freaked out, and disappeared.”

You shake your head. Then your phone buzzes in your hand, and the feeling makes your heart jump to your throat, and your stomach sink all at once. You don’t immediately move your eyes to the screen—you can’t.

“Was that him?”

Now you look. SM. You nod.

you still want to see me?

You will see him again, and you’ll tell him exactly how you feel.

“What did he say?”

You turn your phone so Choonhee can read the message. She rolls her eyes.

“He sounds like a guy. I’m sorry I got you into this…but, you are going to see him again I assume.”

“Yeah, of course.”

———

It’s not until you’re in bed, hours later, that you open his text in an attempt to answer. But it might be better to do this in the morning, because sending one and waiting for his reply is going to keep you up all night.

You stare anyway, trying to get your thoughts in order; your words, your feelings. Do you want him to know how you really feel now, or when you have him in front of you? Can you even get the right words out when he’s in front of you?

You open your notes app and begin working on a reply.

You know I want to see you, Seungmin. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but it’s so hard when you’re on my mind every day. I hope you’re getting some rest, and I hope you’re doing well. And I hope I can see you before you leave again.

You fall asleep writing. And in the morning, there he is again. One text message sent at 5am.

I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October, but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse

For a moment, you think you accidentally sent the rough draft of your text in your sleep. You didn’t. This was just him, awake before dawn, finally giving you something sincere. Now you have to rethink your reply.

The typing notification pops up while you’re reading over his message again. Still awake at 6:45.

I remember you telling me you wake up at the same time every morning... Good morning

You feel like crying again. But not like yesterday.

“Good morning” is the best you can come up with this early. He’ll have to wait.

———

Seungmin falls asleep, eventually, but not comfortably.

He gets up from bed to clean himself up, change (he’s warm now, so he opts for less clothes), and hopefully he’ll still be a little bit tired by the time he hits the bed again.

At 4:45am, his body decides he’s had enough. Now he’s awake, eyes still closed, bed far too warm. He throws off the blankets and flips onto his back.

Immediately, and not surprisingly, Seungmin’s thoughts turn to you. You’re sleeping soundly, he hopes, unlike him. He imagines you in the bed he’s never seen; curled up, tucked in. Maybe if he was there with you, he could sleep.

Every time he gets back home, he tries to push himself again, and he fails. He did it in October, and then again in September, right before his birthday. He knows he can’t keep doing this to you.

He pulls out his phone and opens your message thread.

…I hope I get to see you again soon

Seungmin stops thinking and just types:

“I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October…”

He stops and reads it. October. He was busy with the album release, but if he looks back in his messages again, he can count the number of texts he sent on one hand. You sent just as many…well, one more than him. That last message he didn’t even reply to. You must have been fed up with him and his lack of communication. And you had every right to be.

“…but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.”

This part is true. Seungmin is almost freezing again right now.

“I don’t know how to explain…”

Now he thinks.

“…how all of this is making me feel. Maybe I’m…”

Seungmin backspaces the last sentence before he even finishes it. And then he hits send.

At 6:45, he’s still wide awake. He remembers you telling him your alarm is always set for this time, so he sends one more message.

And you reply. He was right, you were awake. Just a good morning, though. He’s sure it’s far too early for you to deal with his wishy-washy bullshit.

———

When he doesn’t text again by lunch time, you decide he’s waited long enough. And you can’t waste time, really. He might not be in town for long.

“I want to see you, and I will see you. Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. But I need it to be soon. Neither of us are allowed to be nervous anymore.”

It’s better, you decide, than whatever you wrote last night.

He’s silent as you drift through the rest of the school day (you assume he’s having trouble thinking of a reply to that), and right as the class is gathering their things and leaving, another teacher sneaks in and approaches you. Then you realize it’s not a teacher, but you recognize her. She’s a secretary you’ve spoken to a few times before.

She nods to you and smiles. “I know you’re on your way out, but there’s a visitor for you, a parent who insisted I bring them right to you. It seemed important.”

You have very specific times for parent/teacher visits, and this is not one of them. And there is nobody else who would visit you. You’re confused. “Okay, send them in…I guess.”

You look down at your phone—you doubt it, but maybe you missed a text message or a call. No, nothing.

“Hello.”

The way his voice floats over to you almost knocks you out, and when you turn to meet his eyes, your throat refuses to let you release the air in your lungs.

“Your last text was very insistent. I know this probably is not the best approach…but I haven’t been doing a very good job of anything lately.”

Still you just stare at him, lost for words. You look around your classroom, then down at yourself. This is not how you wanted to see him again, but do you have any room to complain?

He takes a few steps toward you, “was this a bad idea?”

You manage to shake your head and swallow. And then you realize your legs still work, with some effort. Two steps later, your arms wrap around his waist, your face disappears in his sweatshirt, and you squeeze.

His tiny, relieved laugh is music to your ears, and then his hands slide across your back until he’s fully embraced you.

You keep him there for a long time, and he doesn’t protest or try to pull you away. When he does speak again, it’s a question.

“How was your day?”

You slowly release him, but making eye contact is a bit of a challenge. “It’s better now.” So you fall apart when he does show up; no strong words, no looks of disbelief at his absence. You knew this would happen.

“Where can I take you? Home? Or…anywhere you want.”

“Home is good.”

“Okay, there’s a ride waiting for us.” He moves his hands up and over your shoulders, and he rests them on either side of your neck. “I understand if you’re angry with me, and if you stay that way.”

“I am. I don’t want to be.”

Seungmin leans closer, and he moves painfully slow, but eventually he makes it to your mouth. His kiss is light and short, but he keeps going back to peck at your lips, over and over, until you open up and hold him there.

Finally, clear memories of Chicago fill you up. His scent and his touch pull you right back, and you hope he remembers it like you do.

———

It feels like your first date. A quiet car ride, a slow ride up the elevator, an awkward, unsure walk down the hallway to your apartment door. Then walking into your messy living room.

“Are you hungry? I can order something for us,” he says as he’s carefully removing his shoes. “And we can talk while we wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll make some coffee.”

Seungmin doesn’t follow you to the kitchen, like he’s done a few times before. Instead, he sits on the couch, situating himself so he can still see you.

You try not to look at him as you work, but you fail, several times. He smiles every time your eyes meet, but it’s a sad smile. It’s not one you’re used to seeing.

“No small talk,” you tell him as you hand him his coffee. “I’ll lose my mind.”

“No small talk.” He nods.

“Where have you been?” You start, staring down at your mug. “Not physically, I know that already. I mean…in every other way.”

“Uhm—“ Seungmin thinks. His face twists a little, probably in confusion. “Where have I…”

“Mentally,” you can’t take your eyes off of him now. “Emotionally.”

“Oh, okay I understand.” He clears his throat, adjusts himself. “It’s been hard to keep my thoughts organized lately. It’s not just that I’ve been busy with work…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I could’ve fixed it, I’m sure. If I would’ve just talked about things with you a while ago, I probably would have slept easier.”

“I kept you up?”

“Yes. Well, thinking about you. I do think about you, all the time, even if I haven’t kept in touch. But I’ve been over complicating things, I think.”

“Talk to me now. Please.”

You think you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes are wide and shiny, but he’s unsure.

“I know, Seungmin…it is hard. It’s been hard for me, and I feel like it’s been a little more difficult for you. I kept everything to myself all this time, up until yesterday.”

He gives you another questioning look.

“Choonhee forced it out of me.”

He nods, sets his coffee down, and swings his legs up on the couch. Something about him making himself more comfortable puts you at ease. You remember him mentioning before that he felt relaxed being here, alone with you. "I don’t feel any pressure here." You hope he still feels that way.

“Tell me what you told her.”

“She did most of the talking.”

“Then what did Choonhee tell you?”

“That you’re just a guy, and I shouldn’t let you get to me like this.”

Seungmin actually nods at that—but he’s not looking you in the eyes now, so maybe he’s just…thinking about it. Or maybe he’s agreeing. You don’t know where this is going yet.

“I am just a guy, she’s right. I don’t want to be just a guy, though. Not to you.”

“Oh…”

“I thought I knew what was going on when we were together in Chicago, and I thought I knew what I wanted. I’ve been thinking all this time that if this couldn’t be a normal, traditional relationship, you would not be happy, not satisfied. And you’d tell me you weren’t interested in me anymore. I thought you would tell me you couldn’t do it.”

You almost interject; tell him that’s never what you expected of him. You wouldn’t never do that. Why didn’t you say that before? Instead, you used the hypothetical “if you weren’t who you are” question on him. You remain quiet, though, hoping he continues.

“…what I’ve been doing isn’t much better than what I’ve been afraid of. But you’re very smart, and I always knew that.”

You just smile at him, waiting for more.

“That’s why you were so worried when you found out who I was. You know this is much more complicated than that.”

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

He’s biting his lip. Tapping his foot. It’s almost touching you, and you want to stretch your leg out until it does, but right as you tell your brain to do it, his leg slides back. He sits up and leans forward, falls to his knees, and crawls across the couch.

Before you can squeak his name out, he’s straddling you, arms on either side of your waist. And then the full weight of his body is on you. Seungmin sets his head down gently against your chest and relaxes.

You freeze for a few seconds. You have fallen asleep on this couch with him before, but this feels like much more.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you set your hand on his head—rake your fingers through his hair, wrap your other arm around his shoulders. He sighs, though.

When it feels like you’re drifting off to sleep, he finally speaks. It’s muffled against your shirt.

“You just want me, right?”

“What?”

“Even if nobody is allowed to know. And we can’t go out in public, and I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Seungmin, I know that we can’t have a normal relationship. I just want you…and to know that you want me.” You say the last part under your breath.

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be better. And that I won’t be afraid to talk to you, and tell you too much.”

“You can tell me whatever you need to.”

“I don’t usually talk much…to anyone.”

It never occurred to you that he didn’t have someone to talk to when he was feeling down, or having a bad day. A bad week. He’s been bottling everything up, just like you have. Maybe for a very long time.

“You can talk to me about your bad days, Minnie, or when you can’t sleep. And about your good days. I would like to be that person.”

“Am I the reason you had a rough day yesterday? Have you had a lot of those?”

“Yeah, I have had a lot of bad days because I missed you.”

“You can tell me about your bad days, too. Even if they were bad because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Seungmin laughs, and it shakes your whole body. “Good.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning is almost normal. Your alarm goes off at its regular time—6:45, and you’re tired, which is also normal. The room is chilly, and it’s so warm under the blankets that getting up is nearly impossible. An ordinary morning. The one thing that makes it different is that Seungmin is there when you open your eyes.

The alarm doesn’t even make him stir, but when you finally turn it off, he groans.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work?” He asks, eyes closed, voice raspy with sleep.

“No, not today. I found someone to cover for me.”

He smiles and reaches his arm toward you, and he feels blindly around where he thinks you might be. “Why are you so far away?”

You move closer and grab his arm, “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

…

Sleep eventually finds both of you again. When you wake back up a few hours later, he’s still there, breathing deeply, melting into your bed. You need to get up, but you wait a little longer. You really don’t want to wake him right now.

When he eventually wakes up on his own, he’ll feel better.

You close your eyes. And again, you fall asleep.

…

Something warm against your forehead wakes you up for a third time. Your eyes open and all you see is skin; Seungmin’s neck, his shoulder. The collar of his shirt is loose enough that you can see the start of his chest.

You pull him closer and push your face into him. He smells good. He smells like sleep and sweat and whatever leftover cologne is still stuck to him from yesterday.

Part of you still wants to keep your guard up. He’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll have to wait and see if his confidence and trust in you remains, and if he’ll really feel comfortable telling you the things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

“I can start,” you say, face still in his chest. You move up toward his neck and set your lips against his skin.

“Start what?”

“After we were together last, in Chicago, and we didn’t…use a condom. I did get a morning after pill, and I took it.”

He pulls you away so he can look at you.

“My period came really late after that, so I thought it didn’t work. And I was really scared. But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you because we hadn’t talked very much that week, and you didn’t need that on your mind anyway.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone.”

“Everything turned out okay.”

“You can talk to me any time you need to, even if I’ve been quiet.”

You nod, and you really want to believe him.

“Too soon for babies.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He has a little smirk on his face, but he’s avoiding eye contact and staring at the little bit of space between you.

“You want them?”

“Hm?” Now he makes eye contact, and his ears are slowly turning red. “Uhm…yes, I always have. Do you?”

Having kids isn’t something you’ve thought about much (aside from the scare you had in July), because you haven’t met anyone you would want to have kids with. Well, until now, because looking at Seungmin and the sweet smile on his face is making you want them immediately. But you know that’s not possible for him.

“With the right person, yeah.”

“I’m sure someday I’ll be able to do that. Have the time to be there, for both of them. You and baby. I couldn’t be gone all the time and leave you alone.”

He stops for a second. You wonder if he’s even hearing himself speak.

“…Seungmin?”

“It was my turn to tell you something personal.” He brings his hands up to his face and rubs his cheeks, then his eyes. “Just in case I’m the right person.”

The conversation feels like too much, too soon. But you like it. He’s only been open with you like this once before: on your second date, when he admitted to being worried you’d like his friends more than him. You thought that was silly then, and now…you’re not sure you could like anyone more than Seungmin.

“…and if I’m your right person.”

Seungmin smiles and hides his face in the pillow.

———

As the day goes on, you wonder how long he’ll be here with you. Every time he looks at a message on his phone, you assume that will be his cue to get going—to start saying goodbye. But he’s still here, and he seems content.

It was his idea to stay, and he insisted on making breakfast.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” is what he asked as you sat and ate.

So it’s been a regular day off, aside from the fact that Seungmin is also here with you…eating, cleaning, sorting laundry, watching tv, and eventually, catching up with schoolwork.

He sits down next to you on the couch when you open your binder and pull out a stack of papers. He watches quietly as you shuffle though them, putting the pages in order before you start to look them over properly.

He picks the next one up before you get to it. “How old are your students again?”

“They are eight…a few are nine.”

“I don’t remember my English classes being this complicated when I was…older than them.”

“You should see their math homework.”

“Oh, I was very good at math!”

“Yeah?” You look at him, give him your full attention. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Not even what’s on the internet?” Seungmin leans back against the couch, and pulls you with him.

“I’ve read a few things. But I’m sure you’re a lot more complicated than your fun facts.”

“I hope so.” He grabs you around the waist, “what were you good at in school?”

“English…” you laugh. “And I did pretty good in my German class, and history.”

“Do you speak German, too?” He’s holding you tight, head resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’ve forgotten almost all of that.”

“Why did you come here, to Korea?

You turn yourself to look at him, disturbing his resting head. But he keeps his arms around you.

“So close to Samseong-Dong?”

“I felt like I needed to start over after I graduated college, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. I actually almost went to Japan.”

“Why didn’t you? Where did you go to college?”

“Northwestern University. And I missed a deadline. Luckily, I already had applications submitted to a few different programs here and nearby.”

“And you chose here?”

Seungmin’s hands wander throughout the entire conversation, stopping when they reach just below where the hem of your shirt hits.

“They chose me.”

“That’s very lucky.” They slide underneath and up your back, “maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

“I’m not sure I believe in things like that.” You move yourself closer to him, until your face is inches from his.

“I don’t either, really. Fate, and soulmates. I’ve been called a…uhm, I don’t remember the English word. A negative person.”

“A pessimist?”

“Yes. Maybe sometimes I am, but…not always. I can be positive. I just like to be realistic.”

“A pragmatist.” You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm, both of those P words. I did get lucky, though.” He pushes forward, gently coaxing you to your back.

“Was it there before?” You ask. He’s hanging over you, studying your face. “Before Chicago, after I asked if you would date me?“

“Was what there? You mean, did I like you?”

“Yes, but…more than that. Or was it spending the night together?”

“It was before that. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with you.”

You nod, trying hard not to beam up at him. But his hands are on your sides, and his fingertips are moving so delicately over you, you can’t help but smile.

“When was it there for you?”

Your heart starts beating a little faster. You have no answer ready for him except the truth.

“When you gave me Pochacco.”

“On our first date? At the coffee shop?”

You throw your hands over your face and nod, “yeah, at the coffee shop.”

“I felt kind of silly giving him to you, I thought you would think it was silly, too.” He pulls your hands away so he can see your face again.

“It wasn’t.”

“So PuppyM wasn’t silly either?”

“No, I love him. And your denim jacket you left, that’s hanging on my bedpost. I love all of your gifts.”

“Oh, I forgot about that jacket!”Seungmin comes down and settles himself against you, face in your neck, hands wondering more.

“You can have it back, if you want.”

“No, you keep it. But I do need something of yours to keep with me.” His hands slide under your shirt and across your stomach. He tickles your side again, then stops when he reaches your hip.

You’re surprised at his restraint.

“I’m sure I have something for you.” You set your hand over his and slide it up his arm. Then back down.

His fingers twitch and push under your shorts. As ready as you were, and as much as you wanted him to make that move, your breath still catches in your throat.

He props himself up with his other arm and looks at you. His fingers touch lightly over your underwear, taking his time, getting himself where he needs to be.

But you’re not taking your time. And it’s Seungmin touching you, so your body is already on fire. You push your hips up and push his hand harder against you.

His fingers slide up and sneak beneath the fabric. He moves slowly, and he’s watching you carefully, as if you might protest.

But of course you don’t. You grip his arm and slide your hand from his bicep down to his wrist, moving with him as his fingers slip inside of you.

“Am I doing okay?” He leans closer and whispers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out and sliding back over your clit, making you choke on your answer.

You manage a shaky mhm and Seungmin giggles into your ear. His fingers stay put, making soft circles around you, keeping his touch as delicate as possible. Then he takes them off again, and he pushes back inside.

The reach of is fingers is enough to hit just the right spot, and when you jump from the pressure, he does it again and again until he gets a moan out of you.

You lift your hips into his touch and pull him down for a kiss. Your grip on his arm tightens and he eases up, but barely. His mouth is working its way across your neck now, leaving you free to moan.

“Do you do this a lot?” He says as he nibbles across your ear and cheek. When he gets to your lips, he hangs above you and holds your gaze. His thumb slides over your clit again, like he wanted to remind you of what he was talking about.

“Uhh…hmm?” You slide your hand up and grab a handful of his hair. “Yes.” You laugh and knead your fingertips into his scalp—it makes his eyes roll back. He’s in your neck again, savoring his little massage.

“Do you think about me when you do it?”

His question sends another wave of pleasure through you. His fingers slip inside again, pressing hard. His thumb is on your clit, wet and sliding easily and hitting everywhere you need it to.

There’s hot, heavy breathing in your ear, and a sweet whisper, “do you think about me, hm?”

“Every time,” your climax hits fast, and Seungmin knows he’s succeeded by the way you’re pulling at his hair.

He holds himself up just enough to watch you squirm beneath him. His touch softens even more as you start to relax, and when you stop and stare up at him, he comes down and kisses across your forehead and down the side of your face. He lets you catch your breath before moving to your lips.

“Really?” Seungmin blushes and tries to stifle his laugh in your neck.

You nod slowly, “that was…very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Too good, maybe.”

“I did some research.”

“You did not.” But when you think about it for a second, it does seem like something Seungmin would do. “Did you?”

“Just a little. In case I’d get to try it out on you someday.”

———

Seungmin looks carefully across your desk, touching the books stacked there, the loose sheets of composition paper, the notes and pencils. He sits in your chair and opens the drawer—inside are a few notebooks, all used and full. He shuffles things around a little, searching every inch.

Now he gets up and moves to your bookshelf. It’s more of a trinket shelf, though. Seungmin only runs his eyes over this, until he catches sight of a snow globe. He picks that up and shakes it. Inside is the Chicago skyline.

He stares at it for a long moment, then returns it to his spot. His attention turns to you, on the bed.

You just smile at him. He keeps looking around.

The next stop is your bedside table. You sit up when he sits down on the edge of the bed, run your hand down his back. As soon as he opens it, he whispers an ooh, and reaches inside.

“What did you find?�� You laugh.

“Me,” he holds up three photocards with his face on them.

You take them from him and fall back on the bed, “you”, and look deeply at paper Seungmin.

“Hey, I’m right here…” he pushes your hand away and bends down to kiss you. “Real me.”

The next thing pulled from the drawer is a journal. He looks it over, but doesn’t open it.

“That’s you, too.”

Seungmin points to it, and his head tilts, “this is me?”

“Yeah, almost every page.”

His face goes from confusion to understanding, and then it falls a little.

“You should add one more page.”

“I will.”

The journal goes back in, and then his fingers close around something small. When he pulls it out, it catches the light and throws a reflection across the room.

“Oh, I haven’t worn this since last time.” You sit up and Seungmin hands you the bracelet. It’s only a tiny gold chain, but at the very end of it is a star charm.

“This.” He says, and he watches as you unclasp it, wrap it around his wrist, and close it again.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

An hour after Seungmin left your house the last time, he sent you a text that just said “I’m home”. That was a first, and it felt like a good omen. But only time would tell. He never really had a good start with keeping in touch.

But he also said goodnight. And then he said good morning. And sometimes he called just to tell you instead of texting.

Actually, this morning, almost two months later, he called early in the morning, when you were still asleep. You caught his name on the lock screen before you picked up, but you still lacked the energy for anything more than a groggy morning Min.

Luckily, he can make up in enthusiasm what you lack some days.

“I’m sorry, you’re still asleep,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being lazy. What are you up to this morning?” You also caught sight of the time before answering: 10am, way too late for you to sleep in.

“Catching a flight home, from Thailand. Waiting around.” Now you can hear the sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Oh right. I forgot you were there…I did see some photos. You looked very handsome in your safety glasses.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I was calling to…uhm, say good morning, and also to see if you would be home tonight.”

“Minnie, I’m always home.”

“That’s true, but it would still be rude to just show up unannounced.”

“I give you permission to show up unannounced.”

“Can I have a key, too? Oh, that reminds me…uuh, well, actually I’ll just talk to you about it later.”

“Okay, don’t forget. And yes you can have a key.”

———

This is the first time you’re not nervous about Seungmin coming over. Well, not as nervous as you typically would be. You’re still a little on edge—a little worried about how you look and about how your food is going to taste.

He didn’t mention anything about coming over hungry, but you’re taking the initiative anyway. If anything, he’ll have something to take home with him.

A soft knock at the door. You know his soft, steady knock, and you never have any other visitors, so it’s him. But for some reason you stand there stupidly, not moving, not saying anything, because you know it’s really him on the other side of your door.

Finally, after a few seconds, you take a breath. “It’s open.”

The door swings open.

“Hi,” Seungmin closes it quietly, takes off his shoes and looks at you from across the room. “It smells very good in here.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten so…”

“No, nothing since lunch.” He takes a few long strides toward you. Big blue sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a big smile. “So I’m very hungry,” he embraces you and squeezes you tight against his chest. “How have you been?” He relaxes, but he doesn’t let you free.

“I’ve been okay...I’ve been good.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit around Christmas—oh!” He bends down and kisses you.

He kisses for a long time—long enough that you think you might end up in bed before you even eat dinner. But he slows down, and then releases you.

“Happy new year! A little late.” He comes down again for one more kiss, and then makes his way to the kitchen. “What did you make? Something American? It smells like something American.”

“Yes. It’s very American.”

“Should we eat first, or talk?”

“I’m sure we can manage both.”

———

The two of you stare at each other from across your tiny kitchen table. Seungmin sips his tea. You just watch and wait, because this is his conversation.

“Do you want me to start? Something about you having a key to my apartment?”

“Ah, yeah. Yes, I should have a key, but I was thinking of a different apartment.”

“Oh, like yours? No, you don’t have an apartment. Or do you?” You lean a little closer, “secret apartment?”

“No, no secret apartment,” he laughs. “But I thought it would be nice if you lived closer. Closer to the city, and closer to me.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not sure something closer is in my budget.”

“I know,” Seungmin smiles—there’s always something so clever and knowing about his smile. “I figured you might say that. I could help.”

“You want to help me with rent? Expensive rent. That’s kind of serious.”

“I do! It is serious. I am serious.”

“You are?” You sit back in your chair and study his face. He’s still smiling and nodding at you.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for…almost two months. And I found somewhere I think would fit very well.”

“Closer to you?”

“Much closer. I could walk to you.”

You’re thinking, but you’re not really thinking. The obvious answer to this is yes, even though it’s hard to just come out and say it. The idea of someone else helping with rent, or helping with anything, is foreign to you. “I would like to be closer to you.”

Seungmin looks at his phone, pulls something up on it, and then slides it to you across the table. “How is something like this?”

You trust Seungmin’s taste and judgement, but you still want to look it over thoroughly. Distance, yes, but also the size, the layout. And you do not have enough windows in this apartment. You’d like more windows. If he’s as serious as he looks, it might as well be worth whatever money you’re both going to put into it.

“How about this one?” You pull up a different listing.

He looks it over, “still very close. Oh, two bedrooms. Maybe the extra space would be nice.”

“It is a little more, sorry (Seungmin shakes his head when you say that), but it has a bathtub instead of just a walk-in shower. And it’s own laundry.”

He laughs, “I could do my laundry faster if I bring it with me. And the kitchen is nicer.”

“I miss having a bathtub.” You hand him his phone back. “But are you sure this isn’t too much? I know you said you were serious—“

“I am…I want you to know that I’m very serious. I think this is a good way to show you. And it’s also very practical.”

“You seemed so unsure before. I just want you to be…good. I want both of us to be good.”

“I’m very good.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it? All of this.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll call about it tomorrow.”

“No, I can. Let me do that, at least.”

———

“Minnie?”

Mmhm?

You sat on the couch after dinner, and it didn’t take much time before he had you on your back. He lifts your shirt as far as this position will allow, letting his fingers dance over you—making you squirm a little from how soft his touch is.

Forming the words you want to say is much harder than you thought. They’re dancing around in your head; you’re moving them back and forth, but every way it comes together feels like too much or not enough. Maybe right now just isn’t he time.

“What’s wrong?”

You pull your shorts down, open your legs for him, then shake your head. “Nothing.”

Seungmin reaches down and feels you, slips his fingers inside, then slowly pulls them back out. He smiles against your mouth and pushes in again, just to feel how wet you are. “Are we okay here…are you comfortable?” He asks sweetly. His fingers are still inside, moving delicately.

You nod, but suddenly you remember that you are not good, and you’re not ready. “Shit, no we’re not good. We need a condom this time.”

“Oh right, we should be safe. Tell me where they are,” he adjusts his sweatpants and very carefully lifts himself off of you.”

“In my black bag, under my bed.”

You listen as he slides it out and digs around. The contents of that bag are a mystery, but the condoms you bought back in Chicago, both boxes, have to be in there still. You’re not that bad at unpacking, but if it’s something you don’t use, you’re definitely going to forget I’m about it under there forever.

When he comes back in, he has one in each hand.

“I’m….not sure which one is for me.” His voice seems a little dejected. He’s looking down at them as he approaches you.

“Oh Minnie, they were both for you. I bought these a while ago, when I didn’t know which would fit you better.”

“Oh,” he finally makes eyes contact again. His face softens a little. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, come here.” You spread your legs again and wait for him, “I’ll put it on for you.”

He crawls back onto the couch, settles between your legs, and opens both hands, palms up, in front of you.

You take the right one and rip it open. Seungmin looks like his mind is suddenly full. His eyes are big and soft.

“Min, what’s on your mind?”

His hands are already on his sweatpants, pulling them down his hips.

“You are.”

You touch him, slide your fingertips down, and then back up. The condom goes on easily. “Does it feel okay?”

He nods and adjusts, makes himself comfortable, and lifts your legs until he has more room. He pushes in a halfway, then leans over until you’re almost nose to nose.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?” He sets his forehead against yours.

“There’s only you.”

“Just me?” He pushes his nose into yours, “only me?” Pecks at your lips.

“Just us.”

“Only us.” Seungmin pushes the rest of the way in, waits a moment, then begins to fuck you slowly and deeply, “you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear as he drags his lips over it.

It takes you a second to pull yourself together. Each thrust sends you upward and knocks the breath out of you, but you manage a nod.

“Tell me,” he quickens his pace. The couch shakes the end table, and you can hear the clatter of things falling to the floor. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It comes out shaky, and it’s not good enough for you. But Seungmin is still smiling. You try again

“I’m yours,” you grab the back of his neck and hold him still, “I only love you.” Your hand grabs hair and pulls—lips close on his before he has a chance to speak.

But he sighs into the kiss. He slows down, and it feels like he’s melting into you more and more with each thrust. What little skin is exposed between the two of you slides together, damp with sweat, and Seungmin kisses every part of you he can get to in the position he’s in.

He tries to get rid of your shirt, but he can’t stop, and he has to stop to make any progress—so you clumsily lift it, and your bra, until you’re free.

His hand slides up your ribs and his fingers graze over you, but for now he just watches how he’s making your body move under him. He seems hypnotized, but eventually he blinks, and then his eyes are fixed on yours again.

The room is quiet—no ambient noise from the tv, no music, nothing. The only sounds are the heavy breaths and soft moans you’re sharing. The condom is slowing him down, keeping him here much longer, and everything feels good in this position; good enough that you’d be satisfied staying like this as long he needs it.

He made you come last time, and now you want to do the same for him.

You lift him off of you until you can see him better.

He looks you in the eyes again, satisfied and smiling. “You feel so good,” he’s back down again, mouth on your chest, kissing down until he can close his lips around your nipple. He licks and works his way back up, stopping at your throat and staying there, his warm breath hitting you. “You love me?”

Your heart jumps. It was already racing, but now you feel it everywhere. In your throat, your chest, your head. You don’t think you’ve ever told anyone that before; not so soon. It’s been a year, but tonight is only the sixth time you’ve seen him and touched him. Everything else has been texts, phone calls, video calls.

It doesn’t matter. You said it because it felt right, and it still feels right.

“Yes.”

Seungmin slows his pace. His exhales turns into a string of soft, dulcet moans. He lifts himself upright and holds your hips as he rolls into you. He comes quietly. You wouldn’t have even realized if you weren’t looking right him.

The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach swirl. You watch Seungmin smile before your eyes close, and you can hear him whisper something to you while you’re coming down from your own high.

He pulls out and carefully brings your legs together.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, love.” He sits you up next to him and pulls your t-shirt over your head, “I was just…” he pulls you close, “nothing, it’s not important right now.”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

———

It’s been a long six weeks. You’re a little stressed out, but you’ve been holding yourself together very well, you think.

This apartment has been your only home for more than three years, so packing your things up and preparing to leave has been a little bit emotional. Almost everything is out of here and all that’s left are a few things you’re taking along on the last car ride.

Before this, everything was moving in slow motion and it was killing you. Now, it won’t slow down. You’re happy, and you’re grateful for everything that Seungmin has done for you…and it’s still sometimes hard to believe he’s doing it all just for you. But it’s so much all at once.

He told you he would stay tonight—your first night there. You haven’t received a text telling you otherwise, so you’re hoping he will be there when you arrive. You do have to remember that you’ll be there alone most of the time, though.

Some things will remain the same.

———

The elevator ride up is long, and you think back to you and Seungmin—your first date, bringing him home with you to your 5th floor apartment, thirty minutes out of the way, just to have him to yourself.

That was probably a good indication that he liked you. You just didn't realize it at the time.

You finally stop at the 17th floor.

The original apartment you looked at was unavailable when you called the next morning, so Seungmin insisted on taking everything into his own hands while you were at work. He knew what you were looking for, but he went overboard.

This apartment has the windows, the bathtub, and laundry room, but it also has double the space—and three bedrooms. When you asked what you were supposed to do with all of the extra room, Seungmin shrugged and said we’ll figure something out.

You don’t even own enough to fill up half of it. Everything that required any sort of muscle; the bed, the living room furniture, it all stayed behind. Most of the things in this apartment are new, or they will be new.

Before you have a chance to explore any further than the kitchen, you hear a very faint, soft knock on the door. You know it’s him and you run to open it, but he punches in a code on the doorknob, turns it, and peeks in before you get there.

“I tried to beat you here.” He smiles.

“You almost did.“

He closes the space between you and pulls you into a hug. “How was your day? Did the movers get everything here?”

“It was alright, and…I think so, but I haven’t gotten any further than this.”

“Just alright? I know it’s been a lot lately.”

“I’m better now that I’m here, and you’re here.” You take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, “let me see, smile.”

Seungmin smiles widely and dramatically, and then bends down to kiss you. “How do I look?”

You pull him back for another one, “still handsome.”

He picks up the bags he walked in with and sets them on the kitchen chair. “I brought us dinner, and a few things to make you feel more at home.” Seungmin is pulling the food out of the bag, piece by piece. “So you didn’t see the bedroom yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

He shakes his head and smiles, “we’ll see it later.”

“What did you bring me?”

“Oh, let’s see!” He starts digging in the other bag.

You watch as he carefully places an assortment of things along side the food. There’s a candle, two candles, a small picture frame, but you can’t see the photo from where you’re standing. A stuffed dog. Another stuffed dog. One of them is Pochacco, the other is a mystery, but he does look familiar.

“That’s all for now but I do have more stuff to bring.”

“Well, we have plenty of space to fill.”

He beams at you, grabs one of the stuffed dogs, and pulls you against him. “This wasn’t mine, but I have one just like it.”

“I like him, he looks like you.”

Seungmin laughs and looks at Daengmo, “yes, he kind of does.”

———

When the sun goes down, and you’re both full and relaxing, you begin to feel even more nostalgic for the conversations you had and the memories you made with him at your old place, on your old couch. You have to work on new memories now.

He’s facing you on the new couch, eyes closed, slow, steady breaths. The flicker of the tv is hitting his face, making his cheek and the soft brown of his hair glow.

Very slowly, you reach your foot out and touch his.

Seungmin’s eyes open, and he gives you a sleepy smile, “how was dinner?”

“Good.” You sit up and move closer to him, “we should go to bed while you’re still sleepy.”

He groans and shrugs his shoulders.

“We gotta go see the bedroom, remember?” You grab his hand and pull a little, and he immediately gives in.

The bedroom is warm and cozy, like it’s already been lived in. You know Seungmin came in at some point and made it this way; the curtains are pulled, the soft amber lights are clicked on, and one of the candles he brought is lit on the bedside table. Both of the stuffed dogs he brought, and your PuppyM, are already laying on top of the pillows.

The bed is made, but not too made. The blankets are loose and fluffed up, ready to crawl into.

“How does it look?” He sounds a little more awake now.

“It looks perfect, come on.”

He shakes his head, “If we don’t brush our teeth now, we will never get back up to do it.” He smiles and kisses you softly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

———

The lights are off, the candle is out. Seungmin is facing you in bed.

“Are you awake? Did you lose your sleepy?”

“A little.”

He scoots closer until his arm can drape over you. The bedroom is bigger, and the bed is bigger, too. You’re sharing one side just to be close to each other.

“It will come back soon.”

You set your forehead against his chest and feel it move steadily with each breath. It's quiet for a long time, and now sleep is really escaping you. You should be able to relax like this; you’ve shared a bed with him a few times before, and you haven’t slept as well since. And you’re tired—too tired. Maybe too exhausted for sleep.

You wonder if he’s awake, or if he’s quiet because he thinks you’ve finally drifted off.

You run your hand gently over his arm, waiting for a reaction. At first, he doesn’t make a move or a sound, but when you slide your hand back up, he moves his leg against yours.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispers

“Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Then no, I can’t sleep.” You prop yourself up on one arm and look down at him. It’s dark, but you can just make out the details of his face.

He flips onto his back and pulls the covers away. “Are you uncomfortable?” Seungmin asks and places his hand on your cheek. He’s warm, his eyes are warm. His mouth parts slowly and turns into a smile. It’s a tired smile. “New bed.”

“New everything.”

“Except for me.”

Your hand closes around his, then you turn your head to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “Thank you for being here. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

Seungmin pulls you down on top of him. His face is in your neck, kissing playfully and lazily, but the way his hands are exploring you is anything but lazy.

“You’re cold,” he stops, wraps his arms around your waist, and holds you there. “You need to be warmed up.”

You get your hands underneath his shirt, “you’re warm enough for both of us.”

“I can share.”

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Yes, I would love that,” he laughs softly and disappears in your neck again.

The stupid question bounces around in your head. His warm lips on you are starting to make your head fuzzy, and you wonder if you should just forget it. But now he’ll get it out of you somehow.

“Will you sing for me?”

He pulls back to look at you. Seungmin’s face lights up. It could light up the entire room. “You want me to sing for you?” If he was sleepy at all before, he’s not now. You’ve managed to wake him the rest of the way with a simple, stupid, request. But it wasn’t stupid at all.

“I always have, it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Right now? Should I sing now? Maybe it’s too quiet, and the walls might not be very thick.”

“In the morning?”

He nods, “yes, I’ll sing for you in the morning. What should I sing?”

“Surprise me.”

“We talked about singing together before, remember?”

“I remember,” you wrap around him and pull the covers back up in an attempt to get him sleepy again. “But I’d rather just hear you.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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