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gyuswhore · 6 months

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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut tags in part 2

(Comments from @toruro): "oh shizzle", "yeah bitch", (on jihyo) "mother", "ME X HAO FIRE EMOJI", "men (derogatory)"

[A/N]: Tumblr is annoying and won't let me post the entire 40k in one go so i have to break it up (part 2 is out tomorrow!!!) i hope you guys enjoy this, thank you for all the love on the teaser, i hope this is able to live up to the hype, thank you so much for being patient with me <33 (ty @toruro for encouraging me when i felt shit ab this gkjnrgvkjrng and beta-ing ofc)

As someone who could vomit at the mere thought of throw-up, you tried not to stare into the toilet bowl as you emptied your guts in this questionable club bathroom.

It was proving to be easier than you’d anticipated, naturally, when your eyes were blurred with bubbling tears. Were they because of your wretching or the feelings that churned in your heart? You can’t be entirely sure, nor can you find yourself having the mental strength to figure out. There’s a banging on the door behind you, one that sends your already aching head into a hurling spin.

“Open the door, I have water for you, it’ll help!” You hear Mika blare from the other side, concern lacing her voice.

You try to blink the tears away but they cascade down your cheek anyway, rubbing at them furiously before preparing to haul yourself off the disgusting bathroom floor. Taking a deep breath was a horrible idea, you realize when an atrocious mixture of scents hit your nostrils, cringing visibly.

Washing your hands at the sink took you another five minutes, scrubbing furiously at your palms and nails with the dollar store soap the club graciously placed in a fancy dispenser, pumping more than a normal amount to rid yourself of the paranoia of tainted hands.

Unfortunately for you, your palms were tainted with entities beyond mere soap and water’s powers.

It was evident with the way you exited the bathroom feeling perhaps worse than you went in. Mika was nowhere to be seen in the hall, moving along to the private room where the rest of the group was to find her springing up as you enter.

“You weren’t answering, so I left. Here, water, I told you to be careful with what you drink; you haven’t had a bite to eat either.” She reprimands.

“Sorry,” you smile sheepishly, not having a reasonable excuse to give her.

Joshua peeks over her shoulder, “You feeling any better?”

The water is slow to go down as you sputter before replying in a hoarse voice, “Yeah. Way.”

To be fair, the water did help. But it was you who was the problem, blaming the alcohol for the behaviour all your friends knew perfectly well where it was stemming from. Not a word was said though, for your sake or their own. You wrap up quickly after that, Joshua insisting to drop you off home himself, quoting how Seokmin would have his head if he left you in the hands of a taxi driver in this state — age gap be damned. You can only thank him as he pulls up to your destination, hoping you’ll remember this in the morning to return the favour in the future.

“Before you go, can we talk for a second?” he piques, halting you as you remove your seatbelt.

“Sure, yeah. What is it?”

“I’m not gonna ask if you’re doing alright, not when you’re gonna give me the same answer as always. But…please take care of yourself. You’ve been drinking quite a bit lately, and it can’t be helping you at all”

You listen to him silently, not a thought in your brain. But you nod anyway.

“Thanks for looking out, Shua. I’m…I’m probably not gonna be going out for a while, you’re right,” you reply, quietly, a small smile on your face that you can only hope is reassuring.

“I don’t mean lock yourself up, either. You don’t give yourself a break and then try to make up for it by drinking your self faint every week, that’s never gonna help you. You know that.” He speaks in a soft, soothing voice, a hand coming up to pat your hair before landing on your clasped hands on your lap. “You know what, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night, we can go the fair just me, you and Seok-”

“I have class tomorrow.”

“Like showing up hungover is gonna help you retain any information. Just skip.”

You sigh a deep exhale, deciding to simply be upfront. “I kinda just wanna stay home for a while, going out’s kinda making it worse. I think rotting in front of my laptop’s what I really need right now”

Throwing in a tinkle of a laugh, you hope you’ve sold yourself.

“Alright,” he sounds slightly unconvinced but doesn’t push you further, “I’ll drop in to bother you tomorrow though, don’t try stoping me”

“Okay,” you say, smiling a little wider. “I’m gonna go now, goodnight.”

“Wait!” he stops you once again, right before your about to shut the door. “Have you talked to Mingyu at all?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Shua. Night”

With that you’ve slammed the door of his car shut, missing the ghost of a “goodnight” that leaves Joshua’s lips as he watches you walk inside the building.

“And stop staying out so late at night! What were you supposed to do if Joshua wasn’t there?” Seokmin rants as he walks back and forth grabbing you water and pills as you finish your forced breakfast.

“Take a taxi?” you suggest sarcastically.

“What? And get me called to the station to identify your body parts when some dude decides he wants to play cannibalistic butcher?” he screeches, and it has you wincing and grabbing onto your head at his volume. You dramatize it a little, hoping he’d shut it with his nagging if you gained some extra sympathy. He doesn’t stop talking, but he does tone it down.

“Whatever, I’m not going out anymore.” You push your plate and bowl away as you hop off the stool and stalk off to your room, making as much noise as possible in the process.

Your brother calls after you, but you don’t stop. Your head was pounding,

“Are you gonna take your meds? HELLO? Or do you enjoy the feeling of having your head split open?” he slams open the door of your room mid-sentence, going on at your blanket-clad figure on the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, you’re taking your fucking meds.” A cup of water is thrust into your hands as you pick up the pills from Seokmin’s open palms, swallowing before he decides to shove it down your throat himself.

He waits on the edge of the bed, checking to make sure you actually swallowed the pill instead of hiding it under your tongue like you’ve done since you were kids.

“I’m not stopping you from going out if that’s what you think I mean,” he starts, a lot softer this time, and you’re taken back to your conversation with Joshua last night. “You’ve been going out and coming home wasted a lot more than normal lately. I don’t know if it’s because your college agendas are finally catching up to you or what.”

“I’m just…My friends are always out and I wanna be with them, it’s normal,” you grumble, disappearing deeper into your sheets.

“You’d tell me if something was bothering you, right?”

‘Yeah, yeah, now shoo. Your voice is making my head hurt worse, I doubt Advils are immune to your yapping.”

“Fine, fuck you too” he mumbles, leaving the room only to pop back in a second later. “Mom called last night, told her you were at a study group. Might wanna call her back before she catches a flight herself.”

You wave two fingers up in a salute from your flat position on the bed, hearing him close the door. You don’t sit up until you hear the TV blare from the living room, knowing he had parked himself on the couch and has his attention diverted.

The headache wasn’t actually that bad, you just really wanted to be left alone, and your brother had a habit to do the opposite when asked, so it had to be done.

What on Earth were you supposed to tell him, anyway? That his best friend in the whole world rejected his sister on the spot when she confessed her decades long feelings? That she was ruining her liver and kidneys every weekend over a rejection? By his best friend in the whole world?

Yeah, that’s an easy conversation.

Snuggling into the covers you try not to think back to the abomination that was your birthday party just a few weeks ago, but your thoughts yank you there anyway, as if to remind you of every wretched detail of the encounter like it was wasn’t already burned into your frontal lobe like a brand.

You were on a high; too happy, too excited. It’s not like you were expecting anything for your first birthday at uni anyway, you were too old for pink blowout parties and too young for the madness of college level clubbing. You were excited for takeout with your brother, to sit in front of the TV for the rest of the night, maybe even stick a candle in one of your burgers and call it your cake. Plans were changed when you walked into your home, ready to wind down for the night and celebrate in your own way.

It was a full house, food and drinks everywhere, complete with a loud “SURPRISE” as you walk through the door. You remember hugging both your brother and Mingyu when they tell you they did all of this for you, an overwhelming feeling overcoming you as you grip them tight, hoping it’ll transfer all the gratitude you couldn’t express.

You’re breathless as the night progresses, trying hard to focus on the conversations at hand, trying to be a good host. Failing miserably, you can’t force your gaze from wandering every few minutes, searching for Mingyu in the crowd, watching him move his mouth as he talked, throw his hair back as he laughed, smile that beautiful, beautiful smile of his, perfect teeth on display.

It had been bliss these past few weeks, the lingering smiles he would give you, the flirtatious attempts never gone unnoticed. The smoothest of words slipping right off his tongue as he gave you eyes that twinkled and sparkled and blew air directly into the embers in your heart. You would still yourself as they would happen, like the mirage would crack and shatter if you even dared to breathe; it felt unreal. After all these years, you realised soon, Kim Mingyu may have began to like you.

You’d be lying if you said you were completely sober when it happened, drinks were passed around and as the birthday girl you didn’t seem to have a choice to back down, already a little hot and wide eyed barely halfway through the night.

And when Mingyu doesn’t interact with you all night, you go to him as the numbers in the house dwindled, cornering him as he collected bottles in the kitchen.

“Hey!”, he sounds enthusiastic, “You having fun yet?”

“Yeah, thanks again for doing this.” your remember fidgeting with your fingers and nails, digging them into each other as you let yourself spew.

“Are you gonna say thank you at every chance for the next six months? It's your first birthday away from home. Besides it was Seok’s idea, I just helped out.” He had said, beaming.

“Mingyu, can I talk to you about something…?”

You sigh loudly as you replay the memory, face pushed into the covers as you bite back a scream at the blood rushing to your head.

Stupid. Idiot. Absolutely brainless.

“Oh.” He had breathed out when you had spilled your entire heart out to him standing in that kitchen, visibly taken aback at your abruptness. “I…I’m sorry I’m not quite sure what to say.”

You still remember that sickening feeling, that big ball of junk and emotions that sank lower and lower in your abdomen, settling a deep hurt in your chest that made it difficult to breathe.

Laying in your bedroom, weeks after the fact, you can still feel your breathing go slightly erratic at the memory, hot tears springing your eyes, burning before you wipe them away. You were aware how baffling it was, how you were letting it affect you to this degree, but you justified it with the years you had remained quiet, yearning on the sidelines.

You deserved to wallow in this pit.

At least that’s what you thought. But after last night you wonder if you had stopped indulging in the sorrow and let it ruin you instead. A sigh escapes you at the thought of ending yet another night in a dirty bathroom, makeup smeared and guts removed, misery becoming the only thing you were allowed to feel in the aftermath.

You reach for your phone on the bedside table, flicking through your unread messages, barely registering a word as you leave them opened and unanswered. There wasn’t an ounce of willpower in you even after a full night’s sleep, turning your phone off before shoving it in your bedside drawer, forgotten. You take a moment to stare at the ceiling, having no energy to get up to turn your lights off. Until the doorbell sounds.

Of course you knew who it was the second you heard, but the voice paired with your brother’s conversing outside was enough to have you catapulting out of bed. You slap your hand over the switchboard, turning off all your lights, moving across the room to pull your curtains shut, cascading complete darkness in the room. You fly under the covers as a last effort to convince, covering your face with the sheets just as you hear a knock.

The door creaks open slightly as Seokmin calls out your name.

“Are you up? Mingyu’s here, he brought coffee.” He whispers slowly. You don’t respond.

He calls out your name one more time before you hear the door click shut. You don’t move till you hear his muffled voice on the other end, “She’s knocked out, her head was hurting, better let her rest.”

Heat pricks the sides of your face as your body finally relaxes, borderline embarrassed at how you were hiding from him like a middle schooler who thinks she’s in love. Which you were at one point; now you're a college kid who thinks she’s in love.

You try not to focus too much on the sounds coming from outside, burying under the covers to attempt at sleep for real this time. Eyes screwed shut, you can’t help but open them at every other intonation. There was no way you could figure out what they were saying if you tried, between the door and the TV, it was all a taunting buzz in your ears.

You do end up falling asleep. But only after you hear the droning of the TV turn off, and the distinct goodbyes as the front door clicks shut.

Keeping to your promise, you stay away from late nights for the next couple of weeks. Joshua so far as commends you for declining invitations, offering dinner on him on one particular phone call.

“You know, I was serious when I said I was proud of you.” Joshua voices solemnly as you attempt to cut a strip of meat onto the grill. You snort as a response.

“I wasn’t like, an alcoholic, you’re making it sound worse than it was.”

“It was still bad for it to affect you in that way. Takes a lot to get back up from heartbreak”

“Especially one that’s lasted for nearly a decade.” You sigh as you give up on the meat, handing the scissors and tongs over.

“Are we still talking about that?” He raises his eyebrows.

A smile makes its way to your face, nibbling on a radish, “No.”

“Good. Because we need to talk about if we want our noodles hot or cold.”

“Seok! SEOK! Where the fuck did you put my pimple patches?” Your screams echo across the house yet garner no response. Opting to yank open the fridge, you dig through through the box of face masks to find them possibly laying at the bottom, forgotten. Seokmin bounds into the kitchen, towel in hand as he pats at his damp hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, shoving the unfruitful box back into the cabinet, "you used up all the patches.”

“Patches? Pimple patches? We’ve been out for a month, just use this tube in the drawer.” Pulling open the drawer, he rummages for a moment before emerging with a sickly yellow tube of what looked like poorly marketed toothpaste.

“You want me to put this on my face?”

“Yeah, it works, zit on my nose was gone by morning.” He stuffs the tube back in the drawer not before squeezing a small amount on his fingers to dab on your face.

“Ew, get your dirty hands away from my face.” You grip his wrists before he tries to move in further.

He does nothing but shush you, shaking off your hands as you grumble in silence, letting him finger paint on your face. You move up to fix a roller on your head, undoing it before rolling the bit back in, resulting in another “tsk” emitting form your brothers concentrated face.

“Okay, enough! I don’t have that many zits.” You pull away as Seokmin moves to wash his hands.

“Are you going to bed right now?” He asks as you move over to the door.

“Yeah. I’m not going to sleep, though.”

“Gyu’s coming over, you were asleep when he was here last too.”

It seemed as though every bone in your body rattled against your flesh.

“When is he coming?” You ask quickly, frozen in your spot.

The doorbell rings.

“Right now, I guess.” He snickers to himself.

You can only watch in mild horror as he moves to open the door, words escaping you. You follow behind him, trying to stop him, yet not doing much other than reach the front door yourself, fingers frozen yet mildly trembling.

“Wait!” You finally whisper-shout, “Don’t open it!”

Seokmin pauses to give you a look, “Why? He’s seen you look worse, it’s fine”

The door wrenches open before you can protest any further, a cartoonish moment of the hunched figure of you, hands out in a nearly there grip. You’ve failed, and the chorus of ‘hey’’s reach your ears in almost a mocking manner. There’s a conscious effort on your end to not look up too high, keeping to chest eye level for your own sanity. What you find once your vision clears from the white blur, is that there’s not one, but two people at the door.

Mingyu’s brought a girl.

Standing behind the door meant there was no immediate attention on you, which should have been a perfectly good opportunity for you to book it to your room, but you don’t. You stand there instead, staring at the back of their heads like a child in wonder.

Once you are noticed by your brother, he winces at your appearance, a silent apology, like he didn’t know about this new guest either. Or he was apologising for what he was about to do next, you wouldn’t know, because you wouldn’t be hearing him out when you throttle him later.

“This is my sister”

All three sets of eyes are on you now, a moment of silence as they take in your appearance. The grandma nightgown, in all its blue and collared glory, does absolutely nothing to boost your confidence in front of the very pretty lady, whose hair cascades down her back, whose skin stands as clear as a summer sky.

“Hi!” She breaks the awkward silence first, “I’m Jia, it’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about the both of you.”

What?

“Mingyu has a hard time keeping his mouth shut, I’m not surprised.” Seokmin tries to joke as he motions for the couch in the centre of the room. You catch him kicking a stray sock out of the way as he urges them to sit.

With the way your brother is acting, you don’t doubt this is his first time meeting this girl. Mingyu is yet to clarify why he would bring a friend to the house unannounced, but something tells you you already know. You remain on the sidelines, inching away to the hallway slowly, trying your hardest to not bring attention to yourself.

“I haven’t seen you around campus ever, are you new?” Seokmin prods, his voice slightly on edge.

“Oh, um-” Jia begins but is cut off by Mingyu as he speaks for her.

“Jia doesn’t go to our uni, we met at Seungcheol’s, we’ve been dating for a couple months.”

There it is.

“Oh! Couple months? How come I didn’t know?” You don’t miss the hurt laced in your brother's words, your fists clenching slightly at the oncoming silence.

“That’s on me, sorry. It’s just…I didn’t want anyone to know ‘cause I thought he was playing around when he said he liked me, I wanted to see if he was being real or not.” She laughs nervously, and you see the back of her head move as she talked. You can’t help but note the arm that’s swung across the back of the couch where she sat. “Please don’t be mad at him! I promise it was me that stopped him.”

You don’t hear too much of what happens afterwards as you slip away into the crevice of your bedroom, standing in the entryway in absolute silence, attempting to absorb what you had just witnessed outside. Approaching the full length mirror on the other end, it takes a lot out of your to bring yourself to look straight into it, regretting it immediately as you acknowledge your appearance.

Of course, the woman who actually succeeded in winning over the man that rejected you had to witness you in the unappealing yellow paste that your brother graciously dotted all over your face, not leaving the giant rollers in your hair to cut you any slack either. You could cry about it, but you don’t. Instead you lay back in your bed, sniffling in the dark, just as you had the last time Mingyu was over.

It’s significantly easier to drown out the voices this time round, especially when your mind is preoccupied with a couple months. Your birthday was a couple months ago, does that mean they started dating right after that conversation? Or were they already offical and you had waltzed in with your princess dreams about your brother’s best friend being in love with you.

It made perfect sense at the time, and no sense at all anymore as you wonder why on Earth he was being so forwardly flirty with you if there was another girl all along. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth as you recall how he had quit perceiving you altogether after that night, and you can’t help but mentally commend Jia for testing him by keeping it quiet. Especially when he was going around flirting with his best friend’s sister.

It didn’t take long for you to guage Mingyu’s reputation when you first dropped into university, the senior having made himself a reputation none less similar than he had in high school. He was popular, but with his outgoing personality and a face like that it was hard not to be liked. Your brother was right there beside him, living it up as carefree college kids, suddenly remembering he now had a little sister to tend to. You were grateful for the both of them for being there to help you take your first baby steps, all the rites of passage and which professors sucked the least, not leaving the leaky water fountain to never drink from.

That was when Mingyu’s (supposed) advances had begun.

You’re projected back to first semester, when both of them had dragged you to the same couch outside, talking about an “important thing you should know”.

“You walk into class one day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. Your professor drones on as usual, your classmates look bored as usual, you’re tired as usual. But then!” Seokmin breathes in sharply, and you hear Mingyu bound to the other side of your vision, emerging on the opposite end of the room with a backpack swung over his shoulder.

“The man of your dreams walks by…” Seokmin continues and you snap your head towards him in a panic, suddenly afraid he had found you out. He’s busy though, making ethereal hands in Mingyu’s general direction, while the latter walks in comedic slow motion like he’s in a K-drama b-roll, complete with passes over his hair and a nonchalant yet controlled expression.

“What is this about?” It comes out snappier than you had intended, but you’ve had one scare already.

“Just!” your brothers hands turn from graceful to clenched, like it was you he was trying to squish you for interrupting him, “Listen, alright?”

“The man of your dreams walks by,” he goes back to his narrator voice, “and you wonder where he’s been all your life. You start talking, you’re enamoured. You start thinking about introducing him to your parents, what your wedding’s gonna look like, what your kids are gonna look like!”

Your face is becoming increasingly warped the more you listen to him speak, not being able to fathom where this was going.

“But no!” It’s Mingyu that speaks this time, pushing a jolt out of you as he slams the backpack on the floor, pointing directly at you for added effect, “You’re better than that!”

“What the fuck-” you start, but are shushed by a physical finger on your lips as Mingyu shushes you. Seokmin slaps his hand away.

“Our point is, that you’re probably gonna come across someone who you think is your next boyfriend.” Your brother continues, “But lucky for you, you have two seasoned professionals here to tell you that it’s nothing but fresher’s fever.”

“It’s a new place, new people, loads of new experiences; you’re bound to latch on one of the first couple pieces of meat. Our advice is don’t, because it will happen to you. But you also now know that your just in a deluded stage right now. Give it a semester before you start dating people, trust.” Mingyu finishes for Seokmin as he thumps down on the couch next to you.

“So all of this was just another stay away from boys lecture?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Yes and no. You can date whoever you want,” Seokmin answers coolly before quickly adding, “but not right now.”

It was laughable, the thought of latching onto another person when you’d been trying exactly that for years. To have anyone catch your eye, to have anyone sweep you away from this madness that came in the form of Kim Mingyu. Neither of these seasoned professionals had a thing to worry about though, because you weren’t latching on anything that came out of this institute. You had already done so, in a stage more impressionable than this, years and years before any of them knew of the dangers of young girls and new boys in their vicinity.

“Okay, I know you’re like on a self inflicted party ban and all that…” Joshua starts the second he places himself at your table, still haggard looking from jogging across campus.

“Don’t even try.” You warn with filled cheeks.

“Girl, let him finish.” Nayeon chides next to you.

You exhale through your nose heavily, going back to pick at your tray as Joshua continues.

“Cheol’s throwing a little party tonight to celebrate the end of midterms.” He starts, “You should come, it's only gonna be a handful of people.”

“A handful?” You repeat, unable to bite back the amusement in your voice.

“Come on, your brother’s going as well! You’ll be fine, I promise we’ll keep you in check.”

“I don’t need to be kept in check, I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Perfect! Nothing stopping you then, I’ll pick you both up at 8.” The words are barely out of his mouth before he’s back to sprinting out the vicinity, garnering looks from oncoming traffic, off to his next pestering destination

“I don’t think I’d explicitly agreed.” You voice.

“He got what he wanted.” Nayeon snorts, “Whatever, we’ll get ready at my place after this.”

“Weren’t you guys worried about me? Now you’re actively dragging me to parties.” You drop your utensils onto the tray.

“Too much of either isn’t a good thing, you went from forgetting what home looks like to exclusively holing yourself up in there.” She stabs a piece of potato with a chopstick and tries to pry it in your mouth. “Besides, Cheol’s parties are always super intimate, they’re all gonna be people you know, don’t worry.”

‘Super intimate’, as Nayeon had put it, had amounted to at least fifty people as you take in the crowd at the floor of the house. Despite not being packed to the brim, it was still coming out to look like a full house, random items already scattered across the floors in true frat party fashion.

“Do you want a beer?” Nayeon asks, dragging you to the kitchens by the hand as you crane your neck to spot people.

“Uh, no. Is there juice?”

“Um, there’s a questionable looking fruit punch.” she wrinkles her nose at the blaring red bowl on the counter.

You sigh, grabbing a cup, “I’ll risk it.”

Joshua was air the second he had walked in with you, whisked away to socialize with his own hoard of acquaintances, leaving both you and Nayeon to fend for yourselves. You’re yet to spot your brother, granted you’d only been here a mere five minutes, his rowdy demeanor making him quite easy to spot in usual circumstances.

Taking a casual sip of the electric red liquid you’re forced to make a face as you register the flavour, alerting Nayeon, who was too busy fiddling through multiple crystal bottles.

“What? Is it bad?”

“What the fuck is that?” You sputter in astonishment, wondering how the bowl was already half empty. “Who’s drinking this stuff?”

She grabs the cup from you before taking a gulp herself, emerging the same gagging mess you were, eyes watering at the taste. It seemed almost comical when Seokmin shows up behind her, waiting to greet only to find both of you doubled over. His eyes move over to the potion in Nayeon’s hand and passes a knowing look.

“He’s brought The Whole Shabang out of retirement.” He states like it was the obvious answer.

Nayeon spits first, “Are we supposed to know what that means?”

“Cheol got drunk one time in freshman year and mixed every ounce of alcohol he owned into one big bowl of despair. We retired it last year when the bowl broke and stained his counters. But anyway, beginners are supposed to dilute it before downing it.”

“That’s great and everything but why is it so red?” You ask.

Another voice speaks from behind you, turning around to find Seungcheol himself. “There’s an entire thing of food colouring in there, gives it an edge don’t you think?”

“I’m scared of you.” You deadpan, a sour expression remaining on your face.

Seunghceol is quick to suggest the backyard for some fresh air to distract from the flavour it’s left in your mouths, commenting on the nice weather. Neither him nor your brother stick around for too long though, dipping at the holler of their names somewhere inside. You’re comfortable though, despite being blocked off by a concrete railing, the stairs make a nice haven for the both of you to lie down and stare into the clearer than usual sky. Cheol was right, it was nice outside.

“I can’t lay down like this, I need to get a drink.” Nayeon announces not even five minutes later.

“Why didn’t you get one when we were there?” You groan, but she doesn’t respond as she hops back inside, throwing a promise to be quick in the air behind her.

The wall supports you as you deflate into it, legs sprawled across the steps in disarray. Nobody could see you anyway, taking full advantage as you practically manspread. The side of the pool that’s in your vision is empty by grace; calm save for the giant flamingo floaty that bobs itself into view from the edge of the wall you lean against. A breathy laugh leaves you at the sight.

The railing on your other side is mostly concealed, you can still make out the wicker sofa set, complete with an unlit fireplace. It’s unoccupied, for the time being, as you register a conversation floating closer and closer to your ears. Wondering if Nayeon had brought friends, you stand up quickly to look over the railing to check for her face over the sliding door that leads inside.

There’s no Nayeon in sight.

But there is Mingyu.

His mere presence knocks your butt back onto the concrete the second you see him stumbling over the threshold with a hoard of his friends, nothing short of his picturesque party strut. There was little reason for you to hide from him at all, considering the very possible notion that he would look right past you if you happened across his line of sight. Space floating in, he’d ignore you for your sake or his own, perhaps even both.

For now, he’s seated himself with a few other people on the wicker sofas, leaving you hugging your knees to your chest, head on the concrete wall with the lingering feeling akin to that of a trapped mouse. Closing your eyes, you blow out air in an attempt to relax yourself, take light of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You could get up and leave in this very moment, possibly go unnoticed if you stalked back inside before they began their rattle not meant for your ears.

And yet, you find yourself unable to move, not even when you hear their topic shift to Mingyu’s new beau. Suddenly you wish you’d moved inside the moment you saw him.

“Was it you that stopped Jia from coming to parties?” You hear somebody ask.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Mingyu grumbles, he pauses and you assume he’s taking a swing of his drink. “We started going out and suddenly she didn’t wanna come, that’s fine though, it isn’t her vibe anyway.”

There’s a snigger that moves across everybody seated, you hear loud thwack before Mingyu speaks again, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“This girl’s made you work for it, huh?”

“Isn’t that like, his brand? Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one yapping about liking a challenge all the time.”

“Yeah, remember Minji?”

“I still think she was only pretending to not like you, her clique was always smacking at her to straighten up when you’d come over like we couldn’t see everything.” You could almost hear the eye rolling.

“Change the subject, will you?” Mingyu proposes, sounding exhausted at the prodding already.

“I apologise for the ex talk and nothing else.”

There’s a pause for another choke of laughter across the group, and you wonder what it was that they found so funny.

“I don’t know if I should say this…” Somebody begins, but is cut off by Mingyu.

“Then don’t say it.” He snaps, but you don’t miss his own jest.

“I honestly thought you were gonna date Seok’s sister at some point. I mean, common consensus is that bagging your best friend’s sister is… what you’d call a challenge.”

What the fuck.

You feel your eyes drifting closed at the turn this conversation has taken, wishing to simply fall asleep at what it’s come to. Somebody speaks up.

“Nah, that’s like, the grand slam prize, that one comes after he’s done hanging with the side quests.”

The situation is making itself out to be something out of a fever dream.

Mingyu tsks, and you note a jostle happening through the gaps of the railing. “I’m leaving.”

You find yourself hugging yourself tighter, eyes shut like he wouldn’t be able to see if you couldn’t see him. Not that it was possible unless he peered directly through the railing in his peripheral.

“OKAY! Okay! We’re kidding.” There’s a pause. “Okay, but really…”

Another pause, this time longer. You hate how you can picture the ghost of an exasperated smile on Mingyu’s face, a bite of his lip perhaps, dejected at the shoulder with his longing, distant look. You hate how your mind fills the gaps of him the railing won’t allow you to see.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

There’s a chorus of hisses and oh’s, a few bounts of laughter in their disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, heat pooling your figure.

It would’ve been better if his words had hit you like a gong, maybe the aftermath wouldn’t have felt as horrid. But the connotations crept up on you like a million spiders making their trek up to your brain, waiting to stick their crawlers in the bits that would allow those words to hold meaning for you. You can feel the electric red of Seungcheol’s god awful concoction begin to rise up in your throat like bile; burning, imprinting.

Mingyu had said what he had said. And everything was in it’s place, in finality.

Despite the nearly four year age gap, you and Seokmin had co-existed without the semblance of an older-younger duo. It was mostly owed to Seokmin's shy nature, and his difficulty making solid friends. That, however, didn’t last long as your brother progressed through middle school.

You had met Mingyu for the first time when Seokmin brought his first ever friend from school home for dinner.

Despite being barely nine years old and half spoon fed by your mother at the same table, the prospect of Seokmin’s new friend was equal to you having a new friend – which caused enough excitement as you brought your favourite cartoon books into your brother’s room to show this new person after dinner.

As the following year progressed, you saw less and less of your brother, and more and more of newer faces of ‘friends’ that you weren’t allowed to play with. It was distressing enough to be told by your mother that something of your brother’s was not yours, but even more so when you were kicked out of the room by Seokmin himself for the very first time.

It wasn’t as trauamtising as it felt in the moment, because you grew to find your own group of friends, doing the same as you’d kick your brother out for being annoying – except unlike you, he was doing it on purpose.

Mingyu was a recurring face, one that was nicer to you on the days your brother was meaner, more forgiving on the days your relatively new middle school was relentless. He fit himself in your life easier than you had realised, more comfortable than you soon found you were comfortable with.

“Did you take my guitar picks?” Your brother bursts into your room just as your about to fall into your after school nap, grip loosening on the book in hand.

Jolting awake at the sound of loud voice, you don’t respond as you attempt to orient yourself.

“Well? Did you?” He demands again.

“What? No, I don’t know where your stupid guitar pick is.” You grumble. “Get out.”

“It’s not in my room that has to mean you took it, where is it?”

Mingyu emerges from behind him, hand on his arm as he tries to pull his iron grip off of your doorway. “It’s probably just in your bag, you haven’t even looked!”

Kicking the covers off, you sit up in a disarray, progressively annoyed at your brother for ruining your perfect descent into dreamland.

“I don’t have shit, you just suck at keeping tabs on your stuff!” You grit.

There’s a stagnant pause as he stares at you from the doorway. You can sense it coming. And it does.

“MOM! SHE JUST SWORE!” He yells into the hallway, bounding to where your mother was, leaving an unsure Mingyu in your doorway.

Surprisingly, you were just glad he was gone, wanting to melt back into the covers. You make eye contact with Mingyu. “I really don’t have it.”

“It’s probably in there somewhere, he’s just not looking.” He mumbles, standing a little awkward. “Um, go back to whatever it was, I’ll close your door.”

He does so, allowing you to finally slump back into your pillows to go back to your nap.

You find out quickly that you couldn't sleep after that.

The controller is becoming increasingly uncomfortable to hold. It doesn’t help that you’re brother is chewing on his four additional pieces of gum behind you on the couch, making obnoxious comments about your gaming form.

You’re also sitting a foot away from Kim Mingyu on the floor, with whom you’re forced to battle out on Mario Kart.

“Why’re you clicking the buttons so hard, chill out.” You heat Seokmin say, continued by his wet chomping right by your ear.

“How hard is it to chew with your mouth closed?” Mingyu grits.

“What? Like this?” Seokmin leans over to Mingyu, chewing even louder, mouth wrenched open and closed right into his ear. Mingyu makes a sound before falling to his side, covering his ears at the ghastly sound, pushing him back with his free hand to shut him up.

You barely crack a smile at the unfolding, watching them continue to wrestle half on the floor. It’s noisy when you set your controller down, chest heavy, unfolding your legs to walk into the hallway to your room. Unnoticed.

You only reemerge to feed yourself, inspecting the fridge for possible leftovers. Settling on an apple, you’re closing the fridge when you see Mingyu walk in, seemingly taken aback to see you there. You freeze with your mouth still attached to the apple to take a bite.

“Oh! Where’d you go when we were playing? Didn't notice you gone till I got him to spit that wad of gum out his mouth.”

“Uh, just tired. Took a nap.”

He hums in response and you're just about to leave when he starts talking again.

“Hey, did you move the popcorn somewhere else? Could’ve sworn it was in here last week,” he mumbles as he rummages through a cabinet.

“Oh. Um. It’s in the pantry.” You move before you can think, grabbing the box and slamming it on the counter, pausing briefly before reaching for the popcorn bowl and setting it on the counter next to it. “Here.”

You don’t wait for a reply before grabbing your apple and moving out the kitchen, only to bump into your brother at the door.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Napping,” you say, moving around him to go your own way but are stopped yet again as he calls for you.

“We’re gonna watch a movie! You can lie on the couch.”

Turning around, you catch sight of your brother still in the doorway, and more intriguing, Mingyu also expecting an answer from inside the kitchen behind him. You gulp as you attempt to remain casual.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun.”

You’re nearly at your door when you hear your brother speak. “She didn’t even ask what we were watching.”

Nayeon catches up with you before you notice, pulling your headphones away from your ears to announce her presence, not slowing down as you walked to campus.

“Are you still upset about that Mingyu thing?” She asks when noting your silent demeanor. “We talked about this, come on.”

“Yeah and we concluded that it’s not an easy thing for me to just get over.” You huffed.

“You know what he’s like…”

“Which is why I should’ve seen this all coming.” You turn around the corner with her.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“I don’t know what came over me that day. I was doing so well for so long and I had to go ruin it because I’m – I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance.” You’re breathing heavily when you find a table in the air conditioned common room, yanking your bag off and slumping into the sofa. “None of this would’ve happened if I just shut the fuck up.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?” Seungcheol plops down next to Nayeon, butting into the conversation.

“Aren’t you intrigued.” Nayeon muses.

“Especially when it’s none of my business.”

“Charming.”

“Anywho,” he sighs, throwing himself back against the couch. “I’ve been tasked with rounding people up for an assignment.”

“Are you gonna experiment on us?” you ask, referring to his chemistry major.

“Nah, this is for an elective. Faculty needs volunteers for a photography class.”

“So they need models?” You ask.

“I mean, anyone who signs up is automatically a model, so yeah they need models.”

“Are we getting paid?”

“You get to say you modeled for me.”

“How convincing.” Nayeon deadpans.

You’re stifling a snicker as you see Joshua walking up to where you were sat, planting himself next to you.

“What’re we talking about?” He asks, pulling his laptop out almost immediately.

“Nothing, just how Seungcheol needs a reality check,” you sigh.

He barely acknowledges the comment, going straight to business typing away. “Hey, you're staying for the summer right?”

“Ew,” Seungcheol voices.

“I am,” You confirm.

“For what?” He sputters.

“Is this you offering to pay for a round trip?”

He silences quickly after that, giving room for Joshua to ask his next question.

“Are your parents coming for your brother’s grad?”

“Mhm, only for the night, though.”

“Oh, did you hear back from the bookstore too?” he asks.

“I’m gonna apply right before break, I’m swamped right now.”

“Let me know when you do, the restaurant might need another hire, you could work there if you want.”

You make a face. “Appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think I’m in the right state of mind to be working in customer service.”

Joshua’s hands freeze over his keyboard as he breathes out a delayed laugh. Nayeon mimics him.

“Right state of mind?” Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. “Wait, what were you talking about before I sat down again-”

He’s cut off by a voice bellowing your name from across the common room. All four of you perk up at the sound, locking in on Mika aggressively pointing her wrist at you from yards away. You sit up with a jerk, checking the time. You were nearly thirty minutes late for your lecture.

“Josh, move.” You basically climb over him to get out of your seat, waving a hasty goodbye as you sprint to an exasperated Mika.

“I’ve been waiting outside the hall for ages, you said we’d go in together!” she chides as you both speedwalk.

“Sorry, I lost track of time…” You huff out a breath. “I just started talking about…whatever.”

“Why’d you have that face on in there?” she asks.

“Huh? Oh, I was-”

“Nevermind, I don’t wanna know.” She picks up the pace and reaches the door before you do, rendering it impossible for you to speak to her after that.

You’ve forgotten about it by the time you come home to an empty house, both Mika and Nayeon in your arms. It doesn’t take long for them to make themselves comfortable on the couch, looking at you expectantly like children waiting to be fed. You do that, courtesy of the half eaten pizza that sits on the coffee table.

“I think you need to get drunk,” Nayeon voices from her end of the couch.

Mika is immediate with her response, “Don’t encourage her.”

“Hey!” You pout, “I haven’t gotten drunk in a while.”

“Keep it that way,” she shudders, “don’t need another Mingyu fiasco.”

Your chewing slows at the sound of his name, a strange feeling settling in your stomach at the thought of him. Setting down your half eaten slice, you brush off your fingers.

“I mean…” Nayeon starts after a long pause.

“We don’t. Need another Mingyu fiasco, I mean.” You cut in.

“If only he’d learn to shut up.” Nayeon grumbles, a sour expression on her face.

Mika’s been shifting looks between the both of you, seemingly confused. “Am I missing something?”

Despite not having the intention, you find yourself telling her what you heard while enclosed in the staircase. You attempt to keep it concise, for the sake of your own sanity, but Nayeon’s grumbling is only pushing you deeper into a rant. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t let a couple frustrated tears make their way down your face.

Mika’s response as brisk as your explanation was passionate, brushing over the topic quickly before you got too heated. You appreciated it.

“Have you considered signing up for the photography thing?” Mika asks.

“You know, I was thinking about that too.” Nayeon pulls a finger up in signed patience to wait till she finished the remaining pizza in her mouth. “You should do it. It’ll put your mind off…him. You’ll be busier too.”

“I have a million things to do, I’m busy enough.” You retort.

“You’re busy studying at home. Where he could drop in at any point of day.” She points.

Your open your mouth to rebut again, only to close it as you fail to find a reason to deny her point. “Okay, still!”

“Just – think about it, okay. It’ll put more on your plate but maybe it’ll help.”

That was the last of your Mingyu talk, not that you could carry on when your brother comes slumping into the house after his class, stealing a slice of pizza as he makes his way to his room. He’s slumped at the shoulders, and you egg him to take a nap before he collapsed on the living room floor.

Both Nayeon and Mika are quick to leave after that, leaving you with leftover pizza and your thoughts.

You sprawl your things out on the coffee table, taking advantage of the silent house to get some work done. Nayeon was right, as you think of the prospect of Mingyu entering at any given moment to bother your brother as a constant threat.

It’s not until your prepping dinner with Seokmin that the project is brought up again.

“There’s leftover Chow Mein Mingyu made yesterday, shove that in too.” He yawns as he pushes the box over.

You can only stare at the box in mild agitation, contemplating if you should simply chuck it into the garbage chute. Unfortunately, by experience, you knew Mingyu made really good Chow Mein, so you begrudgingly slide the opened box into the microwave to heat up, deciding you’d push Seok to eat it before you have a chance to take a bite.

It’s silent while you eat, Seokmin still in a daze from his earlier nap, shoving spoonfuls of noodles in between bites of pizza. It’s not until your halfway through eating before he jolts up slightly like he’d just remembered something.

“Did you hear about that volunteering thing from the photography department? They want models for some project.”

“Oh, yeah.” You pause, thinking back to what Nayeon had proposed. “Are you gonna sign up?”

“No, but you should.”

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of prep for finals.”

“You get extra credit if it helps,” he notes.

That was news to you. There’s a frown on your face as you deny, “No, you don’t.”

“They’re doing it ‘cause they weren’t getting the response they wanted. I found out just now too, they’re gonna put it up on the bulletin tomorrow. Might wanna decide before then.”

There were no questions asked after the realization, blue light of the laptop casting your face aglow in the darkened room as you hit the big blue Confirm button on the website. Skimming through the subsequent email, you find you won’t be needed till next week, the date and time making it’s way to your calendar.

Now, if you had known what the next week truly held for you, there was no doubt you’d be sending in a cancellation email at first chance.

But you didn’t know. So you simply went to bed, falling asleep to the vague idea of searching for modeling tips on youtube during the coming weekend, entertaining the mild possibility that this might be the thing that puts you at peace at last.

The photography classes are held in regular lecture rooms, as you find out as you file into the sparingly filled hall at the date your calendar has graciously alerted you for. There was an image of a larger, more spacious area for a discipline pertaining to the arts, yet to be fair, the idea of having to create this form of art within a four walled containment did seem a little counter productive.

Nonetheless, you find yourself seated in a spare chair, waiting for the clock to hit nine on a Saturday morning for the shuffling professor at the front of the room to begin. Your eyes make passovers across the gradually filling room, searching for a semblance of Seuncheol’s bright blond hair to wave him over. There’s no sign of him five minutes before the minute hit twelve, and you’re thinking about slipping to the restroom before it can to kill the remaining time.

There’s another person filing into the room as you rise from your chair, and you pause in attempt to recognize Cheol in the grey zip up.

Except you don’t find Seungcheol, not at all.

Mingyu is walking into the classroom, gaze sweeping across the hall as he seats himself in the front bottom row, head thrown back as he sifts through his perfect hair with his fingers.

You aren't sure why your brows furrowed like they did, or why you planted your butt back onto the chair with the force that you did; especially when all you wanted to do was book it out of the room in full velocity.

He was taking this class. Of course you knew that, especially when it was all he would yap about at any point he graced your presence.

You can feel your purpose in the room fade to nothing as you register him as a unit. You want to blame someone, but you know it’s all you fault. You knew he’d be here; if your mind had only thought fit to remind you at any point in the past week.

In regular Mingyu fashion, if he’d seen you, he does nothing to show it as you find him unraveling a loose thread off of his jacket. You keep your eyes on him, remaining mortified at your blatant disregard to the information that Mingyu was also in this class. Come to think of it, it was probably Mingyu who told Seokmin about the added credit in the first place. You want to kick yourself for not questioning your brother’s apparent magical source of information.

There’s nothing that can be done as you feel Seungcheol finally slip into the seat next to you just as the professor in the front of the room begins to speak. You’re not in the right headspace to make conversation, so you're grateful for the small acknowledgment as the professor begins to drone.

“Each student has been given a theme to work with, they’re all different and given to the people whom I saw fit for the job. You’ll be receiving your packets with your theme today, so remember to pick them up from the front desk before you leave,” she begins.

“As for your models,” she switches to the next slide over to reveal a spreadsheet full of names. “Their names will be right next to yours, the photography students.”

The entire room lurches forward as a unit, eyes squinted and whispers exchanged as they search for their partners in the sea of names. Seungcheol is zooming in on the picture he took with his phone, eyes zooming over to find his name.

“Hey, I found yours!” he announces, moving the phone over to you.

He’s zoomed into your full name on the screen, and your moving the picture aside to see the name across from it. Except, you find you wish you hadn’t.

—Kim, Mingyu.

If you needed more confirmation that the universe was simply against you, you’d gotten the message as you prayed the letters would morph into something else before your very eyes.

You seem to have been staring at the name for too long, because Seungcheol snatches his phone back from your grip to see for himself after you refused to answer his questions of what the name next to yours was.

“Oh, it’s Mingyu! That’s easy, you're basically related.”

You wanted to slap him.

Before you can stop him, he’s yelling the boy’s name across the room amidst the growing chatter, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. “Mingyu! I found your model, she’s right here!

You wanted to squeeze Seungcheol’s neck till his head popped off.

Mingyu turns around at the call, registering his friend’s words despite the growing noise. He registers you and you watch as he turns his head back at the projection, like he was confirming it was true.

Of course he’s as petrified as you are, if not more. But the embarrassment of his apparent disbelief made its hot way into your stomach and chest nonetheless, your breakfast threatening to make its way back up.

By the time the professor’s done with her bit and the room has begun to file out, you’ve found yourself standing outside the lecture hall in uncomfortable movement, shifting your weight between both feet and fiddling with the straps of your bag. Every passing face sends a jolt though your stomach as you calculate how jarring it would be if you left right this second without seeing him.

You're counting his steps inside your head, how he’d shuffle for his name on the packet he’s meant to receive, counting in any conversation he’d start with a friend or with the professor. A thought occurs to you, and you wonder if he was searching for you inside. You’re weighing between walking inside and leaving altogether when he makes the decision for you, walking out of the room, booklet in hand.

There goes the toast blaring its way back up your esophagus.

“Hey,” he says unceremoniously.

You respond with an unreasonably meek “Hi.”

“Seok didn’t tell me you signed up for this.” He points casually.

Well, Seok doesn’t need to tell you everything.

“Oh, I told him while he was like half asleep, pretty sure he thought he dreamt it.”

Mingyu snorts a little at that, a slight smile appearing on his face as he pictures a sleepy Seokmin.

“I can imagine,” he says, before he’s brought back to the matter at hand by you.

You clear your throat before you begin to talk, expression remaining neutral. “Do we need to get started right away?”

“Oh.” He seems a little taken aback at your forwardness. Like he didn’t know why you didn’t want to make small talk with him. “Uh, I don’t even know what theme I have yet. I’ll read over the packet and plan a couple things out before you have to come in.”

“That’s great.” You hold on the straps of your tote. “Text me when you need me.”

With that, you had spun on your heel and stalked away, not leaving room for him to retort with anything at all. You don’t look back.

Nayeon can do nothing but gape as she watches you hold back frustrated tears, picking apart the grass under you as you curse the heavens for your horrible fate. She’s absorbing the situation as you wallow, finding the words to say.

“Fuck, this is my fault,” she breathes out.

“No!” You gasp out, furiously wiping away the irritating tears. “It’s not. I just forgot, it’s my own fault. You were right for trying to get me to do it, it just…”

“You can’t ask to change partners?” she asks.

“I can’t!” You wail, “I’m supposed to not care, how is this me not caring?”

It was ridiculous. Truly. You were sobbing like a child over this, screaming about wanting to not care. But you did care. Too much. Nayeon can do little but hold you as you sniffle into her lap, feeling sick to your stomach at your own childish behaviour.

“Why am I crying about this, this is stupid.”

“You’re stressed, hon, that’s it. You’ve got a lot going on and this just multiplied it.” She’s running a soothing hand over your back. “Just let it out, you need it.”

You emerge from your hunched position to sit up straight, sniffling a little less as you calm down. “Should I withdraw from the project?”

“I mean, if you really want to,” she says softly.

“But?” You sense her apprehension.

“But, maybe you should give it a go.”

You can only blink at her with wet lashes.

“Think of it this way. You need to… build resistance, keep yourself around him regardless. There’s bound to come a point where you start to feel…nothing.”

“Are you trying to work exposure therapy on me?”

“Maybe? If that’s what it means. If you take yourself out of the project, it shows that you care. You need to pretend to not care before you can stop feeling the real thing.”

There’s a pause as you attempt to find reason in her words.

“Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, and if you do end up doing it, it’s gonna be hard – like a lot, but–”

“No. You’re making sense.”

“I am?” She blinks, taken aback at the realisation that you may be listening to her. You nod quietly, “You’re right, I can’t keep running away.”

“So, you’re gonna do it?” She confirms with wide eyes.

Once again, you find it within yourself to nod.

Yeah. You were gonna do it.

Being in Mingyu’s presence and feeling nothing may be the goal, but you realise quickly it’s going to take you a while to restrain the trailing eyes that follow him wherever he goes. Nayeon had warned you, but you realise you may be slightly ill-prepared.

The theme is light. Vague to you but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He isn’t looking at you as he talks, eyes darting between the laptop screen and the plethora of papers he’s scattered on the coffee table. “I don’t really have a colour preference for this one but a a deeper blue or a purple would fit pretty well with the sunlight on here.”

You can only nod along in mild understanding, most of your effort exerted on trying to keep your eyes on the screen where he’s pulling up a color wheel. “I probably have something.”

“Do you still have that button up Seok bought you? The one with the stripes?”

You recall the deep blue shirt your brother had gotten you for your first in class presentation, picturing it hung still in your closet. “Uh, yeah I do. I’ll wear it.”

“Bring options, whatever fits the colours. No turtlenecks or crewnecks though…” Mingyu continues to talk, taking notes for you in the process. Your mind, however, is somewhere else.

You hate how your mind takes you to a murkier place, one where the thought of him retaining memory of your closet pieces unprovoked has your neck tingling and your cheeks lifting. Trying to snap out of it before he notices your dazed expression, you pretend to flip through the couple papers in front of you, noting nothing.

“Other than that–” he’s cut off by his phone ringing on the table. Both your gazes dart to the caller ID, and you immediately wish you hadn’t as you register the pink heart on the end. Jia was calling.

He barely spares you a glance as he excuses himself in a mumble, something about being back in a second. You watch him leave through the cafe altogether, emerging on the other end of the glass walls in your direct vision. For the nth time that day, you find it impossible to tear your eyes away from his positively elated face, teeth out on display as talks to his girlfriend. You wonder what they’re talking about, if her face is beaming like his own, wherever she is.

You zone out as you wonder what it’d be like to be the receiving end of an expression like that. To have something within you to be worth his smile, his mumbled pardons and his uninterrupted space. There’s a part of you that wonders if its greed – you’ve gotten to see him nearly everyday for the past decade, perhaps you’ve run your tickets dry.

You realise quickly that Mingyu is no longer in your line of sight as you feel a ruffle on the chair as he sits back on his seat.

“I think we can wrap up here, let me take the first couple shots before I can see where to go with it afterwards.”

You sense his eager want to leave, and you cannot help but beat him to it for your own sake.

“Alright. I’ll see you friday then.” SLiding out of your seat, you make a halfhearted attempt at shuffling his papers in a neater pile, throwing him a half smile before grabbing your bag.

He isn’t watching you leave, you know that. Yet you find yourself refusing to slow down or look back till you round the corner, letting your shoulders finally slump and your pace to come to a temporary halt. It takes you another beat before you begin walking again, breathing in slowly as you navigate your way through the moderately crowded sidewalk. Nearly ramming into a fire hydrant, you shake off the seize that remains in your body, picking up the pace hoping it’d promote less thoughts.

It works, as you unlock your front door, finally shaking off the autopilot. Shifting to the kitchen is easy, rummaging the cabinets for your hidden stash of moonpies with the intention to devour the family box whole. You’re contemplating texting Seokmin to bring you actual food as you make your way to your bedroom, wanting nothing more than to let your covers absorb all the feelings that make you human.

You find it unfortunate as you catch sight of yourself in the full length mirror and the outfit you’d put together before you had left. Your mind goes back to pandemonium as you take in the details, wondering why on earth you’d put in so much effort for a conversation that lasted less than an hour. You tear your eyes away before you begin to truly hate yourself, ripping your jewelry off as you make a beeline to wash your face clean of the makeup you’d put on.

It becomes increasingly difficult to look at yourself even in the bathroom mirror, moisturizer going on more aggressively than what’s good for you. You feel a sting in the back of your eyes and owe it to the face wash.

It’s easier once you’re in bed, your laptop at the ready, and a text on its way as you bug your brother to bring you your favorite burger and milkshake combo. You put your immediate faith in your moonpies for now as you rip the first one open, letting the sweetness bring you a deluded happiness.

“His name hurts.” Your voice comes out echoey, the sound reverberating in the cavern of your chest. The shot on the table is inviting, but you can’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of downing it. Your fizzled out sprite is being good to you, so you let it.

“Hearing you talk about him hurts,” Mika slurs, slumping down onto the beanbag she’s dragged onto the scene, joining you and Nayeon next to the couch.

Letting out a loud sigh that you doubt she can hear over the bass booming across the house, you settle to rest your head back on the couch backrest, staring into the ceiling. “Imagine what it’s doing to me then.”

“I don’t need to.” You can hear the exasperation in her voice.

“Oh, hey, Hao!” Nayeon drags next to you and you lift your head up to see Mika’s boyfriend join her on the already tiny beanbag. He huffs out a hey between a slight smile, slumping almost entirely on his girlfriend. She pats his hair in silent regard.

“I read this research paper about how they can delete the memories out of your brain squiggles,” Nayeon pops in.

“Since when do you read academic material for interest?” Minghao mumbles, fingers busy playing with Mika’s hair.

The pair continue to bicker as your eyes trail across the moderately packed house, the party looking more lowbeat than any other Seungcheol extravaganzas. Not that you were complaining, but when you spot a certain someone, it’s hard not to.

Mingyu files into the kitchen with your brother in tow, beaming face evident over the island as he pours himself what looks like orange juice. Your mood is instantly soured.

“What study was that again?” You poke at Nayeon, the image of the man you wished for gone burned into your forebrain. She glances over to the open kitchen and realises what you’re talking about, coming around with a face of her own.

“That one’s gonna be a hard one to scrub out. But it’s okay, even the toughest stains succumb to bleach that’s strong enough,” she sighs. You’re barely listening to her analogy, not when he’s standing right there rendering it impossible for you to look anywhere else.

“You sound like a commercial.” You can almost hear the crinkle in Mika’s nose as she comments, and you can’t help but breathe out a laugh.

The rest continue with their conversation as you remain quiet for most of the exchange, eyes filling your heart heavy with the way they remain glued to the figure far out into the kitchen. It was less about the fact that you just wanted to look at him and more of how it was forcing you to think about your predicament; something that was weighing you down yet something you couldn’t help.

You can’t be entirely sure how long you managed to stare without getting caught, but when Mika calls your name out harsher than expected, you snap around to divert your attention.

“Huh?”

“Sixth time’s the charm, huh? Get it together, he’s not gonna look at you,” she huffs as she slumps back onto the beanbag, alone this time as you note that Minghao is gone.

It takes you a moment to gather what she had said, mouth gaping open and close as you try to conspire a proper response. “I wasn’t trying–”

“No. Save it. It was my fault for thinking I could sit here without having to sit through more of your Mingyu bullshit.” She’s shuffling out of her bean bag with mediocre difficulty, exasperation on her face as she trudges away to sit with her boyfriend and his friends on the seats on the middle of the floor.

The air seems to have knocked out of your chest as you find the capacity to process what just happened. Seemingly forgotten Nayeon was also here, you note the hand she places on your elbow as a sober attempt to get you to look at her.

The rest of the night passes in a nauseous blur, none that you could really make sense of. You bid Nayeon goodbye as you assured her you’d go home with your brother, waving goodbye to blurred taxi lights as she leaves you alone in front of a dwindling house.

The breath you let out is shaky as your feet remain planted on the concrete, the remnants of tonight passing over you as they came. Deciding you owed it to yourself, you let the tears well up in your eyes. As tired as you were of crying over what was essentially the same thing over and over again, you let yourself tire yourself out once more.

The party was over, and you knew that because you were walking home alone, hoping Nayeon would forgive you for lying to her. But you couldn’t possibly explain the tear stains on your cheeks to your brother, not when he knew nothing. It was better that way; you refuse to be the person that potentially ruins a friendship that’s lasted longer than any other.

You try to keep your sniffling to a minimum as you trudge slowly in the dark, not bothering to wipe your tears. Your stomping grows louder the more you grow frustrated with your thoughts, and it proves not too well for you. There’s a pair of headlights throwing light onto the oncoming street, illuminating you in the process. You want to kick yourself as the realisation settles in, praying the car would simply pass you. Considering the late hour and the fact that you were alone is hitting you at the worst time, wondering if you could pretend to make a call as you walked.

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

Middle school was harder than you thought.

Not that you expected it to be easy, but you remained hopeful nonetheless. Fifth grade came plowing for you with an unexpected vigor, which you were feeling especially as you gripped your red marked paper with a vice grip.

It was Mingyu who had found you on the kitchen island sniffling, waiting for your mother to come home and ask you for your dreaded test results.

You drop your head in shame (even more so) when he asks you the inevitable question of “what’s wrong?” Your voice comes out as a mumble. “I failed my first test.”

He blinks as he stops in front of the fridge, opening it to emerge with a carton of chocolate milk and two monsters. He slides the carton over to you as he takes a seat on the other chair.

“Well, what did you get?” he asks as he pops his can open, ears studded black from the piercings he’d gotten done.

You mumble out the number in incoherence that has him hunching down to hear you.

“What?”

“A fifteen!” you finally huff out in exasperation.

“Hm. Better than me I think I got a two at some point. Don’t worry about it, it's not the end of the world.” He says. “D’you want me to turn that into a seventy five?”

You look up confused. “How?”

“You’ll see. Get me your test. And a red marker.”

On that day, Mingyu aided you in your first con, pulling lines to turn the one into a seven right before your eyes.

“There. Now don’t let her look at it too hard or check your answers. And only give it to her if she asks for it.”

He had left back to your brother’s room with the spare can of monster, leaving you to stash your test into your bag and move to seat yourself in a more natural position. You’d gotten away with it as your mother pats you on the back for your first attempt at a fifth grade paper, leaving you with a lesson to work harder, and a memory that stayed with you for years.

The following day is met with a pit of guilt sitting in your stomach before you could even recall the events of last night.

There’s little that you can do to prep as you’re supposed to change at the studio anyway, pushing the remnants of your makeup products into a pouch as a second thought. Your hair seemed fine, deciding you’d see to it if it needed changing when you got there.

You push your departure as far as you could, finding more things to do and more chores to finish before you were due to leave. It takes you a final look at the time before you finally decide to trudge to the door with your things. You cross paths with Seokmin who’s only just coming home, looking worse for wear. He barely acknowledges you as he makes a beeline for his bedroom, disappearing.

He’s probably fine.

By the time you get to the studio Mingyu is already in the middle of setting up, immersed in the switches behind giant studio lights. It’s dark, save for the one studio light thats already on, casting a light on the white backdrop, a single stool sits at the front. Looking around, the place casts an eerie atmosphere, the unattended stations and dark back rooms casting a shiver down your spine despite the Afternoon light outside. Perhaps you were acclimated to the hustle and bustle in behind the scene videos of photoshoots, yet here it was just you and Mingyu.

He doesn’t notice you come in right away, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to recast your words in your head, waiting to be uttered as soon as you say your hellos.

“Oh, hey,” he says normally.

“Hope I’m not too late.”

“No, you’re fine, I’m nearly done setting up,” he says, as he switches the second studio light on, doubling the glow in the room.

“Oh, okay.” Your voice comes out as an uncharacteristic whisper. “Uh, listen, Mingyu, I just wanted to apologize about last night. You were only asking and I was being too harsh.”

He picks up his back from his bent position to look at you, hand coming to rub the back of his neck. “Oh, no, don’t say that, It’s me who should be apologising. I shouldn’t have pried when you said you didn’t wanna talk about it. I’m sorry, really.”

You're opening your mouth to rebut, nails clashing onto each other as your fidgeting gets worse, but you decide to end it. “We’re both sorry, let’s just end this here.”

Both of you have slightly uncomfortable smiles on your faces as Mingyu continues to fidget with his cables and equipment. It went smoother than you’d thought, silently thanking him for keeping it from getting awkward – more awkward than necessary anyway.

“These ones are gonna be basic studies, establishing the usual studio lights in the beginning before we move to the more experimental shots.” He drags his own stool forward to sit directly across from you in front of the plain white backdrop. “Did you bring another black top?”

“I did, do you want me to change?”

“Not yet.” He positions the camera higher, looking like he’s ready. “Okay, relax your body. Shoulders back, chin down. Okay, now a smile, really small, barely there.”

He snaps his first photo and you nearly knock yourself backwards on the stool, lights going off at the shot damn near blinding you.

“You good?”

“I thought the flash was just gonna be your camera.” You frown, coming round.

“Nah, you’ll get used to it. Okay, back in position.”

He takes a couple more pictures, urging you to make miniscule changes to your poses, whatever feels good. You find yourself loosening up, your posture aiding you instead of working against you. “Try putting your hands on the stool, yeah like that, lean forward. Chin up a little more.”

The directions continue from behind the camera as he continues to flash away, and you do your utmost to not let the lights disorient you too much. He lets you take a break when you make a comment about the pure thermal energy in the room, your face no doubt shiny and red from the lights. You’re done after you take a couple more pictures after an outfit change, rendering you free to leave within the hour.

“I think you’re done,” he announces, stretching as he leaves his own stool. “I’ll send you deets for tomorrow, we’ll probably get a lot more done.”

“Oh, cool.”

Gathering your stuff doesn’t take you as you go up to tell him you’re about to leave. You find him fiddling with cables, packing everything up before leaving himself. You make a split second decision, dropping your bag before announcing yourself.

“Let me help.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s fine. I just need to shove them in storage.”

“That’s alright, I’ll help. What d’you want me to do?”

“Uh, Maybe unplug all the ports, and um, turn the lights on too, I guess. It’s gonna get dark if you don’t.”

Cleaning up was easier when those god awful studio lights weren’t overheating the entire hall, collecting cables and putting equipment back into their places. It was over before you knew it.

“Is your car back from the workshop?” Mingyu yells from inside one of the side rooms collecting his stuff.

“Not yet, I’m getting it back on the 15th. Ordered a cab.”

“You’re going home from here, right?” He emerges from the room, arms in the middle of slipping into his jacket. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, it’s fine I have to meet Nayeon at uni and–”

“Even better, I was going there too. Come on, I just need to kill the lights.”

You’re out of saviours, evident as you slide into his car, yet again with no choice. It’s meant to be a short drive, considering the studio is barely ten minutes away from where you need to be, yet it feels like an impromptu road trip with the way the roads seem to stretch.

It’s significantly less awkward than last night, perhaps owed to him not being as inclined to make conversation, unlike last night.

By the time he’s pulling up, you already have your bag in hand, a thank you frozen on your tongue as you register who it is that’s standing outside the library. You groan internally as you see Nayeon waiting for you, immersed in something on her phone. Praying she stays occupied, you rush your, “thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow,” as you hope she doesn’t see you slip out of the familiar car.

She does notice. Looking up at the sound of yout door opening, she catches clear sight of you stepping out of the car, Mingyu in the driver’s seat. You can tell she’s subdued her reaction, but the eyebrows gives her away as they shoot up at the sight. Trudging up to her is a nightmare and a half, dreading the questions she’s going to ask as you hear Mingyu rev away.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathes out, eyes wide, mouth open in jest.

“Quit it, I have work to get done.” You choose to lead her straight into the library where you know she won’t be able to ask you any more probing questions.

That doesn’t seem to sedate her though as she continues to whisper a million questions, watching you pull your stuff out.

“I had a shoot with him today, he offered to drop me off and I couldn’t say no!”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims a little too loud, owing a couple nasty surrounding looks her way, including yours. She continues quieter, pulling your laptop away from you so you’d pay more attention to her. “How’d it go? Did you pose all sexy for him, did he look nervous?”

“I did not pose sexy, I posed normally, because I have a conscience,” you snap, yanking your laptop back from her grip.

She’s smiling like an idiot, unaffected by your annoyance. “Is he gonna drop you off after every shoot? Oh my god! Don’t you dare get your car from the garage, give it to Seokmin, or, or, tell them to keep it!”

“Nayeon, shush!” It’s your turn to whisper shout at her gradually increasing volume, pushing her to quit leaning over the desks.

“Okay, okay.” She sobers up.

“I’m supposed to be getting over him, why are you so happy about this? Indifference, remember? It was you who brought it up.”

“Yes, but you can’t tell me it doesn’t look, I don’t know, like, you know!”

Once she’s a little less giddy, you finally tell her about last night – leaving out the bit where he droppped you home for the sake of the library and its inhabitants.

“I mean, I know we aplogised and everything, but I felt a little less… on fire around him. Other than those stupid studio lights, those were turning the place into a sauna. But I could meet his eyes without hyperventilating,” you explain, eyes downcast as you speak.

“I imagine his eyes were covered with that camera anyway, but progress, I guess,” Nayeon comments.

“Maybe I needed to get mad at him to feel better, I don’t know. But it feels like I’m making progress for the first time.”

“I told you this would be good for you, give it a couple more weeks and it’ll be like Mingyu never happened.”

It takes a conscious attempt to not scoff. Like Mingyu never happened to your heart. That’s a heart you can’t recognise.

The first time Seokmin had brought girls over was a day you couldn’t forget, no matter how hard you tried.

You were padding down to the kitchen, still bleary eyed and pyjama clad from your nap, making a beeline for the fridge to get a glass of water. Your trip is cut short, however, when you realised the living room was not as empty as you expected. It’s a crowd (to your eleven year old self, anyway) of people your brother’s age. You catch a couple familiar faces, friends of your brother who visited often, Mingyu is part of the lumps on the couch with them.

What stumped you, however, were the girls that were seated in between, eyes equally trained on you as everyone else in the room.

“Oh, who’s this Seok?” one of the girls asked.

“My little sister. D’you wanna say hi?” he asked you, neck craned to look at you.

“Uh. Hi,” you whisper, gulping.

There’s a chorus of hi’s that came bounding at you. You could feel the embarrassment creep up your entire body, feeling conscious for the first time in your life. They were staring at you. They were smiling, but you hated it.

You weren’t thinking as you turned around to sprint back upstairs, not missing the tinkle of laughs coming from the living room.

“Oh, she’s cute,” you had heard. That had you nearly starting to cry.

You’d be lying if you said your little crush on Mingyu hadn’t started blossoming for a while at that point. Being younger meant you were constantly fighting to be seen, even more so when you’d do anything for Mingyu to look at you. Hogging your brother’s bean bag until you were kicked out, putting sparkly clips in your hair before you went to the kitchen, laughing especially loud when you knew he could hear.

And yet, despite everything, for the very first time, you hated that Mingyu was looking at you, watching you idle and awkward while he sat next to a bunch of prettier, older girls.

That night was of many firsts, including the first time you had ever cried over Mingyu.

Mingyu claimed this was the last shoot, that he’d be done after this final set of shots.

You’re having a hard time though, because he’s decided his studio for the day was gonna be at the top of a mountain at the asscrack of dawn.

“We have fifteen minutes,” he announces.

“To live?” You heave, crouching on the gravel to give your body a break.

“Till sunrise,” he interjects, reversing to get to your crouched figure. You feel him grab hold of the straps of your bag, swinging it over his own shoulder. “Come on, just a little more.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour.” You groan, picking yourself up off the path to resume your trudging. Mingyu stays next to you this time.

“Did you pack your entire house in here, the fuck is this so heavy for,” he grunts.

“You're the one asking for a bajillion outfit changes, I’m just doing what you asked.”

“One change of clothes and a compact doesn’t weigh this much, are you disposing a body up here?”

“Might be yours if I don't see that damn railing in a minute.”

“I think you're hungry,” he huffs out.

“I think I need to never agree to do this again.”

“Salavation!” he yelps as he sees a vending machine in the distance, quite literally glowing (with its fluorescent lights).

“I don’t need a water bottle, Mingyu, I need to lie down.” Your voice grows more gruff by the minute, legs nearly giving away.

“No, the vending machine means…” He bounds up the last couple leaps to the glowing box with a burst of motivation. The slope turns flat at the horizon. “We’re here.”

Nearly falling to your knees at the sight of the long awaited arrival point, you drop to a nearby bench and lay flat on the stiff wood.

“How long till I need to look presentable? Because if it’s anything under thirty minutes, I’m tapping out.” You declare.

“I can give you five minutes, take it or leave it.” He barely sits down as he speaks while already unzipping his camera bag. The thought of lifting your arms is excruciating, so you rest your tongue and bite back a whine.

By the time you do find it within yourself to swing your legs back over the bench, the sky is shifting to a smoky navy, urging you to hurry up as you dry your sweat. You’re cringing as you press powder on your unclean face, but power through the final touches as you stretch while standing up straight.

The first rays of sunlight are just coming through as Mingyu calibrates his lenses, trying to figure out the best shots in the limited time frame you have. You listen to him as he directs you where he wants you, contorting your face into something akin to faux serene. It’s near impossible when the frown has molded itself into your face after what you’ve put your body through today.

“Think happy thoughts.” Mingyu calls out from behind his camera.

“Oh, I’m thinking real happy thoughts. Like the ice cold shower I’m about to take when I get home. My clean bed that’s gonna be nice to me when I lay in it. The leftover pasta in the fridge. My moonpies.”

He has to bring his face away from the camera to throw his head back in a breathy laugh, smile as wide as it could go. It does things to you, but you ignore it.

The summit isn’t entirely empty, noting a few people leaning against the railings, rendering it mostly quiet. All the more jarring becomes Mingyu’s phone as it blares into the silence, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

He checks the caller ID only to silence it and slip it back into his pocket.

You don’t get to ask who it was calling him so early in the morning, but get your answer when he immediately announces he’s done with his shots. The sun is higher up at this point, casting a more even orange glow across all the eye could see.

You suppose he’s in a hurry to get home, seeing as he has someone waiting on him. “Should we leave then?”

He swings the camera strap around his neck, forearms on the railing as he admires the view. “Give it a couple more minutes, I need to mentally prepare myself for the next hour.”

It’s hard for you to deny that, so you let yourself place your head into your crossed arms over the railing, staring into the glow. It’s silent for a while as the rays hit your face, warming you more than you’d like. You don’t make any effort to move though, deciding to appreciate the view while it was here, doubting you’d ever make the trek up here again. Not willingly, at least.

There’s a camera shutter that goes off next to you and you find Mingyu fidgeting with his camera as he tries to begin packing it up. You would help, but you’ve found yourself refraining from touching anything when it comes to his actual camera setup, opting to watch as he disassembles his lenses and pushes buttons to power off.

By the time you're trudging down the path you’d come up from, it’s bright and sunny, rendering it warmer than before. Going down, however, is proving easier as you appreciate the reduced strain in your calves, letting the recent conversation take you to a smoother route.

“When d’you think your gonna be done editing?” You ask at some point, the thought occurring to you that you’d only seen a couple pictures that he’d taken so far, oweing to his disapproval showing you all the raws before editing.

“Kinda have to get them edited and annotated by the due date, so probably by the end of the month.”

“D’you think I could get the ones you edit?”

“Why? D’you wanna kickstart a portfolio?” he muses.

“I think it’s normal to ask for my pictures you took of me,” you grunt.

He laughs it off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll send them over.”

Mingyu doesn’t drop you off home this time, both of you slipping into your own cars at the base of the hiking trail, bidding your goodbyes. You’d gotten an earful from Nayeon for getting your car back from the garage so quickly, and while sitting in a car with him wasn’t so bad anymore, you choose to retain that distance regardless. This was work, You’re doing this because you have to, and the stupid extra credit that roped you into this in the first place.

Alas, as you start your engine, eyes cast towards Mingyu’s number plate right up front, you can’t help but feel…sad… remembering this was your last shoot. As emotionally vexing the experience was, you had grown to look forward to his discreet location pins and outfit plans, growing more comfortable with him by the meeting.

It almost felt like you and Mingyu were friends.

Your brother’s graduation was an ordeal to say the least. Your parents flying in was a plus, getting to see them at least once for the summer, even if it was just for the day.

The night is wrapped up fairly quickly, a big dinner with yours and Mingyu’s family to congratulate the freed graduates from their academic shackles. It dials back when Mingyu announces he’s gonna take a summer course for now to keep himself busy, wanting to wait a little before job hunting. Seokmin seems to express the same, wanting some time off for himself before entering the corporate world.

It’s when you get home and your brother is sending you all the pictures of today that you note one that stands out. It was of you and Mingyu, an inevitable one as your parents took turns to make sure everybody got solo shots with everyone.

You’d applaud the enthusiasm, but it was particularly unfortunate for you when the camera was thrust into your hands as Mingyu and Jia posed for nearly fifty pictures. You wouldn’t mind usually, but it just felt like a little too much in the moment.

Despite everything, you find yourself clicking on the Save button on the picture where you’re smiling a little too wide right next to him, for the sake of yourself.

Summer break rolls around with no more hiccups, if you’d count finals as anything other than strenuous. You were happy, with a new job to keep you company for the next three months as you lament not being able to go home.

Getting the job at the bookstore was easy, your shifts were reasonable and it didn’t pay half bad. You would’ve guessed they were desperate for a hire, but you appreciate the activity regardless. It’s not really hard work, you find out quickly. Manning the desk, shelving deposits and restocking supplies. Monotonous tasks yet ones that you find yourself slipping into quite easily.

After the last shoot at the mountain, it was basically radio silence from Mingyu. Not being able to catch him the rare chance he stopped by the house, both of you swamped with the end of semester throw up. You doubt he’d noticed, and you despair at the fact that you did, even if it was just a little.

“Oh, great, you’re here!” The owner greets you as you walk into the store, all smiles. She was a sweet lady, nicer than any other boss you’d ever had. “Was just waiting for you so I could leave, my daughter has a play she’s putting on today!”

“Oh, sorry to keep you!” You rush to set your bag down as she picks up her own things, coming around from the table to take her leave. “Hope the recital goes well, tell her I said good luck.”

“Will do.” She smiles before adding, “Oh and, somebody called an hour ago asking about our book bundles, he said he’d come in to check but he hasn’t yet. Thought I’d let you know in case he asks about the phone call.”

“Got it,” you confirm, waving as she walks out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Breathing out a sigh, you find yourself relatively free this afternoon, a slow weekday as you pick your current read out of your bag to get comfortable for the long shift. You’re nearly through the halfway point when you hear the first jingle of the day, the bells attached to the door making their familiar chime

“Good afternoon!” You look up to greet the customer, dog earring your book before standing up from your seat.

The person who’d walked in wasn’t just any customer, you soon realise as you recognise the familiar shag of hair. Mingyu was here.

“Oh.” You can’t help but let it out when you register him, his own eyebrows shooting up at the sight of you behind the counter. Your next greeting comes out a little dumbly. “Hi.”

“Hey. What’re you doing here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he takes you in.

“Um,” you glance at your obvious name tag. “I work here.”

“Oh, right, Seok mentioned you started working at a bookstore.” He throws his head back at the memory. “Hey, was it you over the phone earlier today? Didn’t sound like it.”

“Oh no, that was my boss, my shift started like an hour ago.” You confirm.

“Ah, I see.”

The silence is awkward for about five seconds before you jump into action. “You asked about a bundle over the phone?”

“Right, um,” he pauses to fish his phone out his pocket, scrolling for something. “It’s Jia’s birthday coming up, and there’s this book series she’s been wanting. Here.”

You need to remind yourself to pat yourself on the back for not shaking as you received his phone, mind remaining in the moment. “Oh yeah, we have those. Let me grab ‘em for you.”

He follows you through the columns of shelves as you navigate to find what he was looking for, stopping in front of the shelves. “There’s three of these, I can put them in a sleeve for you. Probably put a bow on it too if you want.”

“Okay, perfect. Do you guys have LP’s too?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Hold on, let me put these up front.”

You lead him to the back of the store. “The selection’s pretty small, the first shipment only came in like a month ago. I’m not sure if you’ll find what you want here.”

“She’s been talking about getting more LP’s after she got a new record player. Hasn’t mentioned anything she wants though,” he voices, thumbing through the selection.

“What does she listen to normally?” You ask before quickly adding, “So I can, maybe, help pick something she’d like.”

“Uh, older stuff? I should’ve snooped before coming, fuck.” He mumbles, thinking hard. “She barely plays it when I’m around but most of her LP’s are like Frank Sinatra and…Duran Duran was it?”

“Hm…” You hum as you flick through the dated section of the stockpile, “How’s this?’

He’s taking a look at the record you’ve handed him, scanning the tracklists on the back. “I’ll get this, I guess. I can always bring her around to get more that she likes.”

“D’you want a bow on this?” You ask, referring to the books you’re putting into the set sleeve, “You can pick your colour.”

He’s quick to pick the lilac ribbon, watching you as you tape it prettily on the box. You’re trying to curl the ribbon at the ends when he tries to make conversation.

“When does your shift end?”

If the man wasn’t quite literally buying a birthday present for his girlfriend (or if you had any memory of your own birthday), you’d think he was trying to hit on you. But he’s not. You know that.

“Ten-ish. Closing’s on me so I could technically leave an hour early and no one would know.” You snort.

“Everyday?” he asks incredulously.

“Minus weekends, the family takes care of that. They just need someone for afternoons and evenings on the weekdays. It’s not like I’m taking summer classes or anything, and it’s easy work.”

“Well, you’ll be pleased to find out you’ll most likely be available on the 27th of August, then.” He sing songs as he fishes his phone out to pay, a cheeky air in his expression.

You blink at him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. “Was I supposed to get that?”

He pushes his shoulders back, content expression on his face as he continues. “There’s a cultural art exhibition in two months, and I, have just found out I’ve been shortlisted for a spot.”

“A spot? Like to display your photos?!” You drop the card machine with a thud.

“Your photos. Prof liked the project so much she submitted some of ‘em as entries. It was super short notice, but they liked them, I guess.” His grin is wide, one that you find impossible to not reciprocate. “I just need you to sign a consent form and I’ll be all set to start prepping.”

“That’s insane, Mingyu, congratulations!” You exclaim, genuinely excited. “Are you gonna be using the same pictures?”

“Yup, I just need to fix the editing with my prof before they go up. You’re the first to find out, I just got out of the meeting.”

There’s a mix of hesitation before you utter your next proposal, a split second of bewilderment at what you were about to suggest. “Come over tonight, we can celebrate with Seok. Bring Jia along too, we can celebrate an early birthday.”

“I’ll see, she might be taking a bus home tonight for the weekend, might have to bother you by myself.”

The ache in your cheeks didn’t stop until well after Mingyu had left with his cargo, the elated feeling remaining for even longer after the fact. There was a point where it took you convincing to rid yourself of another intrusive, uneasy feeling, like you were taking a step back by being happy at his announcement.

It was, however, safe to call Mingyu a friend. Safe to be happy for him. Safe to have your heart swell at his achievement, having watched him work hard for it.

It was safe to feel.

This was horrible.

Truly.

You were trying to ignore it, the strange thumping noises coming from under your car, like it would go away if you pretended to not hear. There was a sliver of hope for you, barely five minutes away from home that you’d make it before your tire decided it had enough of trying to grab your attention.

But then it started screeching, and you had to stop before you caused a road fire.

“Tire? Didn’t you get them changed like last month?” Seokmin asks over the phone.

“Didn’t know new tires were immune to industrial blades, too. Are you gonna tell me I got ripped off?”

“Mingyu has a scissor jack, I’ll tell him to come to you.”

“Wait! You have a scissor jack, too! Why can’t you come?” You sputter at the sound, glancing at the 21:42 on the dial.

“He has my scissor jack, he’ll change it for you.” He grits back. “Besides, I’m not letting this face pack go to waste I just put it on.”

“Seok!”

“Stay in the car, lock the doors till he gets there.” He grounds.

“Seokmin!”

Beep.

The bastard hung up.

“Ugh!” you break from a tightened jaw, slamming the car door shut with passion as you huff into your seat, waiting for Mingyu.

Was Mingyu busy at 10:30 PM on a weekday? He was, actually.

He’d scrambled to finish up the last of his meeting with his professor, wrapped up in planning for the exhibition despite the two month time frame he’d been given. Exhibitions were a lot of paperwork, as he was finding out as he sweet talks Jia over the phone, promising to be with her within the next five minutes. Well, ten maybe, he has to grab butter from the store.

She sits on the kitchen counter as Mingyu makes her favourite. A strenuous task, but he’s willing to go through the double frying to make up for the time he’s lost. It’s not until he’s doing the post dinner dishes while Jia’s picking a movie in the living room that he’s met with another dilemma to handle.

He’s deflating as he stands, phone to ear as he listens to Seokmin about your situation. Glancing at the near 10:30 PM hand on the clock, he finds it difficult to refuse, especially when he’s told you’re alone and stranded on a highway. He thinks to Jia in the living room as he tells Seokmin he’s leaving the house to get to you.

He’d only be gone for barely 20 minutes. He’s changed plenty of tires, this should be quick and easy.

Slipping into the living room is easy, wrapping his arms around Jia from behind is even easier. It’s when he has to open his mouth that he begins to falter. Twenty minutes, he reminds himself.

“I have two I’ve heard are really good, you can pick which one we watch first,” she voices as she fluffs the pillows on the couch, ready to tuck in for the rest of the night.

“Babe?”

She spins around in his arms, coming up to fluff his flat hair too. “Hm?”

“Seok just called…”

Her face falls as he talks despite his best attempts to assure her he won’t be long.

“Twenty minutes?” she parrots, wanting his word.

“Fifteen.”

Whether Mingyu would keep his word is something he’d find out, but you had kept your word to Seokmin, staying in the car, doors locked till you saw Mingyu’s car pull up behind you in the rearview. The wretched scissor jack that’s caused all of this sits in his own boot as he yanks it out to bring it over to your car, where you stand arms crossed, face dejected.

“Were you waiting long?” He asks as he immediately crouches to fit the jack where he wants it.

“No, not really,” you reply. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here, if only Seok remembered to take the stupid scissor jack–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I wasn’t doing anything.” Lies. But you already sounded apologetic and he didn’t wanna hear you apologize any further.

“No, it’s not okay. The idiot’s relaxing with a stupid face mask on while you have to come out here and change a fucking tire, God, you have class tomorrow too, don’t you?”

“Not until the afternoon, I’m in the clear.” He springs up from his crouched position, pulling the jack with him. “Open the boot.”

Placing the scissor jack in your boot, he continues, a little breathless. “There, I’ll tell Seokmin I left it in your car. Or, you could do that.”

“Thanks, Mingyu. Really.”

He does nothing but flash a smile, doing his best to convince you you weren’t an inconvenience before having to see your apologetic face again. “Alright, I wanna see you drive off before I leave, go on.”

By the time Mingyu’s slamming the door of the house shut, it’s eighteen minutes on the dot. Jia doesn’t say much, excited to have him back in her arms.

“Wait!” he suddenly yelps, once he’s tucked in with her.

“What now?” she groans.

Mingyu’s bounding back to his bedroom, emerging a few moments later with a dark paper bag. He goes back to sit next to her on the couch, sliding the bag and its contents towards her.

“Here. We’re not gonna be together for your birthday, might as well give you your present the night before you leave.” His eyes are glinting, hopeful.

Jia expresses her thank you’s commenting on the ribbon and his LP choice, grinning widely.

Your name comes tumbling out of Mingyu’s mouth before he can stop himself. “She helped me pick it out!”

“You…took her with you?” She asks after a moment.

“She worked at the store! I didn’t know till I went there either.” Mingyu’s voice grows increasingly enthusiastic, seemingly unaware that his girlfriend was growing slightly irritated. “I’ll take you there when you get back, the selection’s small but she’ll probably help you pick out something you’d like. I only had to give her like two names before she figured it out.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she comments, tight smile on her lips as she collects the book sleeve and the LP, placing them back into the bag and leaving them on the floor next to her.

Mingyu is blissfully unaware of the fuel he’s added to growing embers, munching away on his popcorn, eyes trained on the TV and its stimulating colours.

“I was talking to Jihyo the other day, super random but it came up while we were talking about you,” Jia starts experimentally.

“Huh?” He has her attention. And when she mentions your name, the part of him that’s always wondered when she’d bring it up comes out of dormancy.

“She said she…I don’t know, she said she liked you at some point, Like a lot, and for a while.” Jia sounds unsure, like she didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring you up.

Mingyu sighs as he rears himself for the inevitable conversation. “It’s—well, it was—just puppy love. I was around all the time and I guess she latched, I don’t know.”

Jia pauses, eyes remanging trained on the movie. “Does it make you uncomfy? That she liked you? Maybe she still does.”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m around Seok which means I’m sometimes around her by default. Can’t help it. I mean, the photography thing kinda just happened but, I don’t really care. And she seems over it.”

Mingyu is rambling. He can feel it. Which is why he tries to end the conversation right there, tone nonchalant as he hopes the topic breezes past.

It doesn’t.

“You seemed pretty adamant in leaving, though.”

“Huh?”

“When she called just now.”

“Seok called, I had his scissor jack!”

“Why couldn’t he have grabbed it for you and helped his sister himself? He has a car too.” Jia’s paused the movie at this point, moving away from his arm she was leaning on, shifting to look at him fully.

“It would’ve taken him forever, she was alone in the middle of a highway at nearly eleven, you wanted me to leave her there?” Mingyu finds the conversation ridiculous, and it shows in the irritation that rises in his own voice.

“Mingyu, you can’t be upset with me right now,” she breathes out exasperated.

“I’m not? I get that you’re upset, I haven’t been around as much but you also know what this exhibition means to me. I need to put everything I have into this and it’s only for a couple months–”

“Mingyu, it’s not just the exhibition!”

“Jia, I can’t know if you don’t tell me what’s really bothering you, talk to me.” Mingyu’s begging at this point, wondering how it’s come to this in the first place.

“You can’t expect me to be okay with you going around wherever, whenever, when I know what kind of lifestyle you’ve come out of not even six months ago!”

Mingyu had come a long way from his galvanizing tendencies, doing absolutely everything he could to convince Jia he was serious about her. Unfortunately, this was not the first time his past had been brought up; in an argument or in a light hearted setting, and he wasn’t particularly fond of it.

“Are we in six months ago? Are you saying I’ve done nothing substantial for you to think I’m still fucking around? Either give me an instance or figure out what the real issue is!”

There’s a plaster of suffocation in the room, neither soul speaking a word. Until Jia finally speaks. “I wanna go home.”

It didn’t matter to Mingyu if she was expecting him to grovel, to ask her to stay and talk about this further. It was clear she wasn’t about to talk about anything pertinent at all, and definitely not tonight. He was tired, and frankly wanted to be alone right now.

“Fine.”

Silence penetrates all of his air for the entire car ride up until he’s entering his apartment for the third time that day. Not bothering to clean up the living room, he thinks he does himself a service so as to not be reminded of the past couple hours. He’s casting the place in complete darkness before moving to his room. Might as well get some work done.

There’s a conscious effort to not start slamming things, he succeeds mostly, his graphic tablet receiving the short end of the stick. Turning on his monitor, he’s met with his ongoing project still brought up on the screen.

It’s a picture of you. One he took in a greenhouse off the outskirts of the city, something you complained about extensively as the heat ruined both your mood and your hair. You were smiling regardless; a wide, happy smile as you looked into the camera, petunia’s and dahlia’s framing an illusion around your figure.

Mingyu feels the tension in his muscles begin to relax, his breathing evening out after what felt like hours. He becomes almost excited to pick up his stylus and work on the photo, the set up allowing him to dive right in. There was barely any work left, moving on as he finishes the photo and saves it.

It isn’t until he happens to click on the the last folder, the one where you both caught the sunrise after a strenuous hike. He can’t help but break into a hint of a smile at the memory of your broken figure at the pathway, cursing him for bringing you here so early in the morning. The pictures had come out good, especially when Mingyu opens a particular photo at the bottom of the folder, an extra from his initial round of editing for his actual project.

It’s of you (of course) with your chin tucked into your arms as you gaze at the scene from up above, beyond the railing. The sun is up higher at that point, but the cast remains as the top half of your face that wasn’t tucked in your arms is lit in an orange glow, eyes glistening like stars during the day, wide and beautiful.

Mingyu remembers the shot. It was an accident.

In an attempt to fiddle with the settings to turn off the camera, he ended up snapping a picture instead. The distinct click was noticed, never bothering to check what came out of it when he stuffed his camera back into his bag, nor when he sifted through his SD card.

It was like he was seeing the picture in a new light, and the potential it had to become something worth ogling at. He wonders what had come over him when he had placed the photo as a secondary option without another thought, lamenting at what could’ve been his actual final piece.

He stares and stares, attempting to draw maps of color rendering in his mind, yet all that comes up is his eyes zeroing in on your own. How they glisten. How they sparkle.

Part 2

#mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu smut #mingyu fic #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu angst #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen imagines #svt #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut

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springseasonie · 1 year

Text

the walls are thin | NJM + LJN (M)

Roommate Jeno x fem reader x Roommate Jaemin

Summary: both Jaemin and Jeno have always had a thing for you and were never shy about it either. You always play hard to get, but all of your playing was going to catch up with you sooner or later.

Warnings: sexual content, dubcon themes, porn with little plot, horrifically Jaemin biased (it just happened that way), unprotected sex, kitchen sex, oral (male and fem receiving), degrading, praising, voyeurism, exhibitionism (if you squint), snowballing, mean dom jeno, soft dom Jaemin, literally just filth, proofread but may still contain errors

Word count: 7,4k

A/N: I had a completely different idea for this pairing, but I didn't like here it was going so I completely scrapped it and came up with this. Hope y'all like it it's my first time writing a 3some dynamic so be patient with me lol. Also I wanna try a new picture situation for fics soooo yeah idk if I'll be doing it for long. Probably just for multiple members fics. Pics aren't mine. Feedback is welcomed as always this was long overdue I was supposed to post this days ago

The walls are pretty thin in your apartment, which is why you're so grateful when everyone is gone. You can't escape the constant sounds of your roommates laughing, talking, doing God knows what. You enjoy the peace and quiet, especially at night. The only drawback is that there is virtually no privacy.

You can't count the amount of times both Jeno and Jaemin asked you about conversations you had with people on the phone the night before. It always left you a bit shocked and freaked out. They never told you how much they heard or knew, just that they heard you. And on mornings like this - ones where you wake up groggy from getting yourself off - they never skip a beat to tell you they heard you.

"You're really loud at night you know," Jaemin said, pouring milk in his cereal.

"What are you talking about?" You yawned, covering your mouth with your hand. It's a Saturday, which means you have nothing but time to spare.

"When you're touching yourself. You should do a better job at keeping quiet," Jeno answered as he walked into the kitchen.

"Why were you listening?" Your tone was monotonous, still trying to fully wake up from your sleep. Nothing they said had any impact on you anymore. Their non-stop flirting and crude comments don't make you cringe and squirm like they used to, completely used to whatever games they were constantly trying to play.

"I didn't have a choice," Jaemin said, mouth full of cereal.

"We always have choices in life." You leaned on the edge of the counter, crossing your arms. Jeno brushed his hair back, biceps bulging in his right long sleeve top. It was no secret that even though you kept turning them down, they were eye candy. When you told your friends about them, they wondered how you were going to live with 2 men that looked like they were meant to be male strippers.

It's easy for you, really. Just get to know them. Getting to know people always helps get rid of the initial attraction, and they definitely made it easy. Except it came back 10 times stronger. And you really didn't mean for it to happen really, it just happened, and you're annoyed that it happened. But is it really your fault?

"Just how you made a choice to come out completely naked," Jeno questioned, looking you up and down.

"I'm wearing a tank top and shorts. Be serious." You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. You turned around, reaching up to get a bowl only to be pressed against the counter again

"Let me help you out," Jeno said in your ear. He pressed himself against you, pushing his bulge into your ass. Jeno grabbed the bowl out of your hand, setting it down in front of you with the sweetest smile. "And I meant in other ways that don't involve getting bowls from cabinets."

Jeno backed away from you, and for the first time you can confidently say you didn't want him to move. But he'll never know that. Neither of them will ever know the effect they have on you for as long as you're in the same household. But sometimes you really wonder if it's worth it, not letting them touch you in the ways you want. Not letting them do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. It didn't really matter anyways, they're just 2 people out of the 8 billion on the planet.

"You are so spoiled you know that."

You jump, surprised at the sound of Jaemin's voice near your ear. You forgot he was still in the kitchen being lost in thought about Jeno's body pressed against yours. "What do you mean by that?"

"You have 2 guys constantly trying to fuck you, and you keep refusing," he says, chuckling softly. "It's honestly annoying."

You rolled your eyes pouring cereal in your bowl. "Then stop. I keep refusing and you keep coming back."

"But I like the chase."

You turned around, immediately being faced with Jaemin's eyes being directly on your tits. His gaze made you feel small sometimes, always looking at you like you were a piece of meat. But you liked the way he looked at you. They way his gaze would linger, never shy to tell you exactly what he wanted with no words.

"All men like chasing," you replied, pouring the milk in your bowl.

"Not as much as me. When I catch you, you'll be wishing I didn't," he mumbled.

"You're funny."

"I've been told. And I tend to laugh women right out of their clothes." His witty responses never fail to amaze you. He always had a response for everything, never speechless although sometimes you wish he was.

You turned around, leaning on the counter as you shoved a spoon full of cereal in your mouth. "You know," you started, "sometimes I wish the 2 of you were man enough to do something."

Jaemin raised his brow, crossing his arms. "Is that some kind of challenge?"

"No, just a thought. I'm going to my room." You walked out the kitchen and down the tiny hallway, already hearing Jeno's music through the walls. You wish you weren't so evil, but there would be no fun in your life. Because as much as you tell them to stop, you just want them to keep telling you over and over again how much they want it, how much they need you.

"If you ever need help, remember I'm next door," Jaemin called out behind you.

"Never gonna happen."

"Fuck, come on!"

You've been playing video games since your conversation with Jaemin ended, and honestly you wish you hadn't even started. You've been doing nothing but yelling at your screen and pounding your desk. And you just so happened to get knocked out again.

"I can't take this shit anymore," you groaned, cradling your head in your arms. Just as you were about to throw your headset off, you heard a knock on your door. "Come in."

Jaemin walked in, face puffy like he just woke up from a nap. But you couldn't even keep looking at his face, not when he was wearing that one shirt that made him look bigger than he already was. And- oh. He wasn't wearing anything under his basketball shorts, was he?

"You're too loud." His voice was deep and groggy, the sound of it going straight to your core.

"Sorry. This game is just-"

"Annoying? I've heard you say that millions of times already. Just stop playing it." Jaemin leaned on your door frame, shaking his hair from his face. It was taking everything in you to not say what you wanted to. He's attractive and he knows it. He knows what he does to you and it drives you insane. "Just keep it down okay?" Jaemin turns on his heels, walking out of your room, door knob in his hand.

"I'll try. You know how I get when I'm stressed."

Stressed. That was all he heard. "You're stressed?"

"Yeah, just a little," you admit.

"Let me help you," he said, coming back into your room.

You turned around in your chair, raising your brow at his statement. "And how would you do that?"

Jaemin walked up to you, looking down at you with sleepy and lustful eyes. Silence filling the space between you. He needed you, even when he felt like he was gonna pass out. And he would take any chance to get you, only if you would let him. "Let me give you the best head in your life."

The request shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the slight twitch of your right leg whenever you were turned on would always betray you. You scanned his face, eyes moving down his body. "Are you hard?"

"Yeah," he answered honestly. "But you don't have to do anything. I promise."

"I wasn't planning on it," you answered, turning around.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask me a question."

"Can I please eat you out," Jaemin repeated as if he was sounding out a word. You could hear the smile in his voice, knowing that if you turned back around, he would be looking at you with that shit eating grin he always does to get his way.

"I doubt you could find the clit, let alone make me cum."

Jaemin snickered at your statement, turning your chair around to face him. "Wanna bet?"

"I'm not letting you anywhere near her, especially not when Jeno's in the other room," you deny.

"Jeno would sleep through a war if he could. I think we'll be okay."

Jaemin smiled to himself watching you turn your chair back around to face your monitor.

"You know that's a lie, and I said what I said." You felt a small piece of you die inside when Jaemin crawled under your desk, face directly in between your legs. He couldn't help himself, and he knew there would only be so many times you pushed him away. But you're so predictable, it's almost funny. You love his sleepy voice and his puffy face, and the only reason he knows this is because you can't speak quietly on the phone.

He would listen to your conversations, listen to the way you talked about him, the things you said about him to your friends. He knows you're two faced, telling him one thing and saying another to other people. Jaemin doesn't know if it's a mistake, especially because you out of all people know how thin the walls are, but he doesn't care.

Jaemin pushed your legs open, half lidded eyes staring at your clothed cunt. "I swear you wore these just to provoke me," he mumbled.

"J-Jaemin wait.." you were completely overwhelmed, a little taken back with how fast things were moving. But the way his hands traveled from your legs to your ass was almost enough to make you forget the kind of game you were playing with him.

Jaemin pulled you closer to him, hands gripping you as he buried his face between your legs. "God, you smell so fucking good," he said, inhaling deeply. "I bet you taste even better."

At this point, you were sure Jeno could hear every word coming out his mouth. It shouldn't have turned you on so much, but it did. Was he listening? Is he jealous, mad it's Jaemin who got to you first? Was he touching himself to the thought of you? You wanted to see. You wanted to hear him. You wanted-

"Stop thinking about him." He practically growled.

You gulped, brows shooting to your forehead. "W-what?"

"I know you're wondering if he's really sleeping, if he can hear you." Jaemin's nose nudged on your clothed bud making you gasp softly. "You don't have to wonder. These walls are paper thin."

You didn't protest when he pulled your shorts and panties to your ankles, brian too preoccupied with the fact that you were about to get eaten out after a long time. But even in these circumstances, you couldn't pause your shit talking. "Still don't think you can make me cum."

Jaemin let out a soft chuckle. He didn't answer you or say anything, just pulled you to the edge of your seat and attached his mouth to your core like a moth to a flame. His tongue moved slowly at first, lapping at all your arousal. His nose nudged against your clit, making you shudder as you let out a soft sigh. But you can't give him the satisfaction yet, so you hold it back. You don't look down at him, you do anything to distract yourself from the man between your legs.

Jaemin doesn't care about your attempts to ignore him, all he cares about is proving you wrong like he always does. His thumbs massage the insides of your thighs as he grips your legs tight savoring every feel of the soft flesh. The speed of Jaemin’s tongue quickened as his eyes trailed up your body, his nose continuously nudging your clit. He can hear how much you're trying to stifle your moans not wanting him to know how much you like it.

"Let me hear you."

You kept your mouth closed, biting your lip hard as he continued licking at you. But when he directed his attention to your clit, a reluctant whine escaped your lips. You could feel Jaemin smile against your skin, knowing that you already lost the game you were trying so hard to win. You peeked under your desk for a millisecond only to make direct eye contact with him as he sucked your clit softly. He sucked harder, making you roll your eyes back at the sudden sensation.

"It feels good, doesn't it?"

You still didn't answer, closing your eyes to avoid meeting his own. Jaemin flicked his tongue against you faster than before. You were way too sensitive at this point, every movement he made pulling you closer and closer to an orgasm. But you couldn't cum just yet, not when that was the only thing you were fighting to not do. But god, it just felt so good, too good.

"If you're gonna ignore me, I'm gonna stop," he said.

"N-no." That was the first thing you said in a while. You couldn't believe it, but you needed him to keep going. You wanted him to keep going. Haven't felt the touch of a man in months, this felt like heaven.

"Then say it," he said.

"Say what?"

"What do you want me to do?

"Keep..eating me out.. obviously."

Jaemin chuckled, running his fingertips along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm already doing that. Tell me what you want me to do Y/N."

His tone was softer, less demanding than before. And now you knew what he was getting at. You knew what he wanted you to say, but you didn't want to give into him too easily. But you needed this so bad. "Make me cum," you answer quietly, voice trembling slightly.

"Say that again. I don't think Jeno heard you clear enough," he teased. You shook your head, refusing to speak. He placed a kiss on your clit, laughing softly when you let out a small sigh. "Are you a good girl?"

Reluctantly, you nodded your head, heat rushing to your face.

"Then say it again."

"Make me cum."

"Of course. Anything for you." Jaemin went at you like a starved man, licking and sucking and kissing every part of you, not leaving a single area untouched. You couldn't force yourself to stay quiet, not when only his tongue was working such wonders on you. Your hands naturally made their way to his hair, pushing it back to see his face better. Jaemin's eyes stared right into yours, eyes blown with lust.

"J-Jaemin," you whimpered softly as he flicked his tongue fast on your sensitive bud. He moaned, licking and slurping up your arousal while pulling your body closer to his. At this point, your hips were starting to fall off the edge of the seat. "I-I'm gonna fall, Jaemin."

Jaemin swiftly adjusted you on your seat, mouth never leaving you. He looked up at you, lids low. The sounds filing the room were sinful, the slurping sounds coupled with both of your moans making your head spin. Your hands tugged at his hair softly at every movement of his tongue.

"I bet you need something in you, don't you?" Jaemin's voice went from your ears right to your cunt. He smiled to himself watching you squeeze around nothing, desperate for anything. "How do my fingers sound?"

"Good Jaemin, fuck," you sighed, almost a little too quickly.

"Someone's a little excited," he laughed. "A little too excited for someone who told me I couldn't make her cum."

Jaemin lined two fingers up, pushing them into you slowly. You could almost cry at the feeling, so sensitive anything could send you over the edge. "M-more," you begged.

Jaemin raised a brow, wicked smile on his lips. "You want another one?"

"Please.."

Jaemin added a third finger, pumping them slowly. Sometimes, he's grateful that he loves giving pleasure, especially because of moments like this. You were so pretty above him, moaning out his name and practically melting in front of him. Your hard, stubborn exterior practically shattered as soon as he put his hands on you. It's funny how fast he got you to beg for him even though he knew how bad you wanted it already.

Jaemin licked at your clit while pumping his fingers inside you with a mission, a look of pure bliss spread over your face. "You're so pretty," he breathed out. "I always thought you were pretty."

You couldn't say anything, especially not when he started to finger you faster and his tongue slowed, arousal leaking all over your gaming chair. Your moans and whimpers started to grow in volume. There was no way you could stay quiet enough for Jeno not to hear now. Jaemin sucked your clit hard, making you groan loudly, tugging at his hair. "Jaemin you're gonna make me cum," you whimpered.

"I thought I couldn't." He pumped his fingers in and out quicker, grinning as you came closer and closer. "Maybe I should stop."

"J-Jaemin do not f-fuckin stop." You're brows knit, breath increasing every time he pumped his fingers in and out of you. A tight ball formed in your stomach, muscles beginning to tense under his touch. Jaemin gave your clit one hard lick, making you fall apart instantly. You came on his fingers, clenching on them tightly as you let out a shaky moan.

"That's it, let it out," he cooed. "You did so well for me Y/N."

Jaemin took his fingers out of you, sucking them while staring into your eyes. Your hazy expression was making him go crazy, and he knew he shouldn't keep going but he really couldn't help himself.

Jaemin threw your legs over his shoulders, latching his arms over them before you could move away. "This will be quick okay."

You whined when his tongue came in contact with you again, wiggling its way in your core. Jaemin moaned softly, tasting your cum on his tongue. Your weak pushes at his head were cute, so cute that he had to keep going.

"Jaemin please," you whined,"I..I can't.."

He kept staring at you, not intending to move away or stop. "Be a good girl and cum for me." His tongue was attacking your clit at this point, moving over the bud too fast for you to keep up. Jaemin's grip was so strong you couldn't even squirm away from the chair if you wanted to. He sucked hard, the feeling shooting through your body making your hands and legs weak.

Your body trembled when you came again, soft cries of curses spilling from your lips. And Jaemin still didn't stop. He licked up every single drop, not wanting to waste a bit. He didn't know when you were going to let him do this again even though he knew you would come back to him eventually. At this point, he was pretty sure he was addicted to the taste of you, scent of you, just you.

Jaemin finally loosened the grip on your legs, letting them fall off his shoulders. The both of you were breathing heavily since the adrenaline was still rushing. He didn't say anything and neither did you even when he came from under the table. Jaemin stood up, large figure looking over you as you tried to catch your breath.

"I'm going in my room," he said,"I'll..see you later."

You let him leave, not saying a word as you slumped in your seat. You were never going to live this moment down, letting him go down on you like that. And practically control you. And now that he's away, you're going to have to be tortured with hearing him touch himself in the next room over.

But all you could really say at the moment was that it in fact was the best head of your life.

It'd been 3 days since Jaemin completely overpowered you, beating you at your own game. And being forced to watch him go on with his day like nothing happened was driving you crazy, especially when he kept dropping little references of the events.

What's even worse is Jeno pretending he didn't hear anything. Pretending you weren't practically screaming Jaemin's name 3 days ago. But he did keep staring at you and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You never could. Jeno was always good at hiding it until he wanted you to know.

And now you're alone in your apartment with him while Jaemin is at work for the night. The last thing you wanted to be was alone with Jeno, especially when he was in a bad mood like now.

You walked into the kitchen wanting to get something to eat without disturbance, but Jeno was already there. You looked at him, body leaning against the counter with his head in his hand. You and Jeno hadn't really had an actual conversation in 3 days. You were a bit afraid of him saying something that would remind you of the sinful things that took place in your room.

You walked past him, not really paying him any mind, but you could still feel his eyes on your back. And just as you were about to reach into the cabinet, he said something you were definitely not expecting.

"You're such a bitch."

You turned around, brow raised so high it could probably hit the roof. "I'm a what now?"

"You're a bitch," he repeated. Jeno looked at you with a straight face. There was nothing in his body language that suggested that he was doing this to mess with you. He was dead serious.

You squint your eyes, scoffing at his words. "Don't call me a bitch."

Jeno gave you a dry laugh, taking his hand from his face. "You don't think it's bitchy to have sex with your roommate when your other roommate was in the other room?"

"Are you mad it wasn't you," you snapped. You watched as Jeno lifted his body off the counter and walked to you slowly. He placed his arm beside your body, leaning close over yours, a dark smirk written across his face.

"I'm just surprised you gave into him so easily seeing that you deny me all the time." He couldn't keep eye contact with you, especially not when you were in the kitchen in nothing but leggings and that goddamn tank top. The white one you constantly wore with nothing underneath. You knew exactly what you were doing, and that's something Jeno always found attractive about you.

"My eyes are up here," you said, lifting his chin to look at you.

Jeno clicked his tongue annoyed. "You always try to put on this tough act, and it's really annoying."

"Can't be as annoying as this conversation."

"Then walk away, unless you wanna keep having this conversation," he said. You hesitated to move, making Jeno laugh. He pulled you back, pushing you on the counter.

"I was walking away," you said, trying to sound completely unphased when you were completely turned on by it.

"You just love playing hard to get, don't you," he mumbled, leaning into your neck. "You love it when we chase. Don't lie." You didn't speak, you just let him kiss your neck softly. He pressed his body against yours, parting your legs with his knee. Jeno wraps a hand around your neck, chuckling softly when your breath hitches. "I can't believe I was letting you walk around here like this without touching you," he mumbled.

Jenos other hand made its way to your ass, groping you roughly. He watched your face, taking in the slight pleasure you felt being at his mercy. Jeno tightened the hold on your neck slightly, earning a soft gasp from you.

"If you're gonna do something, do it," you grumbled.

"What if I wanna take my time with you hm? I bet you'd like that. I mean, you did 3 days ago," he teased. Jeno moved his hand from your ass to between your legs, rubbing you through your leggings. His brow arched at the sticky wet sensation covering his fingers through the fabric. "You aren't even wearing panties. It's like you came in here with the intention of me fucking you."

With one quick movement, Jeno's hand was in your leggings, rubbing you in circles slowly. "It's just funny that you're so quiet now. Make all those pretty noises you made for pretty boy." Jeno pressed his fingers harder into you. He watched as you began to lose yourself with that sweet sinister smile of his. You didn't stop him when he pulled your tank top up, immediately groping your left breast. "God I love these pretty tits."

Your panting was only getting faster, his hand on your clit rubbing you faster while fondling your breast, you could barely hear anything he was saying. You were gonna cum quick, all you needed was a little more and-

"I think I'll stop here. You seem to be enjoying yourself too much."

It's embarrassing how fast you stopped him from pulling his hand out your pants, forcing it back down to where it was before. "Jeno, please don't play around," you pleaded.

He snickered at your pleading, fingers immediately making their way back between your legs. Jeno slowly pushed two inside you, a shaky moan leaving your mouth. He pumped his fingers in you, kissing your lips softly. Having no idea what to do with your hands, you held onto his arms, biceps flexing in your hands. "Jeno," you moaned softly.

"You liked that hm," he said in your ear. "You like it when I touch you like this?"

"Y-yeah."

He fingered you faster, the palm of his hand stimulating your clit at the same time. You held onto his arms tighter, closing your eyes as you let your head fall on his shoulder. The moans and whimpers fell through your lips so easily under his touch. Between his hand on your chest and the one in your pants you could barely concentrate on your surroundings.

So when Jaemin suddenly opened the door when he was supposed to get home three hours from now, startled couldn't even begin to describe how you felt. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at your panicked face. Jeno kept going, not giving a single fuck of who just came in the apartment. But even though you were startled, no matter how compromising the position you were in was, it still managed to turn you on even more.

"Jesus, you're a slut aren't you," Jeno teased. "You love the fact that he came in here unannounced with my fingers in your pussy?"

You shook your head, burying your face in his neck. "S-shut up."

"Are we gonna do this now," Jaemin asked, finally breaking his silence.

You looked over at him, confusion and pleasure on your face. "Do what?"

"I guess we can. But I need her to cum first." Jeno and Jaemin were talking like you weren't even there, saying things you didn't even understand. But every time you thought to ask questions, a moan left your lips, making you squeeze his arm again. "Cum Y/N," he said in your ear lowly. "Cum for me."

Your legs are weak, the only thing holding your body up is Jeno's hand under you. He moves his hand faster, palm rubbing your clit harder. "S-shit.." You came hard, grasping his biceps for dear life before you fell into Jeno’s shoulder.

"I'll never get enough of that face," Jaemin mumbled, teeth toying with his lip as he watched you.

Jeno pulled his hand from your leggings, sticking his fingers in your mouth almost immediately. "Suck."

And you did, swirling your tongue around the digits like you were gonna get a grade for it. Jeno watched you, his usual smirk spreading on his face.

"Fuck, I can't watch this anymore." Jaemin walked over to both of you. Jeno moved out of the way, letting Jaemin pick you up and throw your body over his shoulder.

"Wait, what are you guys doing," you panic.

"Don't play dumb you know exactly what's going on," Jeno answered. They walked to your room, practically kicking the door open. You let out a tiny scream when Jaemin dropped you on your bed with no warning, looking at them completely lost.

"You're so cute, like a lost puppy," Jaemin said. He took his hoodie off, having nothing underneath it. Jeno made quick work of his own shirt, throwing it elsewhere in the room. "Are you gonna be good for us?"

"I-I.." you were in complete shock. This was something you fantasized about for way too long, touching yourself to the thought of both of them taking care of you at the same time. You craved it way more than they would ever know. But everything was happening way too fast. So when Jaemin pushed you down on bed, pulling your leggings off, it was like whiplash. Jeno took your tank off quickly, throwing it in a random place.

Jaemin sat himself behind you, leaning on your head board as he pulled your body to him. Your back was pressed against his chest as he wrapped his big arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. He kissed your neck slowly while Jeno laid between your legs, mouth already attaching to your core.

You let out a small gasp as the feeling of Jeno’s mouth and the feeling of Jaemin's hands on your chest clouded your senses. Jeno ate you out like it was his last meal ever, not giving you enough time to recover from the prior activities in the kitchen. His tongue ravaged you, moans and groans sending vibrations to your clit like crazy. And Jaemin's constant kissing and humming against your skin was not making it better.

"You know I'm kind of a pervert," Jaemin whispered, a small smile on his lips. You were leaning on him, your head falling back on to his shoulder as Jeno worked his tongue on you. Jaemin stared down at the sight between your legs, eyelids getting heavy with lust watching the show in front of him. "I like to watch."

His fingers tweaked and pinched at your nipples, unholy noises spilling from your lips easily. He was growing harder and harder, his bulge rubbing on your ass. "Doesn't it feel good," he whispered in your ear. His soft voice sent butterflies to your stomach, a trembling breath unintentionally making its way out.

"Y-yeah."

"Tell him it feels good." Jaemin rolled your nipples in his fingers making you grip your blanket.

"I-it feels good Jeno," you moaned softly.

"Good girl. You're always so good for me." Jeno hooked his arms around your legs, tugging your body a little lower. Jaemin snickered at your surprised expression, hands still working on your chest. "God you're so cute."

Jeno's tongue moved faster, groaning softly against you constantly. You bit your lip starting to grind on his tongue. Your constant moans filled the room, every single sense becoming heightened when you feel yourself starting to approach your orgasm.

Jaemin tilted your head to him, kissing you messily. His tongue invaded your mouth, dancing with yours as Jeno kept going. He knew you were close, he could tell by the way your breathing was picking up and your trembling hands on the blanket. "You're close, aren't you baby," he mumbled on your lips.

You nodded fast, brows knitting when Jeno sucked your clit hard. Jaemin watched your face as your eyes rolled back and body tense at the sensation.

"Look at me when you cum okay?"

"O-oh my god," you moaned loudly. Your hand shot up to his wrist, squeezing it tightly as your body tense up even more. You couldn’t stop yourself, grinding on Jeno's tongue even harder as you came.

"That's it baby, keep looking at me with those pretty eyes." Jaemin kissed you, biting your lip softly as you moaned into his mouth. His hands left your chest, rubbing them down your naked body.

Jeno stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You always knew he had the body of a Greek god but goodness, it didn't hit you hard until now. Jeno tugged his sweats and boxers off, letting his length spring free. He was big, bigger than you thought. You've felt him through his pants many times on the occasions that he slipped behind you or something. But Jesus, it's nothing like seeing the real thing.

"Face down, ass up," Jeno ordered.

Clumsily, you pulled your body out of Jaemin's arms and flipped yourself over. Trying to get yourself on your knees, you slipped, face falling directly into Jaemin's lap. Jaemin gave you a soft chuckle, hand patting your head as you fixed yourself.

"Where's your condoms," Jeno asked.

"Fuck all of that. I need you Jeno," you whined. You subconsciously wiggled your hips, begging for him to take you right there. You've never been so needy for something in your life, but he managed to bring it out of you.

"You need me?" His tone was condescending and mean, but he had that sweet smile on his face. "How bad do you need me?" He took his length, guiding it up and down your slit.

"Real bad," you breathed out, pushing more against him. "So bad, I could die right now."

"You always had a way with words," he mumbled. Jeno pushed his tip into you slowly, making you smile at the stretch. His brows furrowed as he pushed the rest of himself in you, feeling you squeeze tightly around him.

"Fuck you're so big," you whined softly.

Jeno rocked his hips into you, every movement making you moan softly. Your head was between Jaemin's lap as he watched the other male fuck you from behind. You looked up, feeling a small tap on your head. Jaemin was looking down at you with a smirk on his face.

"You didn't think I was gonna let you and Jeno have all the fun did you?"

Lifting yourself on your elbows, moans and whines falling from your mouth as you pull Jaemin out his sweats. He was just a s big as Jeno, and he knew it. The way he was looking down at you, he knew you would have a hard time. Little did he know you liked having a hard time.

"Spit on it."

His words made you clench around Jeno, making the man behind you groan softly. You did as you were told, letting a ball of saliva fall from your lips onto his tip.

"You listen so well," Jaemin praised.

You were so fucked out of your mind at this point, you wanted nothing but to be praised by him. You licked around his tip, looking up at him for his approval with begging eyes. You sunk your head down more, getting more of him into your mouth, sucking him softly. Your brows furrowed, moaning on his length as Jeno started to speed up his thrust. Jaemin could happily die right here, one of his biggest fantasies unraveling in a way he never imagined. And you were just so open to letting him use you, to letting Jeno use you.

His lids hung low, soft moans and pants leaving his lips as you bobbed your head following Jeno's rhythm. "We should've done this ages ago," Jaemin mumbled, fingers running through your hair. He grasped it hard, following your movements with his hand, but if you kept going, he was surely going to cum in your mouth. Jaemin pulled you off of him slowly, knitting his brows at the loss of your mouth. "You're way too good at that," he huffed out.

Jeno's low grunts mixed with your moans and whimpers made Jaemin grow harder and harder every second. Jeno pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"You love this don't you," Jeno breathed.

"Yeah." Your voice was shaky, about to break at any moment.

"All it took was my fingers to break you. God, you're a slut."

You needed more, and you couldn't take the sight of Jaemin sitting in front of you, hard length sitting there untouched. Jaemin's eyes shot to you as you took him in your mouth, immediately bobbing your head. "You really..must want me to cum in your mouth."

You pulled off of him, a string of spit connecting your mouth and his tip. "Y-yeah," you moaned. "Use me."

There was something in Jaemin's eyes that changed. Without a word he gasped as he pushed himself back into your mouth. You opened your mouth as far as you could letting him fuck your mouth like you were his own personal fleshlight. Your eyes were screwed shut, the impact of Jeno inside you and Jaemin constantly hitting the back of your throat sending you into a sensory overload. You were so sensitive, everything was starting to hurt, but it hurt so good.

You gagged, tears immediately gathering in your water line. Jaemin pulled you off him, breathing heavily seeing you caught and moaning at Jeno's movements. Spit was dribbling down your chin, but it's not like you could've known anyway. Not when Jeno was fucking you like he wanted to get you pregnant. You wouldn't mind it honestly, and you know he wouldn't either.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Jeno grunted through his teeth. He lifted his knee, one foot laying flat on the mattress to get a better angle. "Gonna cum deep inside this pretty pussy."

At this point you were sure you weren't going to be able to walk the next day or the day after that. You felt your body becoming tense, a tight ball forming in your stomach. "J-Jeno, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered loudly.

"Open your mouth."

Jaemin's voice startled you for a second, completely overtaken with the feeling of Jeno. You glanced down seeing Jaemin stroke himself fast. He looked so pretty when he was about to cum. The sweat glistened on his forehead, mouth hanging open, pretty pink cock pulsing in his hand. You opened your mouth, panting loudly feeling yourself come closer and closer to your orgasm.

And just as Jaemin came, letting the thick ropes of cum hit your tongue and face all over, so did you, squeezing tightly around Jeno like you were holding him in for dear life. Loud moans and whimpers bounced off the walls while your hands gripped your blanket so tight it hurt. But Jeno wouldn't stop, not until he came deep in you.

"How does a mini me running around here sound," he chuckled darkly.

"Good, so fucking good." You were delirious. You didn't even know what you were agreeing to at this point, not until he gripped your hips hard and painted your insides white. The panic didn't set in until 2 seconds later, your brows knitting in worry, but you also felt yourself liking it. You liked that he didn't pull out, and it felt so good. Like he owned you.

Your body slumped as Jeno pulled out of you, breathing heavily into your arms. You shuddered, feeling him push his seed back into you as it fell down your thighs.

Jaemin couldn't wait for you to catch your breath, getting up when Jeno moved off the bed behind you. Jaemin took your body, flipping you into your back with one quick movement.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he said, stripping completely naked in front of you.

You couldn't even speak, your throat was too sore to say anything and your brain was completely fried. Jaemin lifted your legs, spreading them gently.

"I'm not like him," he said, tone sweeter than you expected. "I won’t fuck you so rough." His eyes scanned your body, going from your cum covered face to your pretty chest, to your cunt. "But I will make you scream my name."

Jaemin lined his length with your core, pushing himself in you in one swift motion. You held your legs up, staring at where the both of you met. When Jaemin started thrusting into you, you couldn’t keep your voice down. Every movement he made felt like heaven. The raspy whimpers that left your mouth were music to his ears - it made him want to fuck you till your couldn't even remember your name.

"You're so good for me," he breathed, smiling when you nodded fast.

You looked beside you, seeing Jeno watch the both of you, touching himself. "Come here," you breathed.

Jeno bit his lip softly, doing what you said. You moved his hand, replacing it with your own as you lifted your head, wrapping your lips around his cock. You looked up at him, batting your lashes as you sucked him off. Jeno can't remember a time where he was turned on this much in his life. You were just so good, so weak, so careful even when you were being fucked way past your limit.

"She's still so tight after you fucked her open." Jaemin snapped his hips into you hard, making you groan loudly around Jeno. "What a fucking slut."

Jeno chuckled darkly looking at your desperate soft expression. It was funny to him, how you still managed to look cute and innocent with a dick in your mouth and cum on your face.

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as they both rocked into you at different yet quick paces, causing your mind to spin miles a minute. “God she’s so fucking good for us, taking both our cocks so well. You feel good baby?”

Jeno’s words caused you to shake in pleasure, moaning around him in response. There was no way you’d ever be able to feel this good with anyone else. You didn’t just feel good, you felt fucking euphoric.

“Fuck Y/N I’m so close” you let out a muffed cry as Jaemin’s hand found it’s way to your sensitive clit. Rolling and pinching it between his fingers. The desperation in Jaemin’s voice paired with your over sensitive body from your first orgasm created a whole new level of pleasure. You were close…And they both knew it.

The way you tightened around Jaemin and the high pitched moans breaking past your cock stuffed mouth was a dead giveaway. “Are you going to come for us again Y/N? Is being double stuffed making you feel good?” Something about the tone of Jeno’s voice was just what you needed to be sent over the edge.

Your orgasm shook through you in waves. “F-fuck I’m cumming Y/N. Take it well baby.” Jaemin rocked into you before stilling his hips. Shooting his seed deep into you with breathy groans.

Not being too far behind Jeno’s pace became sloppy. Once a consistent quick pace he now fucked your mouth with unsteady thrusts. Jeno held your head in place as he came in your mouth making sure you took every single drop he had to give. Once he was done he slowly pulled himself out of your mouth.

Jaemin pulled out of your pussy causing you to clench at the sudden loss of him. Suddenly your mind felt as if it was on autopilot. As you felt his cum leak out of your hole you pulled Jeno down into a heated kiss feeling him groan from the taste of him on your tongue. “Oh? Forgetting all about me now?”

Jaemin pouted as you pulled away from Jaemin weakly reaching out to the man. Smiling he leaned down kissing you passionately. “Did you have fun Y/N?” Not having too much energy left you nodded leaning your head onto his shoulder. “Cmon Y/N let’s get you cleaned up.”

The three of you would definitely need to have a conversation later about their little ambush but for now you think I’d be okay to let it slide.

#nct #nct u #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct smut #nct x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #jaemin #jeno #jaemin oneshot #jaemin smut #jaemin imagines #jeno fanfic #jeno scenarios #jeno smut

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saetoru · 1 year

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。DIFFICULT — GOJO SATORU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ gojo is too stubborn to let you peacefully sleep on the couch (1.2k words)

☽ contents ⋮ mentions of an argument but it's fluff, gn! reader, annoying gojo bc who is he if not a headache

☽ notes ⋮ he is so cute i wanna stab him

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with.

he’s stubborn and never seems to take things seriously and he never really listens to a word you say—everything always goes in one ear and out the other. like when you tell him you'll be on the couch for the night so you can have space, for example. it seems space is not a word in gojo's dictionary, because he strolls into the living room with his hands in his pockets and his lips whistling a soft tune. you glare at him from your spot on the couch, watching as he stops a few feet before you.

there’s a smooth grin on his face, almost too smooth—like he’s plastered it on for appearance’s sake, like it masks the true nature of his feelings as he hides them with that usual unbothered smile of his.

“is there room for one more?”

“no,” you say bluntly, promptly turning away to face your back to him. you don’t have to look back to know his face is curled into that pout of his—the dangerous one that does too good of a job of convincing you to give him his way.

“kay, fine,” he huffs, and then you hear the soft thud of his body settling on the floor, making you itch to turn and peek over the edge of the couch. you succeed at ignoring for him for approximately thirty seconds before the curiosity gets the better of you and you swallow your pride and take a quick look.

sure enough, he lies curled on the hardwood floor, limbs awkwardly sprawled as he stares up at you with innocent eyes.

"what are you doing?" you furrow your brows, and he stares at you like you've asked a silly question—maybe you have. being hard to get rid of has always been gojo's specialty, and you should know better by now that retiring to the couch is never enough to retire from him.

"i'm going to sleep. what does it look like?" he says like it's obvious. you almost smack him with your pillow for his tone, but you have half a mind not to—it's the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, and it's not your problem he forgot the single most important thing when it comes to sleeping.

"well, why here?" you scowl, making him shrug as he settles his hands behind his head and looks up to the ceiling.

"seems like a good spot to sleep," he says casually, "nice hard floor to cushion my back, cool breeze of the air conditioning to keep me cold, the clock ticking in my ear to keep me up. perfect place, huh? and if i get bored, we even have a tv!"

"i let you have the bed, you idiot," you purse your lips.

"who needs a bed when i can sleep on the hardwood floor next to my sweet little baby—" you cut him off before he can finish, feeling the last possible vein you can preserve while dating a man like gojo satoru pop.

"well, then i'm going to use the bed if you don't," you sit up, grabbing your pillow and blanket. and because he's gojo satoru, the bane of your existence and the sole cause of all your headaches, he sits up too.

"good idea, baby! let's go—"

"no. you stay here, and i'll take the bed."

"okay," he hums, still not making any moves to lay back down.

you quickly realize this isn't a battle you can easily win with him—as is any battle, really—and you roll your eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat as you glare down at him. he looks up at you with that same innocent look—those same wide eyes that blink up at you like they couldn't possibly do any wrong.

"you realize i'm not sharing the bed with you just because you're stubborn, right?" you ask dryly.

he grins, that familiar glint in his eyes that always means trouble, "well, i never said anything about taking the bed, did i?"

"satoru, you can't possibly mean sleeping on the floor next to the bed—"

"it's technically not the bed," he insists, "all you said is you're not sleeping with me. you never said anything about near me."

"okay, i don't want to sleep near you," you scowl.

"ah ah," he shakes his head, "you can't add rules now. it's too late."

"satoru—"

"so what'll it be? bed or couch?"

"i hate you," you grumble, settling back down on the (uncomfortable) cushions of your living room couch, back once more facing him. you can hear his body softly settle back onto the floor again, and after a few beats of silence, he speaks up again.

"can i use your blanket? i'm cold."

"no."

"c'mon, just toss half of it over the edge, i'll scoot. we can make it work—"

"are you trying to piss me off?" you snap as you sit up, glaring down at him once more.

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with. he's stubborn and annoying and so stupidly handsome. he makes your eyes soften before you can help it as they graze over his messy hair and the soft glow of his lip balm. he makes your anger ebb away slowly no matter how hard you try to latch onto it just from that toothy grin of his. he makes you forget you're arguing and that you should be mad when you notice the soft, gentle traces of love in his eyes.

so you blink as you watch him, letting out a quiet sigh as he shakes his head and offers you a small, innocent smile—one that tells you he loves you, that he's not mad, that he'll wait on the cold, hard floor with no pillow and blanket for you as long as he needs to.

"no," he chuckles, "no i'd never want to make you mad. you're scary when you get mad."

"that's rich, coming from the strongest sorcerer in the world," you mutter, making him laugh softly. and you're not mad anymore—not as much as you were just a bit ago.

maybe it's because you love him too, even despite the way he makes your veins pop, and your patience thin, and your head ache with that aggravating personality of his. maybe that's what love is, when even the bad and the ugly are part of the good.

"behind every strong man is an even stronger—"

"just come here," you groan, scooting over to make room for him on the couch. he doesn't need to be told twice—doesn't even waste a moment as if he's been expecting it all this time as he climbs in beside you and pulls you into his chest.

and it's cramped—it's slightly uncomfortable as your legs dangle over the edge and your pillow barely fits under both of your heads. but his body is warm and his arms hold you tight and you can faintly make out out the thrum of his heart against your body.

maybe it's not so bad—not if it's gojo.

"did you miss me too much?" he wriggles his brows, pouting when you shove his face away as he leans in for a kiss.

"still haven't earned kisses back yet," you grin, "goodnight satoru."

"but i can't sleep without a goodnight kiss—"

"love you," you cut him off with a giggle.

gojo satoru is difficult to have arguments with—but you think you win this time.

i want to have gojo satorus babies

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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phyrestartr · 26 days

Text

Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader

Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k

[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]

@better-imagination-9 I summon thee

Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.

He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.

“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.

“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”

Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”

“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.”

Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.

“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”

“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”

Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.

You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.

“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.

“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”

“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.

Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”

He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.

The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.

The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.

–

Ding.

He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free.

“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached.

You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.”

“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.”

“Probably not.”

“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.”

“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you.

“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely.

“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”

He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts.

But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know.

Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling.

Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him.

“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.

He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.

You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it.

“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.”

“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?”

“I'm sleeping.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Sukuna.”

“I said–”

“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.”

“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.”

“Don't blame this on me.”

“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.”

You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose.

“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?”

“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.”

“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.”

“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”

“About what?”

“About whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Alright. Okay.”

Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–

“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass.

You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked.

Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.”

You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door.

“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?”

“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–

Whack.

He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.

“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–”

But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.

Thwack.

You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.

–

Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched.

It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did.

Boy or girl?

Maybe the world did you a favour.

Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.

He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better.

Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better.

–

“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.”

The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him.

“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.”

–

You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior.

Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.”

All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his–

“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings.

“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Sukuna liked that.

“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.”

Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands.

“Found it, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.”

“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.”

“Where'd you find it?”

“My pocket.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you.

“Have a drink with me.”

Your expression soured.

Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?”

Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.”

Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall.

“With a bit of Baileys.”

“No Baileys.”

–

He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew.

You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.

“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.

You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes.

And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow.

You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.”

“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too.

“Raincheck,” you murmured.

He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–”

The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”

Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck.

You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”

“No.”

“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.

Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”

You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.

“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”

“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there.

Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–

His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?”

For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee.

“Come sit.”

Sukuna complied.

You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say.

“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”

Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.”

You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.”

Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.

Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.

“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.”

“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.

You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”

“Says who?”

“Science. Doctors.”

“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”

You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote.

“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.”

Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer.

–

For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around.

Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.

Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite.

Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet.

Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth?

Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you.

He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–

I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?

He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again?

I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply.

“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.”

Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?

Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.

A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony.

Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.

“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?

You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being.

“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”

“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–”

“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.”

Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”

“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.”

“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”

“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”

“Tch.”

“Awe, big alpha's mad.”

“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock.

You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood.

“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.”

“Tch.” You've said that before.

“I mean it.”

“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.

You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–”

You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide.

“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”

“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance.

“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed.

You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.

Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.

And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings.

What a divine gift.

He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness.

“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–”

The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him.

Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear.

I do.

Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body.

You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding.

Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment.

You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.”

Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole.

Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.”

Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it.

“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”

Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–

“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.

-- DRABBLES --

“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?”

“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”

“Husband, jackass.”

Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement.

Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.

“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.”

“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours.

“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”

“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”

Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”

“You got shot.”

“Been shot before.”

“Jumped out of a car.”

“I've jumped outta faster.”

“Then got hit by another car.”

“That was a first.”

You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.”

“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…”

He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening.

“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”

Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside.

But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa.

“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry?

“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.

“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”

And for once, you didn’t argue.

–

“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!”

You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.

Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues.

“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again.

“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.”

You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?”

Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!”

“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back.

“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child.

Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”

You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”

Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”

“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?”

“Sukuna,” you warned again.

“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster.

Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–”

Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice.

You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–

“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you.

The boys froze and stared at you.

“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head.

“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand.

“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–

Thump. Thump.

“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant.

“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”

Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm.

You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.

“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!”

“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.

“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.”

“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!”

“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”

“WH–HEY!!”

“Sukuna.”

“Heh.”

“What about gramps, then?”

Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment.

“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”

“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”

Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”

“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.”

“That's generous.”

“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever.

Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–”

“Awesome, I’ll let him know!”

“Oi, runt–”

But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

Text

I'm not jealous (I just want to crash her face)

It took time anon, but here you are! You can find the request here 😋

I hope it was what you had in mind :)

In this world, Alexia knees are perfectly fine and I want to live here.

TW : Jealousy, angst

______________________________________________________________

Despite the difficulties your teammates face because of the Spanish federation, you are still happy to find yourself in training camps. This means that, for once, you find yourself alongside your friends and not facing her, you who has been one of the pillars of Real Madrid for many years. You have done all your formation at Madrid and you feel perfectly well in this team, even if we must be honest and admit that FC Barcelona dominates you head and shoulders.

Even if you are enemies in the field, you get along perfectly well with almost everyone. So you are more than happy to find Mariona, Ona, Cata, Aitana and of course Alexia. For your part, you join the training camp with Olga, Athenea and Misa, with whom you also get along very well. It’s been a while now that social networks are seeing you as a couple with Olga and make a lot of clips and video about booth of you. And your friends tease you a lot with it. Whether it’s your teammates in Madrid or your friends in Barcelona.

In truth, you have never hidden your sexuality and the jokes and innuendo you make about it on social networks are multiple.

There’s finally only one person that this fabricated relationship doesn’t amuse, and that’s your real girlfriend. Who is no one but Alexia Putellas herself.

People are far from suspecting the nature of the feelings you share, it must be admitted that the fact that you live in Madrid and Alexia in Barcelona probably helps a lot. Even most of your teammates aren’t aware, there’s really only Ona and Aitana, who caught you in an intense kissing session against a wall supposed to be hidden from view at the last Classico. You made them swear not tell anyone, and you know your secret is safe with those two. However, this doesn’t prevent them from teasing Alexia on the subject, according to the complaints from the blonde when you call each other at night.

You are a little disappointed to learn that you share your room with Olga, secretly hoping to be with Alexia but the latter ends up with Aitana. Maybe the brunette will agree to let you change, but Olga should be given a valid explanation. Which will have to be pretty good since the latter is the one of those you are closest to in Madrid, even if she does not know the reality of the nature of your relationship with Alexia.

"Don’t make that face, Y/N" laughs Cata as you pout when you get your magnetic cards.

"I’ll never get rid of this one" you joke and give Olga a playful hip kick.

"Oi, a little respect please!"

Your answer and Olga’s make others laugh around you, but you can only see Alexia’s tense face behind the others. This expression is accentuated when Olga takes you by the arm to go and get your room at the end of the corridor. When you turn around while Olga opens the door, you no longer see Alexia.

"I think I’m going to take a nap" says Olga by dropping on her bed after you put your things away.

"You have marmot blood, Olga, I swear"

The player mumble you a vague answer in return but seems already half asleep when her face met her cushion. You take the opportunity to take out your phone and write a message to Alexia.

From You Olga's sleeping, where are you?

From Ale 💌 In my room

From You Can I come?

From Ale 💌 Why? Not enjoying your time with your girlfriend? 🙄

From You Ale please stop I miss you 😒

From Ale 💌 Jenni's here

You answer nothing, a little annoyed by this information. If Alexia can’t stand the presence of Olga at your side, you have a hard time with the idea that Alexia’s ex-girlfriend could spend more time with her than you. You throw your phone on the bedside table, waking Olga on the other bed.

"Don’t be so noisy god" mumbles Olga, before turning around and falling asleep again quickly.

You roll your eyes and sigh as you put your arm behind your head. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, you let your mind fly towards the few escapades that you had with Alexia. You didn’t post anything on social media that would suggest it, but you spent the holidays together before you had to go back to Madrid, Alexia’s family welcoming yours so you could be together.

"What are you thinking? I hear your brain smoking from here"

You take a surprised look at Olga, whom you thought was asleep. But you shrug your shoulders and sigh softly again.

"Nothing. I’ll go explore the hotel I think"

You get up and put on your tap shoes before heading for the door.

"I’m coming with you" Olga yawns as she stretches.

You wait for her to reach you patiently, before going for a walk in the corridors. You end up meeting Ona, Laia, Eva and Lucia who settled in a room with a TV and a game console. They seem to be thrown into an intense Mariokart’s Game, with Eva trying to knock Ona out of her seat to prevent her from finishing first again.

Considering that this is a great way to change your mind, you sit with them, watching them play. When Lucia arrives last for the fourth time in a row, she gives you her controller, swearing. Laia proposes to Olga to play too and you find yourself stuck between Ona and Olga, deciding to separate Eva and Ona to avoid any cheating between the two.

You are joined by several other teammates while waiting for dinner, but no sign of Alexia, Jenni or Aitana. You realize a little too late that you forgot your phone in your room, but you’re a little lazy to go back up and look for it.

At dinner, you manage to sit next to Alexia on a bench, facing Misa and Mariona. If the conversation is light and lively, you feel chills running through you when Alexia’s leg sticks against yours. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen each other and you’re still so addicted to her touch.

"Fancy to see you without Olga" mumbles Alexia, taking advantage of the absence of Misa and Mariona gone to look for a dessert.

"I could tell you the same thing about Jenni" you answer in the same tone, before finishing your glass of water.

You take a look at her, realizing she’s already watching you. She seems thoughtful and reflective, but this doesn’t prevent you from blushing and turning your eyes away under the intensity of her gaze.

"Stop looking at me like that" you sigh softly.

"Like what?"

"Like you’re gonna rip my clothes off in two seconds"

Alexia answers nothing and just smirke at you maliciously. You can’t continue this conversation for very long because your two table companions are already coming back to you.

"Meet me outside my room door at 10:30 p.m."

********

You’re on time in front of Alexia’s room, hidden under the hood of your sweater. You are nervous, the blonde seems to be late and if a member of the staff catches you outside your room at this time, you will take ten laps of the field in addition to everyone the next morning. Besides, it would mean that you couldn’t enjoy the stolen moments with Alexia, which you’re desperately waiting for.

Fortunately, the door eventually opens a few minutes later and Alexia grabs your hand to take you to another room.

"How did you get the card from another room?" you whisper watching her open it.

But Alexia just smiles and winks at you before she lets you into the room. She closes the door gently behind her before turning to you.

"Finally" you whisper against her lips when she kisses you.

You feel her smile against your lips, her muscular arms passed around your waist. After a few kisses, you put your arms around her neck to bury your face in her hair, closing your eyes, seeking to make the most of the feeling of comfort she gives you.

"Come lie down" whispers Alexia after a few minutes in this position, taking your hand back to take you to the bed.

You let yourself fall on the mattress you bounce on, laughing when Alexia decides to jump on you instead of lying next to you. Passing a leg around her thighs, you roll yourself to find yourself above her.

"Hello you" you smile maliciously, your face only a few centimeters from hers.

You lean to kiss her, but it was not knowing Alexia well to imagine that she would not try to regain the advantage. After having addressed you a mischievous smile, she makes you turn again so that you find yourself under her, your hands imprisoned in hers at the height of your face.

"Better this way"

You don’t have time to answer before her lips are on yours again and honestly, you don’t care who won or not your little game. You take advantage of this moment to exchange many kisses and discuss a little, everything and nothing. Lying face to face, you play with her fingers while admiring her, listening to her tell you the latest love adventures of her little sister.

When you find yourself lying on her, your ear on her heart, you have to struggle not to fall asleep. His heart rate lulls you and you feel your eyelids become particularly heavy.

"Don’t fall asleep mi Amor" Alexia whispers. "We have to go back to our rooms"

You moan as you hear her, burying your face against her. You have absolutely no desire to leave the comfort and warmth of her arms.

"We can stay here"

Alexia has a small sigh and you know very well that it is not possible. But what would you give to be able to sleep with her tonight. It is therefore with regret that you take off from her, not being able to mask the displeasure that it gives you.

"Don’t make that face" Alexia says, imprisoning your chin between her thumb and index finger.

"Sorry" you mumble without looking at her.

Alexia doesn’t let go until your eyes are in hers, which takes a few seconds. It gently kisses each of your cheeks, nose and lips before resuming speech.

"We’ll try to find a longer time just the two of us. Okay? I miss you too"

"Yeah"

You shiver when she lays kisses along your jaw but your breath cuts when you feel her imprisoning your skin between her lips and biting her. It’s easy for Alexia to make you lose track of things and when you realize she’s leaving a mark on your skin, it’s too late.

********

Of course your teammates notice your hickey. It didn’t last five minutes after you separated from your hoodie so that Misa and Sandra saw it, both teasing you so much that soon the whole team knows. If Alexia initially seems to find this very amusing, you see her face tense when Eva teases you again.

"We’re going to have to ask you and Olga not to be in the same room if you can’t behave yourself"

Olga, who was drinking, almost chokes with her water and it’s finally Aitana who flies to your rescue.

"Leave them alone for two seconds. You’re worse than the fans you’re complaining about."

After that, you find yourself being trained by Aitana’s arm as a training partner and you are grateful to her. On the other hand, you do not miss the inquisitive look of Olga or the withdrawn air of Alexia.

"You’re in a lot of trouble" said AItana, starting the stretching exercises.

"Don’t tell me about" you mumble

At the end of the training, as you wisely return to the changing rooms to wash a minimum before lunch, you feel that you are grabbed by the arm to train in a corner of the corridor. You were hoping to see Alexia, but you find yourself in front of Olga.

"I haven’t said anything so far Y/N, because you’re my friend and I’m trying to protect you. But I think I deserve to know who did this to you"

She puts a finger on your hickey, making you shiver with pain.

"Ouch" you grimace by pushing her hand sharply, frowning.

"Everyone thinks it’s me, but you and I know very much that it’s not me. Who is it?"

You hesitate for a split second, the guilt of what you are doing to your best friend crushing you during this time.

"I’m sorry" you sigh softly as you put a hand on her arm. "I didn’t think it would turn against you like that."

"I don’t care, I can do it for you. But I just want to know who I need to protect."

"What are you doing?"

You suddenly jump when you hear the voice of Jenni Hermoso ringing behind you, retreating a few steps away mechanically. If the brunette has an amused look at you, Alexia’s green eyes throw flames.

"Nothing" you sigh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jenni being unable to hold her tongue, most of the entire team is quickly aware that her and Alexia have supposedly surprised you two on the verge of kissing in a hallway of the stadium. At the end of the afternoon, your nerves are so tense that you want to hit your head on the ground.

"I’m not with Olga!" you end up yelling at Misa and Jenni, losing your last nerves. "Leave me alone now, that’s enough."

You cross the football field with big strides, joining Ona who welcomes you with a sorry smile. You have two advantages to being with her, to begin with she is aware of the truth of your relationship and then you know that she will not ask you any questions.

"Alexia looks tense" sighs softly Ona when you are divided into four teams for a games tournament.

Your eyes are mechanically focused on your girlfriend who seems to have avoided you all afternoon and you see that each of her muscles looks tense. Maybe because she’s on the same team as Olga. Your bestfriend seems surprised by the cold and distant behavior of your captain, even if you quickly understand why.

But Alexia finds herself talking to her badly, even refusing to pass her while she finds herself several times well placed to score. It’s as subtle as your hickey and you soon notice the surprised and questioning looks your teammates exchange.

"She will make us discover" you sigh to Ona who, like you, noticed Alexia’s behavior.

"Would that be disturbing?" asks you Ona with curiosity.

"No" you finally answer after a few seconds of hesitation.

It’s not you who wants to keep your relationship private, but Alexia. Her reasons are however perfectly understandable and if things were reversed you would probably do the same. If Alexia wants your relationship to be hidden, it’s to protect you and prevent you from getting threatening messages, messages that aren’t necessarily nice either. You appreciate being recognized for your football and not the person you love. That’s what you discreetly explain to Ona, before being interrupted by your trainers.

"Ona, Y/N, stop two seconds your flirting and please focus"

"I’m going to lose my nerve" you mumble to Ona who squeeze your Arm in a comforting gesture.

You’re particularly bad at this practice, missing goals that your grandmother would have managed to put in the back. At the end of the training, you and Alexia are caught apart by your trainers. You to refocus on the real reasons you’re here if you want to play in the next game and Alexia to behave better with Olga. Eyes down and cheeks red, you mumble excuses before heading straight to your hotel room.

"At least now, I know who it is" Olga points out when she finds you in your room.

You groan in your beard, taking your phone in your hand when you hear it vibrate on the bedside table.

Ale 💌 I can’t do this anymore…

You Do what? Us?!

Ale 💌 No! God, not us mi Amor, obviously I just can't stand people thinking you're in love with Olga It makes me sick

You Well I think she saw it today, you've been pretty mean to her 👀 And you know what I think about it, Ale. I know you meant to protect me but I am strong enough to deal with the eventual shit the fans will say about me. And you'll be there for me, no?

Ale 💌 Of course I will. Can I come to your room to talk? I hate texting

You Olga's here actually

Ale Well at least I can excuse myself for my behavior? 😅

********

Alexia actually joined you in your room, flatly apologizing to Olga who naturally accepted. She took the opportunity to ask you a few questions before leaving the room so that you can discuss your relationship in privacy. You and Alexia decided to finally stop hiding, but at the end of the camp. Your hidden couple has already caused enough incidents like this.

A few days later, you play your match against Sweden. An important match, requiring a victory on your part if you want to guaranteed qualification. You are part of the starting eleven, like is Alexia. Just like Olga, Aitana and Ona. You are as often a little nervous before the start of the game, not being able to stop yourself from jumping on the spot before enteront to the field. Irene wearing the captain’s armband for today, Alexia is standing behind you and you feel her hand resting on your shoulder.

You don’t have to exchange words when your eyes meet, you smile at her and she smiles back at you. And that’s enough. Obviously, the exchange isn’t missed by some of your teammates, but finally you don’t care. The fact that Alexia no longer wants you to hide makes you much happier than you imagined.

The match is tense, neither of the two teams managing to find the way to the nets despite your many attempts. A few yellow cards were handed out during the game to try to keep a clear mind. Sweden was on the verge of scoring several times, but fortunately Cata made some great saves. Just like Zecira Musovic in front of you.

"Come on, we’ll end up scoring!" repeats Alexia, continuing to encourage her team.

It’s in fact the team of Sweden which has the next opportunity, Lina Hurtig running towards the goal of Cata after a fault not whistled on Ona. You find yourself on the other side of the field but makes your speed speak to try to catch her. You gain ground quickly, Hurtig being at the end of the race. She manages to strike, but you throw yourself in front of the ball so that it doesn’t take the direction of the goal. You feel the ball bouncing off your back to the other side. What you hadn’t thought of was that the Swedish player’s cleats came into contact with your face.

The pain is immediate and your hands on your face when you fall on the floor.

"Y/N!"

Among all the exclamations, you only hear Alexia’s voice far away from you. However, it’s Cata who is first towards you, turning you on your back and trying to remove your hands from your face.

"Call the doctors!" scream Olga as she sees the blood blushing your fingers.

Her voice tells you that she is so close to you and you hear Hurtig apologizing at full speed in English, certifying that it was absolutely not wanted. You know that, of course.

The experienced hands of a nurse take hold of your hands so that they can see your face and the lights of the stadium partially blind you. You see Olga’s blurry face and Cata’s just behind, but they’re not the ones you want to see.

"Alexia?"

"I’m right here Bebita"

You feel her kneel next to you after a second of hesitation and take your hand.

"How’s Ona?" You ask when you remember the brunette on the floor, looking for a topic of discussion so as not to think about what the doctors are doing to you.

"I’m fine"

You turn your eyes towards the voice, smiling softly as you see that she actually seems to be fine. You then shift your attention to Alexia’s worried face and you don’t take your eyes off her, except when asked to follow the flashlight light.

"It seems to be fine. However, you must protect your face if you don’t want to have stitches"

You pout but don’t flinch. Alexia helps you stand up and insists on accompanying you to the touchline, her arm tightly tightened around your waist. You lock your eyes in hers when she gently puts her hand on your cheek before smiling. Two seconds later, she returns to the field to resume the game and you find yourself facing a smiling nurse.

"Come on, Casanova, close your eyes."

You end up winning the game thanks to a goal from Jenni in the last minutes. At the end of the Game, you find yourself in front of Hurtig who apologizes again and again, re-explaining that she never tried to hurt you.

"I know" you smile as you squeeze her shoulder with your hand in a comforting gesture. "But really, it’s okay. I won’t even have stitches apparently"

You don’t see Alexia approaching you, but that doesn’t prevent her from sliding an arm around your waist again without interrupting your discussion. You willingly let yourself go against her, gently pressing your head on her shoulder for a few moments. You don’t miss Lina’s surprised look, but she apologizes to join her teammates when Ona and Olga join you.

"Jenni is not going to be able to stop teasing you, you know that, right?" Olga laughs. "Everyone understood now"

Alexia smiles and shrugs. When you look up at her, she smiles at you. And you tell yourself that if Alexia keeps smiling at you like that to the rest of your life, you’re ready to bear all the teasing in the world.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

Text

Dummy II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You've still got your dummy

"No," Magda says, mouth dropping open in shock.

Pernille groans. "Don't."

"Pernille."

"Don't!"

"You said you were weaning her off it!"

Pernille huffs. "Do you know how hard that is?!"

Magda's just flown in from London. It's the early hours of the morning and it's nice that Pernille has stayed up to wait for her but they both know that Magda wants to see you most.

At eleven months, you've managed to learn how to crawl and Magda hates that she's missed it. You're forming little half-words now too, not quite proper ones but you're very nearly there.

So, after greeting Pernille, the first thing Magda does before bed is to look in on you. You've starfished yourself out on the bed, spreading your little limbs out as far as you can get them.

You look adorably sleepy with your eyes scrunched up tight and in a little onesie that got puppies and kittens on it.

Everything looks great except for the rhythmic bobbing of the dummy in your mouth.

Pernille looks apologetic, a nervous smile on her face. "It helps!" She defends when Magda fixes her with a pointed look," And she only really uses it for sleeping!"

"You said that you were getting rid of it!"

"Be quiet!" Pernille hisses," You'll wake her!"

Magda sighs, rubbing her temples. "Let's...Let's just go to bed. I...We'll deal with this tomorrow."

The idea of you and your dummy runs through Magda's mind that morning when she wakes up to an empty bed and music filtering through the closed door.

It's not that she's trying to be mean but she doesn't want you to become too reliant on it. Self-soothing is all well and good but using your dummy as a crutch can only end badly in the long run.

She hauls herself out of bed, padding out to the kitchen where Pernille is sitting at the table, spoon feeding you your breakfast.

"Morning," Magda greets, pressing a firm kiss to Pernille's temple before moving to greet you too.

You turn your face away from her when you see her, little nose wrinkled up like you've just seen something unsightly.

Magda laughs a little bit, still moving towards you and you slap at her when she tries to touch you. At first, she thinks you're being stubborn but you screech at her and spit out your food on her hand when she still gets closer.

Pernille has to smother her laugh as you keep rejecting Magda. "Maybe she knows that you're planning to take away her dummy."

You must recognise that last word because your little eyebrows lift up and you pick it up from where it's clipped onto your onesie, popping it into your mouth.

It bobs in your mouth.

Magda pulls on the little chord connected to your shirt.

You clench around. You've got a few teeth now so it's harder to force it out of your mouth. Your face scrunches up in annoyance and you bat at Magda's hands again, turning so you're facing away from her.

"I don't think you're her favourite today," Pernille says breezily as she lifts you out of your highchair and wipes your face.

Magda's getting that feeling too. It's rare that you've got such obvious distaste for her. Whenever she comes to visit, you seem so happy to see her, content to have her sit next to you or hold you nice and tight.

She knows that she's missed a few things (when you first crawled, your first tooth, that time when you decided you wanted to roll everywhere) but she's never had you this annoyed at her so early on in the visit.

You're a very happy baby apart from the usual things like getting your nappy changed or being made to eat things you don't like. It hurts a little that you have no problem rejecting her like this.

As Pernille changes you, Magda broods on the sofa.

There's a chance that you're going to absolutely hate her by the end of this long weekend because she's adamant that you're going to be weaned off your dummy.

Magda scrolls through online advice as Pernille returns with you.

You're placed happily on the floor where you begin to crawl over to where your toys are already laid out.

"The dummy's been put away," Pernille reports," I told you. She only has it when she's sleeping."

"And I told you that we need to wean her off it. She's nearly a year old, Pernille. If we don't do it now then we're never going to get round to doing it."

Pernille sighs, turning her attention to where you're banging some of your big bricks together and waving your Frido-swan around. "You'll have to lead the charge on this," She says.

Magda rolls her eyes and teases," You're so soft."

"Can you blame me? Look at her!"

You've abandoned your blocks now in favour of laying down on the floor with your Frido-swan covering your face. You're not doing much but laying there, occasionally kicking out your legs and giggling like something's very funny.

"Yeah," Magda agrees, her own soft smile appearing on her face. She gets up from her seat to sit on the floor next to you.

She pulls the swan from your face. You're still smiling until you catch sight of her and then your face goes a little stormy as you stare. You shift on your back for a bit before managing to roll over onto your knees, crawling away quickly towards Pernille.

Magda huffs.

You didn't even spare her a backwards look as you made yourself comfy with Pernille on the sofa.

Your estranged behaviour continues all day, culminating in a screeching match at bath time when Magda attempts to do it with Pernille out of the room.

By the time bedtime rolls around, you're fairly settled. You accept a kiss from Pernille happily and then more begrudgingly accept one from Magda before you're put down in your crib.

Your mouth opens automatically for your dummy.

But it doesn't come.

Your mouth closes again as you scrunch up your face.

Pernille's already left the room, unwilling to really see this through, so Magda's the only other person there.

You open your mouth again like the first time was just a fluke.

You close it, glaring up at Magda with as much venom as your little body can manage.

Your mouth opens again, only this time not for your dummy but to let out a loud wail.

Magda flinches and backs out the room quickly. Pernille's waiting by the door.

"Are you sure this is what they said we should do?" She asks, staring at the closed door that they can still hear you crying through.

Magda nods. "They said to see if she self soothes. If she cries for two minutes then to go back in and settle her and repeat until she goes to sleep."

"It's cruel, Magda," Pernille says," We can't cut her off like this."

"Go to bed," Magda says softly," I'll deal with her."

Pernille makes a face. "Magda-"

"Go," She insists," Seriously, you look exhausted. She's mine too, I can deal with her tonight."

Pernille nods, leaving a soft kiss on Magda's lips before retreating to the bedroom.

Magda watches her go and, when the door shuts, she opens yours.

You're still wailing, though your tears peter off when you notice someone's come to see you. It switches back to annoyance though, when you notice it is Magda.

She picks you up and, while you don't cry, you screech your discontent in her ear.

Your mouth opens and closes as you search for your dummy, only to come up empty.

"Okay," Magda says, pacing around the room and rhythmically patting your bottom," Let's try this again, princesse. You're going to have a nice sleep with no more tears."

Admittedly, you do sleep for a while and Magda dupes herself into thinking that it was this easy.

Of course, nothing's easy when you're in a mood with her because you wake up at two in the morning screeching like you've just been attacked.

Magda's awoken by your screaming and Pernille's hand wacking at her shoulder.

"The dummy's in the drawer," Pernille mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

"She's doesn't need the dummy," Magda complains as she gets out of bed," She's a big girl."

Pernille barely gives her a response, grunting and rolling over again as she pulls a pillow over her ears.

You're sitting up in your crib when Magda gets there, clutching at the bars as tears stream down your face. Your mouth opens and closes like a goldfish and your little tongue pokes out occasionally as if in search of your dummy.

You scream even louder when you notice Magda's the one that's come for you and not Pernille. You scream and you cry and Magda's tempted to just go in and get your dummy but she refuses to admit defeat.

Instead, she grabs your baby blanket and swaddles you. You struggle a little bit against her but ultimately go limp.

You've outgrown being swaddled months ago but it's Magda's only hope. You stop screaming but you're still crying and she starts pacing the length of the room, migrating to the lounge when there's not enough space.

Your crying peters off after a while and Magda doesn't really want to put you back in your crib in case you cry again.

So, she lies back on the sofa and places you on her chest.

You're not screaming anymore but you've still got a little frown on your face. At this point, Magda will take what she can get.

Your mouth opens for your dummy again.

It never comes.

Your face scrunches up in rage.

Magda knows that a fresh wave of tears will definitely wake up Pernille again (it's a miracle she managed to get back to sleep with all the noise) and she absolutely doesn't want to grab the dummy either.

So, she does the next best thing.

She shoves her finger into your mouth.

You start sucking instantly and Magda has to fight herself to not pull her fingers out. She was fine with you doing this when you were younger but now you've got teeth and she isn't really a fan of how they're scraping against her skin.

You look at her as she stares down at you.

Magda swears that you're doing this on purpose.

"This is a temporary solution," She says," Okay? You're not getting that dummy back."

You seem to understand what she's saying because you bite down on her finger before spitting it out of your mouth.

"Ow!"

You pay her no mind because you've realised that you've got fingers of your own. You manage to wrench an arm out of your swaddle and shove two fingers into your mouth.

You suck on them like you suck on your dummy.

You seem content now and happily close your eyes as you lay on Magda's chest.

"You look cosy," Pernille says.

She's standing in the doorway, still half-asleep, as she stares at the two of you on the sofa.

"She bit me!"

Pernille laughs. "That little angel? No way."

"She did! She bit me!"

"Then, maybe, you shouldn't have taken her dummy."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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nunalastor · 2 months

Note

I have a lot of ideas, mainly duckiedeer tho, so this might be long, feel free to ignore it if you don't want to read it, lmao.

One where Alastor is greyromantic, so he has never felt romantically towards anybody.

Lucifer moves in and their bickering just increases, and he does what he has always used to do with his rivals and he starts flirting with Alastor in whatever way will piss the radio demon off the most. With the time Alastor catches feelings and at first he doesn't get what they are, but after seeing the way Husk and Angel act he gets it, and he hates it. The solution? Make their bickering everyone's problem by being as loud as he can, to convince himself he still hates him and he's just confused.

Lucifer catches feelings as well a while after, he realizes after noticing the sarcastic flirting is losing the sarcasm, he tries and fails to ignore the feeling, and just increases when he goes to bed and can't help but think about Alastor's seemingly redder face, from a fairly adorable pick up line he tried earlier.

Now you have two idiots aggressively pinning like highschool girls and both very angry with themselves about it, both try to get rid of the feelings just to end up falling deeper.

This is just Alastor, you know, since he was alive during WWI, I thought maybe he fought on it. Before WWI he didn't have any immoral tendencies, he was just weird, then he fought on WWI, and the feeling of killing someone sunk on him. By the end of the war is when he actually became a serial killer.

Back to radioapple.

Charlie gave Lucifer a 50,000 piece puzzle once they finished the hotel, the picture was a mountain of rubber ducks, so you could tell it took him a lot to get any of it done since the pieces where all really similar with mainly yellow. They placed it on a big table near the bar where everyone usually hung out, so if anyone wanted to help the were welcomed to, he sat there for hours everyday for a few months trying to advance with it.

One day Alastor, pretty annoyed that the puzzle was taking all of his pathetic love interest arch nemesis’ attention, he did the only logical solution which was helping him out with the thing. This helped to:

1. Understand what was so appealing about the thing that Lucifer wasn't interested on hating him as much anymore.

2. Bicker with him as they assembled the thing.

The plan backfired, Alastor ended up loving the puzzle just as much as Lucifer, and now they have something to bond over. Neither knows how to feel about it.

Lucifer gets really depressed from time to time, and he gets nightmares.

He used to cuddle Charlie and Lilith before when this happened, but Lilith wasn't here anymore and Charlie slept with Vaggie, so he couldn't just ask to sleep with them like he was their child. So somehow he ended up on Alastor's room and cuddled up to him, and now it was just something they did every time Lucifer had nightmares, if somebody knew this happened they didn't dare to bring it up.

Subsequently, one day Alastor just came up to Lucifer and gifted him a giant Duck plushie to cuddle up to the nights he wasn't at the hotel, the duck had a duck-adapted version of Alastor's outfit and it smelled like the raio demon.

Lucifer keeps a radio hidden on his room, he listens to Alastor's broadcast when he feels low, nobody knows about this.

Alastor keeps an apple shaped ornament on his radio station where he can see it while broadcasting, Lucifer keeps an Alastor duckie on his workshop.

Giving the “Alastor gets a celestial wound after Adam's fight that can only be cured by Lucifer” trend a twist for my slowburn fan ass, Lucifer takes several days to heal Alastor's wound, at first, he doesn't let Lucifer come near his body, which only slows the process, but then theystart bonding and he slowly starts to let Lucifer make physical contact with him, first they are quick touches through his clothes, then he let's Lucifer linger his hand directly over his wound.

Alastor drags Lucifer to overlord meetings, Rosie is delighted to meet him the first time he goes to one, then the three of them just have their own private conversation while ignoring wherever topic is being discussed that day.

Husk asks Angel out solely because he sees how pathetic Alastor and Lucifer look pinning on eachother like that, and refuses to look life that himself.

10.

Lucifer and Alastor leave gifts in eachother's rooms on increasingly unhinged places (e.g: inside the pillows, taped to the ceiling) Alastor makes a point to leave them on tall places as well, with petty notes attached on them (e.g: Bambi looking ass). They deny the gifts being actually meaningful, despite the presents being sweet (e.g: chocolates, books, scented candles with eachother's favorite smells).

11.

Lucifer loves sweet and sour flavors (chocolate milk, apple juice, sour candy), while Alastor prefers salty and bitter (black coffee, unsweetened tea, chips). They hate on each other's tastes, but secretly try some of the other's favorite foods out of curiosity.

I'm going to stop there because otherwise this thing will go on forever :3.

🔥 so many!!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer morningstar #alastor #headcanon

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urf1lterr · 1 year

Text

afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

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