#neon j x reader

[dangeroushologramcolor]

Being Neon J's daughter :

He and his wife always wanted to start a family, but his obligations in the army make it difficult.

When he was called for the border war, he asked the hospital to conserve some samples of his genetic material, so their dream can become true if something happened to him.

The war was unforgivable and murderous, but the thought of finally coming home to his dear wife, settle down and having children kept his spirit up.

After his warship was bombarded, he lost his crew and most of his body. He miraculously survived, but the majority of his body must have been replaced by robotic parts.

When he came back, his wife was crying of relief and pain. Seeing her husband in this state, but alive, put her emotions into a roller-coaster.

After his comeback, they decided to have a child.

The pregnancy goes well, they learnt that they'll be the parents of an adorable daughter. Everything was so perfect. If only it would last forever.

But fate had other plans.

His wife didn't survive the birth, leaving you and your father.

Neon J was devastated, why life must be so cruel. Giving him great joy then pulling him into misery.

But he must be strong. It only you two now, he must be strong for you, to protect you, to make sure his dear wife rest in peace, knowing both of you live in happiness.

It's a this moment he created the first models of 1010.

His passion always was music and dance. So, now that his military carrier is behind him, he'll become the next star of Vinyl City.

You were there when he taught the first models how to dance and sing. It wasn't very good. But your 3 years old self found it funny and loved to clap her hand in rhythm.

The second version of the 1010 was more human like and a little less army lookalike. They were better, but still not very popular because of their looks. And the five of them look perfectly the same, so people didn't really see the point of a band make of only one people multiplied.

The idea of making them in different colors went from you. You sticked stickers on them, with an unique color for each of them. It helped you to remember who was who. You father found the idea brilliant.

And so were made the third generation of 1010. You big brothers.

You loved them, and they loved you. Neon J was so proud of his little family. He hoped his dear wife could see that from where she is.

You takes part of 1010 training routine. You love dancing and your father is an excellent teacher.

You go to Vinyl City Elementary School, but your dream is to go to the military school. The only problem is that your father is formally against it. He refuses that you get enrolled in the army.

It really upset you, but you will prove to your father that you are strong enough to become at great general, like him.

If only you know he refuse because he's scared of what could happen to you. He doesn't want you to go though what he did.

He's kind of protective, sometimes too much.

Your brothers have a protocol named "Y/n's protection" coded deep inside them.

When Neon J isn't here to give them orders, you are the one who gives them orders.

They are not obligated to listen to them, but you're so cute when you act like that. And you never disrespect them, you they play along.

Since your brothers have a sailor uniform, you asked your dad one too.

How can he resist those puppy eyes when you asked him so sweetly "Can I have my own uniform too dad, please."

Now, you look like your brothers!

But you refused to wear the hat. You find it ridiculous.

Your dad works a lot, to the point of exhaustion. So when you saw him sleeping against his desk, you stole his coat and his captain hat and decided to supervised the concert for him.

You are 9 years old. You can do that. And your brothers agree with you. Your dad really need to rest.

You're not afraid of those rock revolutionaries. Let them come, they will see what 1010 is made of.

They will pay for what they have done to your friends' family. And for making Lady Tatiana angry.

They better have come with their tactical thermals goggles, because-

YOU'RE GONNA BRING THE HEAT!

#neon j #neon j nsr #nsr x reader #neon j x reader #x child reader #no straight roads #1010 #1010 nsr #no straight roads 1010 #rin 1010 #haym 1010 #1010 eloni #1010 zimelu #1010 purlhew #neon j no straight roads #tw:death #tw:birth death

[instantartific]

ও Neon J x Reader Headcanons

I gave it some thought and I loved the idea. Here you go, fans of this absolute dork. Eat up.

The rest is put under a readmore, because I needed to cut it in half! Be sure to open it; the ending's sweet.

~

The only way to get anywhere near him is through NSR, or on those once-in-a-blue-moon occasions where he'll spend maybe an hour, two at most, hanging out at an, er... "not for kids" club that's surely hidden off somewhere in that district. Dragging a gang of misfits around everywhere he goes gets a bit stressful. He deserves some 'me' time, when schedule allows it.

You'd never find him more than slightly tipsy on a bad day. Liquor isn't exactly good for his already terrible health, and besides, (as much as he hates to admit it, he can't touch a drop without already feeling buzzed,) he needs to get himself home in one piece. He goes there for the sake of conversation more than anything.

He's not always partying. While he is a child in his mid-forties, he's aware that not everything needs to be "his kind of a good time." The kids haven't gotten that yet. Which is why sometimes he's just exhausted.

In his down time, it's like meeting someone completely different. He's still a child, don't get me wrong, but he's a lot quieter.

The way he loves reflects this, in a way. Neon's love is... slow, it's gentle. He's very gentle. He knows when to slow down and take his time and let himself drown in his softer, less common pleasures, and that includes anyone he loves. He knows how to cherish things that don't come more than once.

He's patient. If he knows what he wants, he doesn't care how long it takes. He'll go any speed you want.

There'd be an element of a give and take of control in any relationship that he has, and has ever had, and he knows this. It doesn't even have to be said. You own him. He protects you. The smoothest way this goes is if the two of you are equal. You give him power over you, too.

When he loves someone, and loves them enough that he can wholeheartedly say to himself: this is who I want... by that point, he's already theirs. Wholly and fully. His body, his mind, it's theirs, and he couldn't be happier about it.

He's a soldier at heart and he always will be, no matter what they did to him. If he has someone to fight for, he's putty in their hands.

Call it a weakness, but you know what they say: Love is blind.

He's already died once, he'd be more than ready to die again. He's not afraid of it anymore. But, if he's being honest... he'd much rather wait around just long enough to catch another glimpse of you in some camera here or there, than run off again. Have more quiet nights he pretends to be working just to have an excuse to "talk to make the paperwork finish itself." Teaching you a few of his hobbies.

If you asked him to die for you, he would.

Though, he'd swear there's something poetic about the fact that he knows you too well.

You don't have the heart for that.

#i had Too much fun doing this. #thank you for the suggestion anon. #ive got some work to do then ill get nova next. #no straight roads #nsr #neon j #nsr neon j #neon j x reader #neon j headcanons #x reader #did not think id ever be typing those tags but here we are. #alcohol mention #ও ~ writing

[loving-apparitions]

Hey um,, I’m unsure if your asks are closed or not- but I wanted to put this here for any time your okay with doing it-

Would you mind doing DJSS (and maybe even neon J) with an S/O that has issues with low self asteem/wanting to live? I don’t mind if you don’t get to this, or it’s too dark to do— I just have been having problems with these for a while now and I’d be extremely greatful for this as comfort :”)

DJSS:

He has lots of cosmic, poetic phrases to give you anytime you’re feeling down (many of them come from what he’s had to tell himself).

“This universe is over 13 billion years old, made of billions upon trillions of tiny, tiny little atoms. In all that time, with all that matter, do you realize how extremely unlikely it is for an individual life to be made? For you to exist, as you are? You beat all odds just to be here. Isn’t that amazing? Isn’t it a gift that you are on this Earth?”

He makes an effort to praise you whenever he can. He does appreciate you, after all, and it really is very special that he could meet you in this vast universe. He makes sure to express how loved you are.

If anyone is making you feel shitty? Nothing but insults for them. According to DJSS, anyone who looks down on you is clearly a closed-minded imbecile. They’re not worth your time.

As for you thinking poorly of yourself on your own, well in that case he says you just need to learn to see yourself better. You already are a radiant treasure, you’re just having trouble seeing that. One day, he hopes, it won’t be so difficult.

If you’re in the public eye at all, he tries to shield you from criticism. Usually in the form of blocking and reporting haters online, or physically shielding you from onlookers as you travel. On the other hand, every time someone is praising you, he likes to show it to you - holding his phone out to you with positive comments on social media, or quietly pointing at someone staring at you starstruck.

When you're feeling low, he wraps you in his arms and holds you close. He'll stay cuddled with you for as long as it takes for your mood to lift.

He usually stops you if you begin to hurt yourself. If that's saying something negative about yourself, he interjects with an objection or a contrasting compliment. If you have a habit of doing anything physically destructive, he takes both your hands in his and directs your attention elsewhere.

"Life is a fleeting thing, so short in eternity. I'd like to spend as much of mine with you as possible."

You actually get him to start paying attention to all the little beauties of life. He tends to be caught up more in the big picture, but as he's done to know you he's started focusing on how precious life is. It is pretty impressive that people made the buildings around you, isn't it? A cozy shirt really is something to be happy about, isn't it?

He tends to treat himself a lot, and so he treats you, and especially he gives you little gifts if he thinks it will help. You deserve happiness after all.

And if you are insecure about your appearance? "Who cares?" He asks bluntly. It's a house for your mind, as long as you feel good and healthy in it, what does it matter what anyone thinks? He thinks you l're attractive anyways, no way is a change to your appearance going to turn him away.

.

Neon J:

He often pulls you into activities. There's no time to dwell on dark thoughts if you're busy, he reasons. So he frequently invites you to join him for fun or for errands. Sometimes it's not so much an invite as it is him just showing up and saying "Get ready we're doing this, you have 10 minutes."

His ideal choice for an activity is something creative. It doesn't matter if it's new to you or how good you are at it. Neon finds that having an outlet and evidence that you've been working helps to pull you out of what-ifs.

Draw, write, sing, whatever. Neon encourages you to do it passionately and not give up until it's done. And then, you can look at it and say "I made this."

He isn't one to voice his own self doubts much anyways, but he's on extra alert to not talk down about himself around you. He doesn't want his problems to worsen yours.

If you're ever doubting his love for you, Neon sits you down and takes your hands in his. "Look at me," he'd say before telling you there's a hundred reasons he thinks most people wouldn't like him. But you don't see flaws in him. So why would he see so much wrong with you? Is it so hard to believe that the love you feel for others can be felt for you?

"I'm glad I'm still alive. That I survived to meet you. That you're alive now, here, with me. If you can't stick around for yourself yet, do it because I'm not done loving you. Someday you'll be glad you did."

He assures you that all of his compliments directed at you are genuine. He really thinks you're wonderful, inside and out, and he'll tell you that as much as he needs to until you believe it.

"Just one more day," he tells you when you're having a really rough day. "Just get through today and then see what tomorrow brings."

He gives you a lot of surprises - material gifts, tasty food, fun experiences. Breaking up monotony has helped him before, so he hopes that it will help you as well. He can also coax you to wait for a day or two, or to complete a task, or to say something nice about yourself so that he can give a little reward.

#imagines #romantic #no straight roads x reader #no straight roads x reader romantic #neon j x reader #neon j x reader romantic #dj subatomic supernova x reader romantic #dj subatomic supernova x reader #depressive thoughts

[sdr2lovemail]

marry me neon j!!!

His radar pings in surprise. “How forward!” 

After the initial shock of being proposed to die down, Neon J brings a hand to where his chin would be. His screen shifts left to right as he looks you over. “Hmmm, I’m not seeing a ring.” 

A single finger taps against the glass screen that makes his face. “Traditionally, one would bring a ring to a marriage proposal.” 

With a snap of his fingers, he looks back at you. “This must be a new tactic. A surprise attack~!”

His back straightens as he brings his arms behind his back. “However, I must turn your offer down as we have just met. Besides, you shouldn’t try to be with an old man like me. I’m afraid my relationship days may be up.” He wistfully sighs.

“Though you will find your perfect match one day! Then you can try your surprise attack proposal on them. Perhaps with a ring this time.”

#character interaction event #neon j x reader #no straight roads x reader #nsr x reader #no straight roads #neon j #x reader #self insert

[archonsabyss]

Thinking of accidentally dyeing Satoru's hair a bright neon pink. He practically bolts out of the shower naked, heaving, and in utter disarray as he stares at you wide-eyed. The first thing he asks, "I'm still attractive right? Because this shit is permanent so you gotta still love me like this. RIGHT?" He's acting as if you're not the culprit behind his bizarre hair. I mean─ you can't deny he looks good. But maybe you should have toned down the coloring just a tiny bit because now there's uneven splotches, some areas lighter than the rest. "Hey, atleast you won't stand out anymore than when you had white hair" You'd sheepishly reply trying to minimize your horrid mistake but there's no use. Satoru knows despite loving him, you'd rather be caught dead than with his funky new hair do out in public. You weren't that brave and bold.

"Maybe we should shave it" Satoru is horrified at your suggestion but it doesn't stop there, "Maybe get a wig too.." And he's smothering you with a hug, the overwhelming intoxication of chemicals and dye evading your nostrils. "You did this to me now you gotta live with the consequences" And by consequences, Satoru means clinging to you in public and purposesly waltzing around with his head held high and his pink hair drawing even more attention to himself and inevitably you. And a tiny smidge of you is just grateful Satoru is handsome enough that he can.. actually pull it off. But you refuse to admit it to his face because you certainly can't feed his already inflated ego anymore. He'd become even more insufferable than he currently was <3

Bonus : ^ The power he holds tho

©@archonsabyss

#˚ ⁀🜙˚ raie (j)jk #OMG IM SO RANDOM #I would so dye it a neon green after #and just when he thinks you're done traumatizing his scalp and his hair is atleast decent #Nah uh babes we got a whole rainbow to go through #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk drabbles #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk shibuya arc #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen memes #jjk memes

[smittenroses]

Hi everyone! This is an announcement for a revamped version of my popular series 7 Minutes in Musical Heaven - henceforth known as A Muse in You.

It was a tough decision to either rewrite every chapter and keep the same plot - while also getting rid of the chapters people have come to love - or to create another story and do an entire overhaul. I decided to do number 2. The reason I did this is because I didn't want to erase an important part of my history for so many in the fandom while also keeping something I can look back on and be happy.

A Muse in You will contain more adult themes and the wonderful beta team I have scraped together behind the scenes has so far been amazing to work with, because of the more adult themes and tone I will be taking in the fic, I will not be publishing Muse chapters directly to the blog.

You can currently find the beginning chapter and Tatiana's solo chapter over on AO3, if a chapter has any potentially triggering content I will list it in the notes before the chapter begins.

Thank you so much everyone, and stay rocking.

— A Muse in You

#x reader #no straight roads #gender neutral reader #nsr #nsr x reader #nsr mayday x reader #nsr zuke x reader #nsr tatiana x reader #nsr djss #nsr neon j x reader #nsr eve x reader #nsr 1010 x reader #nsr 1010 #nsr kliff #nsr dk west

[nostraightheadcanons]

neon j x reader headcanons?

☆ Neon J X Reader Headcanons ☆ Since I'm not sure what you wanted I went with general Hcs about him falling in love, left it on a small kliffhanger ☆ Neon J never expected to fall in love again, after all these years of keeping his heart locked away he didn’t think it was possible to be so vulnerable around another. He didn’t believe anyone would see him like that. After the Border Wars and how he was turned into a Cyborg left a lot to desire. He wasn’t the man he used to be and had become at peace with the fact that he’d be alone till the end of his days. Because who could love the shell of the man he is today? That is until he met Y/N ☆ The romance between them would definitely be a slow burn for sure as the two got to know each other. Subtle glances that almost get caught by the other, touches that linger just a second more. So many little things that tugged at his heart strings, so many reasons to want to stay by their side even longer. Something about them was hypnotic, was it how their smile brightened the room? Or how their laughter sent his heart a flutter? Their happiness and joy was almost infectious he couldn’t help but find himself shine brighter with them ☆ Though he’s a busy man, he’d always manage to make time for them. There wasn’t a subtle bone in his body left to hide the way he felt about them. It was obvious to everyone, except himself. Ironic how the manager of 1010 can’t even notice when he himself has fallen head over heels. Without even noticing he wore their favorite color, hummed their favorite songs. Little things that reminded him of them. Just little things to brighten their day. Each day found a reason to love them just a bit more, each day past their bond grew stronger. ☆ 1010 would be the first to notice, like Neon J they’re not exactly subtle themselves. Finding ways to make sure Y/N somehow and mysteriously always keep running into each other. Next would the other NSR charters finding out about them both and how the two were oblivious to one another’s advances. It was amusing to see them both fumble about, dancing around their feelings. They’d surely tease Neon about it, he’d deny his feelings because there’s a part of him deep down that's scared they’ll reject him ☆ Though he had so many reasons to love you, he had so many reasons to be scared. He wasn’t like 1010, he wasn’t handsome or charming. He was anything from the ideal he had created. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t stop his heart from falling for them. He had written songs about love and how the heart could yearn for another, years of song writing and performances yet he couldn’t put it into words how he felt about them. Scrunched up papers, balled up confessions, how could he even admit to them about how he felt? Thrown away lyrics, pieced together into song. Orchestrated the way he felt about them, words straight from the heart they spoke of the many ways they captured his heart. Over and over again. Each little thing, each little way that they plucked the strings of heart and turned them into a melody. A song that would fall on deaf ears. But not if 1010 could help it! Unknown to Neon J, 1010 were cooking up quite the plan for Y/N to finally hear their Captain’s confession. They were going to be the ultimate wingmen of course!

#Mod Nine #nsr #nsr headcanons #nsr hcs #nsr x reader #nsr neon j #neon j #no straight roads #no straight roads headcanons #no straight roads x reader #sorry they're a little messy aaa

[thecupcakewritesmorethings]

A TWO-FER

Both Robbie White is a Little Rapscallion and Tinkering with Tin Soldiers have updates! :D

If you like what I do, and want to support me: please consider dropping by my patreon! Patrons at any level get access to my stories a day in advanced and have more say in what I work on, when!

#Tinkering with Tin Soldiers #Neon J x-reader #NSR #no straight roads #No straight roads fanfiction #Identity V #identity v fanfiction

[gyuswhore]

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« 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, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 

“Hey, it’s good.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.” 

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 

“How far are you with that one?” 

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 

“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.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 

But you don’t. 

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 

“It’s not about that.” 

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 

“What’re you doing here?” 

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 

You really needed a new car. 

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  

“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 

You had forgotten your book. 

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 

[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses. 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 

You needed to leave. 

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 

“Let me drop you off home.” 

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 

“Did you bring it with you?” 

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 

 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 

“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 

He’s silent. 

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 

No response. 

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 

“Hey!” 

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

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

[nolita-fairytale]

your past and mine are parallel lines | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: a run-in with an old friend sparks a conversation between you and carmy of the people you loved before each other. or rather, the one in which you meet claire.

warnings: use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, not-your-normal jealousy fic, soft!carmy, lives in the world of make my heart surrender

wc: 3.9k

a/n: ok so hear me out: i just want to write about healthy relationships right now and that is where i'm at. this is not your normal jealousy fic and i hope you still enjoy! this lives in the world of 'make my heart surrender' because of course it does and takes place a month after my oneshot, j is for j beard and jealousy.

masterlist

It begins with forgotten carrots, tops attached, of course – a necessary ingredient to the dish that you’ve been working on all afternoon together. Usually, you’d go for a rainbow bunch, but for the puree, aesthetically of course, the classic orange carrot is much better suited. You’d hadn’t put them on the grocery list the day before, certain that you had a bunch or two at home sitting in your vegetable drawer, only to find mid-recipe development that you did not, in fact, have carrots at home. It doesn’t take long for Carmy to suggest a quick trip to the store, insisting that you come with him because this is a date, after all. 

It’s something you and Carmy have decided to do, now that neither of you are needed at the restaurant 24/7: a cooking date at home which, despite the fact that this date night was an idea born out of both of your desires to introduce more fun into your lives, will inevitably become a dish that Carmy tries to put on the menu anyways.

Divide and conquer is the strategy: while you hit up the produce aisle, Carmy is sent on a mission to procure a bottle of orange wine for dinner later tonight. 

But what’s supposed to be a simple Saturday afternoon grocery store run takes a turn for the intriguing as you hear a laugh – a woman’s laugh – and the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s voice muttering something about the name of his restaurant.

As you approach, you spot your boyfriend and the woman he’s found himself in a conversation with. Carmy leans against the refrigerator doors, his chest square to the brunette, bathed in neon blues from the refrigerator lights. 

“Because you’re the bear. And I remember you,” you hear her say. You observe carefully, the look of surprise and the blush that runs across Carmy’s cheeks in response to her words are not lost on you. 

There’s a palpable energy between them as they converse, and it feels as if all the blood is rushing to your head as you cut the tension with a single: 

“Hey.” 

As the brunette turns to you, you’re only a little taken aback by how beautiful she is. With long, thick, dark hair, she has piercing blue eyes, similar to the ones you’ve found yourself lost in in your years spent loving Carmen Berzatto. You feel almost silly as you stand there, holding a bunch of carrots in your right hand, suddenly grateful that your have your favorite of Carmy’s denim jackets tied around your waist (for “just in case the store’s got the AC blasting,” Carmy had reminded you before you left the house earlier). 

“Hi,” is all she replies, an almost too-friendly smile plastered to her face, as she takes a few steps towards you. “I’m Claire. I’m…” She trails off before stealing a glance over at Carmy before continuing with, “...an old friend. Of Carmy’s.” As the woman called Claire extends a hand out to you, you take it, giving her hand a curt shake as you introduce yourself. 

It dawns on Carmy, who has slipped into a state of what can only be considered as shock, that he probably should’ve introduced the two of you sooner as he mutters an apology under his breath. 

“Shit, yeah, sorry. I probably should’ve-. I uh, um, Claire. Yeah. This is uh, this is my girlfriend,” Carmy manages to get out, his face growing increasingly deeper shades of red as the words tumble out of his mouth. 

“Your-? Wow, oh my god! It’s-it’s so nice to meet you,” Claire replies, trying her best to hide the surprise in her voice as it increases in pitch with every word. 

“So… what’re you two up to-?” she begins to ask, looking from you to Carmy with wide, quizzical eyes. “Carrots. We’re uh…,” is the first thing that comes to mind as the words fly from your lips. “... buying carrots.” 

You realize how stupid it sounds, completely caught off guard, as you scramble to find any word in the English language that doesn’t sound as ridiculous as what you’ve just said. 

You wonder if this is how Carmy felt when you ran into Nate at the James Beard Awards about a month ago. 

At this rate, something’s gotta be in retrograde, right? you think to yourself as you try to push down your feelings of embarrassment. 

“Right,” Carmy mutters, while Claire tries to get the conversation back on track. 

“Well, it’s really good to see you, Bear. Really. I’ll have to stop by the restaurant sometime,” she says, preparing to excuse herself. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods, still avoiding as much direct eye contact as possible. 

Bear.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, and yet, you can’t help the feeling that wells inside of you as she says the name. 

The family name. 

His childhood name. 

It feels more intimate than it should, and maybe it is. 

You swallow, trying to shake the feeling. 

“Yes. Yeah, we’d uh… let us know. When you’re there,” you continue, exchanging a look with Carmy, who only nods along. 

“Oh, you’re a-, you work there too? At the restaurant,” Claire asks, eyeing the carefully drawn fruits and veggies that adorn the length of your arms, permanently inked there forever. 

“Yeah. Uh. Pastry chef,” you reply with a small laugh. 

She nods, almost as if she’s accepted an unspoken agreement – something you’re not sure you’ll ever know. 

“Well it was nice to meet you,” she says once more, shooting a soft smile in your direction, before excusing herself. “And it’s good to see you, Carmy.” 

As you watch Claire walk away, Carmy’s still frozen inside of what he thinks could be the most awkward experience of his month so far. 

“So… that was weird,” you say, as you turn towards your boyfriend. He mutters something in agreement because the only thing he can think of to say is, what the fuck just happened. 

And he’s barely figured that out. 

“Do… you want to talk about it?” you ask skeptically, dragging out the ‘o’ at the beginning of your question. 

“Not really,” he mumbles softly, shaking his head. 

“Great, me either,” you’re quick to reply, even though you both know that you’re going to have to talk about this eventually. 

—-------------------------------------

It seems to be a day of forgetfulness, as Carmy realizes that he’s left his notebook at the restaurant – something he’s been working out of for any and all new ideas, a habit you think he picked up from Syd. It’s not entirely out of the way, so the two of you decide to stop by on the way home. You enter through the back, hoping to skirt the tongue lashing you’ll both get for coming in – even just for a few minutes – on your day off. 

But a hall-pass just isn’t in the cards for either of you, as you’re instantly spotted, arm-in-arm, by Richie who’s just ended the pre-dinner shift all hands meeting. 

“It’s your day off! Get the fuck outta here,” Richie calls out to you with a shake of his head. “You two. I swear.” 

“I just forgot my notebook. We’re in, then we’re out. I swear!” Carmy defends himself, holding up his hands. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie dismisses him before issuing a warning with a wag of his finger. “You better not stay longer than five minutes, you got that?” 

“In and out. Scout’s honor,” you answer, before the abrupt interjection of Fak’s voice stops you from saying anything else. 

“Incomiiiiiiiing!” Fak cries, as he bursts through the doors. “Ahhhh man. Hey Carm! I heard you ran into Claire Bear.” 

Claire Bear?

You shoot Carmy a quizzical look that he’s more than eager to avoid. 

“The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Richie snaps as Carmy simultaneously lets out as: “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. What do you-? How? Already?!” “Fuck it’s been two fuckin’ seconds,” Carmy grits his teeth, trying his best to answer Richie’s question. “But apparently news travels fast.” He shoots you an apologetic look as he explains, “She’s uh… close family friends with the Faks.” 

“Ahhh,” you let out. “She seem good? Bet she was glad to see ya,” Fak inquires, overenthusiastically winking in Carmy’s direction. 

“Yeah she’s uh… she’s gonna be a doctor in a few months huh?” Carmy replies, trying his best to avoid Fak’s continuous winks. 

“Who the fuck is Claire?” Sydney asks, as she enters the conversation. Syd quickly notices the confused look on your face, in contrast to the embarrassed one on Carmy’s, and a more than eager Fak, much to Richie’s dismay. 

It’s as if he can read the situation in one look as Richie cuts in this time with an explanation:

“Will you stop it, fucko? Jesus Christ.” Richie turns his attention to you this time as shakes his head, brushing off Fak’s earlier comment. “She’s just a kid from the neighborhood. That’s all.” 

“Just a kid from the neighborhood?! You, Richie, you are not nice!” Fak exclaims. 

But Richie is faster, quick to dismiss the man as he cuts him off with a few sharp words about fixing his bowtie before dinner service starts. As they bicker back and forth, trading barbs like brothers, Carmy has returned to his ‘I really don’t want to talk about this’ body language, his shoulders slumped and completely avoiding eye contact. 

“Okay. Um…. Raise your hand if you’re off the clock but you’re acting really fuckin’ weird right now,” Sydney says, looking from you to Carmy, and then back to you. 

“I…” you try your best to explain to no avail – mostly because you’re not sure what to explain yet. 

“We should go. Let’s get out of here, yeah?” you propose, directing your attention towards Carmy again. You’re more than happy to be met with a nod as Carmy excuses himself, darting into his office to retrieve the notebook he came here for in the first place. 

You can tell that he’s not ready to talk about it, and after the weirdness today, you’re beginning to wonder more and more about this Claire girl. Carmy had never mentioned an ex-girlfriend. You knew that there were short-lived flings here and there throughout his twenties, but by the time you met him, it was just you and him, trapped inside your little bubble of denial and unspoken feelings until you weren’t. 

Claire doesn’t quite seem like an ex, but you could feel that she wasn’t just a girl from the neighborhood that Carmy grew up with either. 

“You good?” Sydney asks, immediately noticing your discomfort. 

“Yes,” you answer, unconvincingly. “Sooooo….?” Sydney begins to ask. 

So what’s going on? So what was that all about? 

“Girl, I will let you know when I know,” you answer, shooting her a matching look. 

“Godspeed, my friend,” Sydney replies with a salute, eliciting a much needed laugh from you. “I’m gonna get back to work but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you nod, trying your best to shake off this weird feeling. 

As you watch her go, you’re too caught up in the what-the-fuck-ness of it all that you barely notice as Richie approaches. 

“You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart?” Richie asks you, interrupting the thoughts swimming around in your head. 

“No yeah. I-, he’ll tell me when he’s ready,” you reply, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. 

“You ready?” you hear Carmy ask. 

“Yeah,” you nod, before giving Richie a small smile because his reassurance means a lot. “Thanks, Richie.” 

As you wave goodbye, Carmy takes your hand before leading you out of the restaurant and en route towards home. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, filled with things left unsaid. It’s more of an awkward kind of tension as Richie’s words echo in your head: 

You know you got nothin’ to worry about, right, sweetheart? 

It means more to you than he knows – that Richie is in your corner. It’s not like the two of you are best friends, but you have a mutual understanding that you’ve been good for Carmen ever since you reentered his life. 

You’ve become a patient woman, knowing that, most of the time, Carmy has to come to you on his own time. You trust him wholeheartedly, and you trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It just doesn’t help the anticipation that’s been building inside of you all afternoon. 

“You know. We’re gonna have to talk about this eventually,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 

“Yeah,” Carmy answers quietly, giving your hand a confident squeeze. And if it’s a promise, he adds, “Yeah, I know.”

—-------------------------------------

You’re barely paying attention to George Clooney’s portrayal of a former raider turned newspaper columnist of a fox, entirely distracted by your game of cat and mouse that you play with Carmy and his attention. You can feel his eyes on you as you take another sip from your wine glass, the funky and sour notes hitting your tongue as he watches you closely, your head hazy from getting towards the end of the second glass.  

Carmy sighs, shifting his body position, as if choosing the comfiest position will embolden him to tell you what’s been on his mind.

He lets out yet another sigh, this one much heavier than the last and you know he’s working up the nerve. 

You cradle your wine glass in your hands, giving the last of the orange elixir a swirl as you settle into the couch, your back pressed against the arm of it as you stretch your legs out in front of you. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask him, and he lets out one last sigh of relief, almost as if he’s been waiting for you to ask. 

“Uh… yeah, actually,” Carmy admits, hesitantly.

You’ve been waiting for him to get here, taking in the vulnerable look on his face as he searches for the words he thinks will best convey what he wants to say. “So… there was like… someone… before me, yeah?” Carmy drags out, his face soft as he asks you a question that takes you by surprise. 

You let out what can only be described as a laugh and a sob as you reply with: 

“What do you mean?” you choke out, the laugh that escapes your body providing much needed relief. 

It’s not what you expected. That’s for sure. 

“You know…” he trails off, before taking another deep breath because as much as he hates to admit it, it’s really the only example he’s got. “Like… I know… about Nate.” “Nate?!” you exclaim with an even bigger laugh. “Bear, are you… are you asking me about my exes?” 

“Uh… yeah…” he admits on an exhale, almost embarrassed to be asking. “I guess uh-, I guess I am.” In his bashfulness, you giggle, reaching out to give his arm a squeeze as you begin to understand that he’s ready to talk about what happened in the grocery store. 

Carmy takes a breath, and you watch his posture soften.

“Well, Nate barely counts as an ex. I don’t… That was more of a… one-time mistake kind of thing,” you admit, knowing that it wasn’t all that long ago that Carmy found out about it in the first place. 

“Right,” Carmy nods, his gaze focused on his knees for a moment because even though he brought it up, he’d really like to stop talking about Nate right about now. 

“But!” you begin, trying your best to meet him where he’s asking you to. “The guy I dated… right before I met you, Alec was… definitely someone I consider an ex. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah um… we were together for two years… just before I started working at our old spot,” you begin, willing to give him as much information as he wants. “So why didn’t it work out?” Carmy asks curiously. 

“I don’t know, babe. I racked my brain trying to figure that one out a ton when we first broke up,” you sigh, uncertain of how to answer that question. You take your time choosing to be as honest as possible in your explanation. “I think… I don’t know. He was never as sure about me as I was of him.”

“We were great together, y’know? He was kind, and smart… he made me laugh… And we were really happy together for a long time. I mean, I think we were exactly what each other needed as the people we were in that time of our lives,” you explain, elaborating on what really worked in your relationship with Alec. 

“But eventually, none of that stuff really mattered because all I wanted was to be with someone who felt as crazy about me as I did about them, you know? And… he wasn’t… entirely sure.” 

Carmy lets out a deep breath as he takes your words in. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, as he feels the weight of your words. “I guess… well, I guess I didn’t know about all that.” 

“Well, I didn’t exactly tell you,” you shrug. 

Carmy thinks it over, wondering why he never asked you about your broken heart back then – not that he was ever really good about that kind of stuff  – the talking about feelings kind of stuff, and whatnot. 

But he wants to be good at it now. Or, at least he’d like to try. He wants to try to be good at it for you. 

“Guy’s a fuckin’ loser,” Carmy comments, a bitterness in his voice as he does. “I can’t imagine it.” 

“Hm?” 

“Not being crazy about you,” he answers, his tone confident as his eyes catch yours. 

Your heart flutters with the way he looks at you, and between his words and his certainty about you, you can’t regret the past – not even a little bit. 

“It’s okay, Bear,” you reassure him, and you mean it. “If Alec and I had stayed together… well, you and I never would’ve….” 

“Danced around each other for over two years?” Carmy points out letting out a dry laugh. “Right,” you chuckle in agreement, with a playful eye roll. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

“We’re here now. Isn’t that what’s important?” you ask with a shrug and a half smile. 

This time, his tone much more serious, Carmy answers with a, yeah, that feels heavier than the previous ones. 

You and Carmy both take a beat, letting the reality of your life with each other sink in. It’s as if all the ‘no’s of the past lead you here to this moment, and you’d have it no other way. 

“So. Who… is Claire?” you ask, earning a groan from Carmy as he swears under his breath with a shake of his head. You stretch out your leg, just enough to poke him with your big toe as he chuckles, wanting nothing more than to avoid this question. 

“It’s just… well you’ve never really told me about any of your exes!”

“Well she’s not really… my ex,” Carmy blushes, averting his gaze once again. 

“Well, she doesn’t really seem like just a friend,” you point out, and it suddenly feels like you’re showing your entire hand. Carmy agrees with you on an exhale, reminding himself that he wants to try the whole ‘better at talking about feelings’ thing with you. 

“Okay. Uh… well… we’ve known each other for like… forever, I guess,” Carmy begins to explain running a hand through his curls. “Her family is close with the Faks and I-, I-, uh… well, I sort of… had this massive crush on her… like all throughout school.” 

“What?” you ask, genuinely curious about his sudden coyness. 

“It’s embarrassing!” he defends himself, with a dry laugh. 

“Carmy, it’s not!” you insist, sitting up straight this time to reach for his hand. “Was it weird for you? Earlier today?” 

“Uh. Kinda, yeah,” he confesses, stealing a glance your way. 

“Yeah?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Like… a lot. Was that… not obvious?” he shoots back, this time with a shake of his head. “I just-. I don’t know. It was weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” you ask again, patiently. “Just… weird, babe,” Carmy answers honestly with a shrug of his own. 

You nod in understanding, wanting to give him the space to share more if he’d like to. It’s not that you were worried about Claire… but it had been weird, earlier today – and even stranger when no one was giving you a proper explanation. “I-, I-, it’s like. I had such a big crush on her. And I could barely work up the nerve to talk to her like… I was sort of just this-, this total fuckin’ loser,” Carmy continues, his eyes narrowing as he talks about a younger version of himself. “And now here I am… with my super hot girlfriend and I just-. I don’t know. It sorta uh… reminded me of like… a different version of myself.” 

“Yeah, no, I-, I get that. It’s… it’s such a weird feeling,” you empathize, exchanging a look with your boyfriend this time. 

You nod in understanding, only to be met with a laugh and another shake of his head as Carmy lets out a sigh of relief. “You’re being like… waaaaay too cool about this,” he points out, his voice lighter this time. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Uh. Fuck yeah,” Carmy confirms, as you exchange a laugh. He shrugs once again, only a little embarrassed as he adds, “You know… I just… I kinda lost my fuckin’ mind. You know. About Nate.” You shrug, “That’s different. I-.” A beat. “Do you want me to be jealous?” “No,” Carmy answers. A beat. “Maybe?” And another. “I-, I don’t know. This is all so new to me!” 

“Carm,” you sigh, as you lean over, placing your wine glass down on the coffee table before scooting closer to your boyfriend as you continue. “You and I have been through so much together and there were days that I thought we’d never speak again… but somehow we still ended up here.” 

He grabs your hands, pulling you in closer towards him as you meet him pound for pound–all heart on both sides. 

“I trust you,” you reassure him, your fingers sliding perfectly between his. “And I know I have your heart… ‘cos I know you got mine.” 

“Ffffffuck,” Carmy exhales, in complete disbelief that you really are being too cool about this. “Seriously?!” 

You laugh, incredulously this time, as you decide to give your boyfriend just a little of what he may be looking for. “No, but. It did-, it was weird for me… today. With Claire. And then later at the restaurant when Fak brought her up. I mean… you weren’t lying. News traveled fast,” you admit, much to Carmy’s relief. 

“Neighborhood’s small. That’s for sure,” he agrees, equally uncomfortable with how quickly that got around. 

“And… She is like… really pretty. And… what? About to be a doctor so I guess that means she’s really fuckin’ smart. I mean-,” you continue. 

It doesn’t take Carmy long to realize that you’re trying too, deciding it’s best to put you out of your misery sooner rather than later as he cuts you off with a playful, “Oh shut the fuck up.” 

It’s your turn to laugh this time as you lean in, pressing your lips to his. 

Carmy inhales, breathing you in as he tries to memorize the way you smell, the way you taste, the way your lips feel nestled so perfectly against his. He pulls away just for a moment, intent on telling you something. 

“You do, by the way,” Carmy says, his declaration soft but sure. “Have my heart, I mean.”

“I know, babe,” you reply, with a smile. “I know.”

—-------------------------------------

a/n: if you've been wondering where i've been, i've been here! just living a whole lot of life offline these days. would anyone be interested in reading my thoughts on life? anyways, i feel like a hiatus was good for me, and now i have all this life i've lived that's inspired me to write again. i've been channeling a lot of my creative energy into other projects which has felt great and it also feels really good to be back.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff

[star-suh]

DJ

Lee Jeno x Male Reader

cw: angst attempt, fluff-ish smut, top jeno, established relationship, reconciliation sex, rimjob, blowjob, cockwarming.

—

y/n and jeno were a happy couple, days filled with smiles, hugs and kisses here and there. they were a perfect couple in the eyes of everyone around them. but that changed when jeno started to work as a dj, y/n's nights are colder now, having to eat cold food for dinner while waiting for his man to arrive, even sometimes y/n woke up sleeping on the table. 

“it's so tiring” murmured a sad y/n playing with his fingers while sitting on the couch. it's 3:33 am and it seems that jeno is not going to arrive any time soon so the guy decided to go to sleep. “morning” greeted y/n to his co-worker in the cafe “good morning y/n. want a coffee?” asked jaemin handing the cup with hot liquid to him “thank you” is the only thing he says.

jaemin is concerned about y/n he was a happy and bubbly guy but now he's like just a human shell doing things because he has to. “are you ok y/n?. you've been so cold and distant lately” he pats the other guy's back “you know, you can always count on me, right?” y/n just nodded… “it's just that i feel so tired jae… i've been trying to fix my relationship with jeno, i know he's just working but .. it feels like he's not there anymore” he sighs “i just want things to go back to the way they were before” tears starting to pool in his eyes “when i'm home he's not. dinners were the time where we connected more, we talked about ourselves and how our days were but not anymore, it was over in the blink of an eye…” jaemin hugged and comforted y/n “i’m so sorry y/n, i’m sure that you two gonna have the opportunity to talk soon and can fix this inconvenience”, “i hope so” y/n wipes his tears when the doorbell rang, a pair of girls entering.

“good afternoon, what are you going to order ladies?” jaemin took the girls' orders and went to prepare them. “did you hear there's a party tonight hosted by jackson wang?” the blonde girl tells to her friend who make a surprised face “and hot dj jeno is gonna be there too, hopefully i can sleep with him tonight” the two girls screamed and laughed while y/n listened to the conversation with a sad expression.. what if jeno doesn't need him anymore because other people can give him better things than him? “i must be overthinking” he murmured.

“goodbye jaemin” y/n waved his hand and walked away.  he unlocked his phone and searched about that party, it wasn't that hard, apparently that jackson guy is known for his eccentric parties. y/n took a taxi and went there to try to talk to jeno.

y/n was beyond surprised by the party, it was a very large mansion with beautiful gardens and colorful neon lights, y/n walked the cobbled road looking for the shirtless dj and there he was. for the first time in a while a smile appeared on y/n's face. watching how jeno was having fun made him happy too but that happiness was soon shattered by that blonde girl from before who kissed jeno.

the pretty smile dropped quickly, he can't believe what he is seeing, the love of his life kissing another person… confused he just turn around and sat on the nearest chair, failing to see how jeno pushed the girl with an annoyed expression. “please get out of my space, i have a boyfriend and i love him” were the words that came out of jeno's mouth, the girl then leaves the dj cabin with her friend.

hours have passed and y/n was emptying the liquor bottles on his table now he's getting ready to leave walking towards the exit. jeno left the cabin to go to the bathroom stumbling with an acquaintance, the love of his life. “y/n!! wha-.. what are you doing here?” the drunk guy turned around making eye contact with the taller guy “j-jeno”. it's like time around them has paused, tears started to stream down y/n's pretty eyes. jeno just hugged him, both enjoying the warm sensation of their bodies together, the warm that they both missed.

“i.. i'm so sorry y/n” said jeno. both were sitting in the bed in one of the rooms. y/n told jeno about his feelings and how he thinks jeno does not love him anymore. “that's not true y/nnie.. i really love you, you are.. you are so precious to me” he grabbed the smaller guy’s hands and put them on top of his heart “i got too immersed in my work that i didn't realize that i was leaving you aside. i'm so sorry baby you deserve so much better than this” he added.

“i understand if you want to leave me. i don't want to let you go but i was a completely asshole with you” he kissed y/n's forehead and hugged him tightly. “it's ok jeno. i’m happy that we were able to talk and work things out, this is one of the reasons why i love you." y/n commented making jeno smile. “god you're so fucking cute” jeno throws y/n onto the bed and sits on top of him, starting to kissing his neck. “i think i owe you an apology and i’m going to do it by showing how much i love you." the dj started to leave kisses everywhere. “hold on hold on.. what about the your job?” asked y/n. “don’t worry there's someone there to replace me” the older whispered.

slowly jeno discarded y/n’s clothes, making sure to always tell him how beautiful he is. mouths clashed in a desperate needy kiss, it's been a long time since they felt each other. jeno's touch leaving a burning sensation on y/n's body “you make me feel so good jeno”. “is that so? i'm about to make you feel even better then” he laughs burying his face in y/n's ass to eat his hole “hmm tasty”...

y/n started to give a blowjob to jeno while the latter plays with his tight hole “i missed this so much” a string of saliva connecting jeno's mouth to the other's ass. slowly the top introduced all his cock in the bottom's ass “so fucking tight for me” growled the taller. both make eye contact while jeno thrusted slowly, he was appreciating y/n's features being highlighted by the neon lights of the party, that perfect face, those pretty eyes, fuck such a cute guy “like what you see mr. dj?” mocked y/n. “shut up” jeno responded kissing him.

they spend the whole night fucking, they haven't done it for a long time so it worked both as a way to let out all that repressed sexual energy and as a way to reconcile. “let's cum together baby” said y/n and jeno immediately pull out and grabbed both cocks in his hands, jerking off both at the same time “fuckk~ give me that cum” grunted y/n feeling jeno's calloused hands doing friction against his cock “i'm gonna cum” a feral moan leaving jeno's mouth while jets of warm cum came out of the tip of his cock landing on y/n's face and torso while y/n's landed on jeno's torso as well.

fireworks exploded outside in front of the room's window, lighting up the room in bright pretty colors. the happy couple watching them lying on the bed in a spoon position with jeno being the big spoon so y/n can cockwarm him “i love you so much y/n.. let's be happy from now on” jeno hugged y/n tightly smooching his neck making the other giggle “i love you so much too jeno. you're the best thing that happened to me”. tired after all the sex they both just fell asleep until late in the morning when they woke up. “let's go home and eat something. i'm gonna cook” jeno says, squeezing y/n's cheek and kissing it “ok let's go” y/n replied while they walked out of the mansion holding hands.

#jeno x male reader #lee jeno x male reader #jeno x male reader smut #lee jeno x male reader smut #nct dream x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #nct x male reader #nct smut

[seasonsbloom]

dime store cowboy . hangman

PART TWO

pairing ; cowboy!jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; jake teaches you about the cowboy hat rule.

wc ; 2k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, non-explicit sexual content (it's just flirting)

note: YEEHAW PARDNERS.......... i'm so obsessed with this i'm gonna cry, thank you forever to the anon who requested this. also what if this becomes a series what then WHAT THEN. sorta modified the title from that one kacey musgraves song lol.

sol. sunderlust. you already know what i'm gonna say thank you for being my bestie :(

The whole thing is Carrie Underwood’s fault. You’ll go to your grave swearing it.

It’s just that you’re three strawberry margaritas deep, the lights in the bar are all dimmed, all neon, all flickering, and Jake is leaning into your space like he’s trying to smell your perfume, smiles at you like he’s completely charmed, and then somebody starts playing Before He Cheats on the jukebox and your brain just sorta like. Short-circuits.

The song always gives you an unwarranted burst of confidence, makes you feel like you, too, could vandalize a cheater’s car in a flurry of righteous wrath, so it’s not that difficult to reach up, lifting half out of the bar stool, face suddenly just an inch from his, and steal his hat. The fabric is surprisingly soft beneath your fingers.

At first, Jake looks surprised, his mouth twitching in amusement.

“What you trying to do with that, sugar?” he asks.

And the thing is this. You’re new in town and decidedly more urban (cosmopolitan, you’d like to say, but really, who are we kidding here?) than the rest of the crowd. It’s all a bit strange, all unfamiliar, but when your co-workers invited you out for a Friday night of drinks at the local bar, you were beyond grateful. It was supposed to be a nice little get-together among people who would hopefully become friends. You didn’t expect a guy who looks like he could be Mr. August in a calendar dedicated to half-naked hot cowboys doing various types of manual labor to walk up to you and start flirting like his life depends on it.

At least you think he’s flirting…? You’re not that well-versed in this whole thing.

You shrug, hope you look more confident than you feel.

“When I was little,” you say, turning the hat over and peeking at the inside, where a label proudly states Property of J. Seresin. You let a finger run over it, tracing the shape of his name. “I used to dream about being a cowgirl.”

You flip the hat again and put it on. It’s big enough that it goes slipping down a few inches, almost covering your eyes.

Something on Jake’s face goes taut, his gaze darkens, the fist on the bartop clenches once then relaxes.

“Did you, now?” he asks, his voice suddenly lower, and he takes a step closer. His hip knocks against your knee where you’re angled toward him, every point of your body unconsciously straining closer during the conversation. He tips the hat back an inch or two from your forehead, clearing your vision, and looks down at you, searches your face for something. “Looking good.”

He’s silhouetted by the lights of the bar, bordered by the people crowding behind him to order, but you can’t see anything past the green in his eyes. He’s pushed so close he’s almost between your legs, your thighs like open brackets around the shape of him. The hand at the brim of the hat wanders down your back slowly before settling on the backrest of your stool. It’s not even a touch, just the allusion to it, but your heart goes pitter-patter in your chest.

“Do I?” you ask, breath hitching, legs bouncing with the nerves of it all.

You just don’t do this sort of stuff. Flirting with people, letting strangers chat you up in bars, going along with the quips and the banter and the coy touches… you’re so out of your element. And even Carrie Underwood and her misplaced pep talks have deserted you now. She just threw the match, and then she hightailed it out of here. Traitor.

Jake nods. “You’re real pretty, sugar,” he says. “I especially like the hat with that dress.”

You glance down at yourself and grin. The dress is decidedly too much for a joint where everybody else seems to show up in denim or flannel. You’re just glad you skipped heels in favor of sneakers to dress the whole thing down - you would have stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of cowboy boots.

“This isn’t really… saloon appropriate, is it?”

He laughs, and the sound of it warms your chest. “Not exactly,” he agrees. “But I like it. It suits you.”

“How so?”

Jake lifts a shoulder in a shrug, something unreadable playing about his mouth. “Makes it look like you’re not from here.”

You frown and ask, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Sugar,” Jake chuckles, and the sound of that stupid, ridiculous pet name sends a shiver down your back, “that’s just about the highest compliment I could ever give a girl.”

You don’t know what to say to that - your cheeks feel kind of warm, and your brain is buzzing like a beehive. 

“I can’t really… see in this thing,” you mumble, tugging at the brim that keeps slipping. Suddenly a little frail.

Jake laughs again, and you decide that you don’t just like the sound - you love it. 

“You’re a cute one, huh?” he says, voice only a little mocking. He leans into your space, crooked grin so close to you that you can see the stubble forming along his cheeks and jaw, a golden dusting of hair against the sun-kissed skin. For a breathless, head-spinning moment, you think about how it would feel pressed to the inside of your thighs, raspy and tickling and just the right side of painful.

He rights the hat, pushes it higher up on your forehead, and then his hand travels to the back of your neck, stays there. His thumb brushes from the brim of the hat to the knob of your spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You let out a shuddering breath, legs clenching.

“So you dreamed about being a cowgirl, yeah?” he asks, withdrawing his hand and taking a swig of his beer.

You blink a few times until your vision goes from blurred to focused. Then you clear your throat. “Yeah, like… in elementary school, I think.”

“What’s your opinion on cowboys, then?”

You shrug, turn your upper body sideways to finger the stem of your cocktail glass. “I suppose they have their uses.”

He laughs, the sound a little heavier than it was before, and says, “You ever dreamed about any of those, too?”

It’s crude, it’s forward, it’s an innuendo so thinly-veiled it’s pretty much translucent. It should make you balk.

But there’s something about the night. The music, the drinks, the boy. The heat of the summer outside and the thrill of a new town and a new dress and a new life. It all makes you feel a little bit dangerous, a little bit sexy, a little bit loose. Maybe just for one night, you can pretend to be someone else. Let your hair down.

“Maybe,” you say, hoping it comes off mysterious instead of guarded, closed-off, disinterested. You turn to take a sip of your margarita, and then, in a move so bold not even Carrie Underwood and her car-wrecking could claim it, you lick the salt off the rim of the glass.

When you glance up at him again, his pupils are blown so wide there’s barely any green left visible. He’s looking right at your mouth.

“Anything I could make come true?” he asks.

It’s an offer as much as it is an out. If you pull back now, you’re pretty sure he’d leave you alone. Jake is forward, confident, sure, but he doesn’t seem like the pushy type. For some insane reason, you feel safe with him.

“Depends,” you say. Your voice has gone so quiet you’re surprised he can hear you over the din of the bar. The song has changed, but you don’t recognize the tune. You can’t focus on anything except the man right in front of you anyway.

He doesn’t ask what it depends on, and you’re glad because you don’t have an answer for him. You’re playing this whole thing by ear, and apparently, your hearing is impaired.

It starts as a tingle, as pins and needles, and when you look down, you find Jake’s hand on your thigh, just above the knee. Fingers splayed wide, radiating heat. As your heart rate kicks up a notch, you squirm in your seat.

Jake raises his free hand and tips two fingers to the brim gently. “You know what this means, pretty girl?”

His thumb traces a path up the inside of your thigh, leaves goosebumps in its wake. Suddenly, your mouth is drier than the Sahara desert.

“What?” you ask stupidly. You feel like there’s an entirely separate conversation happening here, one you aren’t really following.

He smirks, but his eyes don’t move from your face. “It’s not really something good girls do.”

You’re distracted by the tuft of hair protruding from the unbuttoned collar of his flannel, the same color as his beard. You wonder if it stretches all the way down beneath the obnoxiously large belt buckle.

Your voice has gone airy. “Why not?”

He hums, fingers traveling just a little higher up on your thigh, almost creeping beneath the fabric of your dress now. You hope you’re not sticky with sweat. It’s so hot in here. But then his fingernails scrape over your skin, the softest of touches, and that thought dissipates along with any other.

“See, there’s this rule, sugar,” he says and leans even closer. For a second, you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he just goes on, “You steal the hat, you ride the cowboy.”

Your brain implodes. If you tried to get up right now, you’re pretty sure you’d keel right over.

“Does that really exist?” you ask, voice barely more than a whisper. He’s so close that you can smell his aftershave, can count the freckles scattered on his nose. So close if you just lean in an inch, half an inch, just a bit…

Somebody says your name, and you almost topple backward off the bar stool in your attempt to put distance between him and you.

Your co-worker stands a step behind you, eyebrow raised and a disapproving look on her face.

“I’m heading home now. You still need that ride?”

Part of you wants to say no. Let Jake take you home or to a bathroom stall or to the back of his pick-up. Make good on that rule you’re not sure he didn’t just make up. Give into the insistent thrumming of want in the pit of your stomach.

But there’s a rational part of you left, too, one that hasn’t drowned in margaritas or the green of Jake’s eyes yet. One that remembers who you really are, truly, beneath the thin veneer of tonight’s pretense.

So you clear your throat, slide off the barstool, and right into his arms. For a second, you’re chest to chest, stomach to stomach, then you’re stepping away, wondering distantly just how flustered you look and taking the hat off.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this,” you say sheepishly and hand it back to him.

Jake smirks, something in his eyes twinkling.

“Always happy to make a lady’s dreams come true,” he says, popping the hat back on. “Anytime, Ma’am.”

You grope around for your purse blindly, a lump in your throat that makes it impossible to speak. That and the fact that you have no idea how to answer that.

“Seresin.” Your co-worker nods at him.

He waves back silently, then casts another long, lingering look at you that makes your heart miss a beat or two.

“I’ll see you around?” you ask, voice trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

The corner of Jake’s mouth lifts in a grin. 

“You can count on it,” he says and tips his hat at you. “I believe you may owe me a ride.”

#hangman x reader #hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #hangman #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #fic #writing #mine #top gun maverick #fic: dsc

[rookthorne]

My dearest Lana, could I please request a drabble with our favourite Bucky boi and the prompt: “just to clarify: me holding your hand doesn’t, like, mean anything, by the way. not in that way, at least. unless you want it to mean something. i don’t mind. that’s cool.”

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

Coming to a meet alone might have been a bad idea, so it’s a good thing your knight in shining armour is always there to rescue you — but what happens when he takes it a step too far?

You could only hope that he leaves them still breathing, whether that’s through a tube, or of their own volition.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❯❯❯ Street Racer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ❯❯❯ 2.2k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ❯❯❯ Fluff, implied violence (not towards reader) / street fight

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ❯❯❯ Prompt by @promptplanetblr.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ❯❯❯ Payback by Juicy J, Kevin Gates, Future, Sage The Gemini ❯❯❯ Riot by Hollywood Undead

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Why was it always in the dead of night that these meets happened? 

It was a question that had so many answers, each more probable than the last; was it so the neon lights of the main drag would bounce off the sleek frames of the cars that lined either side of the road? Is it the fact that night provided that sense of invincibility to those that dare to pull up to the stark white line; marking the start of the battle of just who’s wallet will be thicker with bills, or keys, at the end?

You had no idea. It seemed as though the gravitational pull of the glory from winning called to more people than you thought possible, including yourself. Strutting down the centre of the road, you could finally understand just why so many were pulled into this world that ran the streets by night fall - it was powerful. 

The sound of your boots hitting the bitumen of the road was drowned out by the roar of the revving engines and the booming bass from speakers that echoed out of the trunks from some of the more impressive rides that lined the street. 

“Well, hello there, sugar,” a voice purred from behind your shoulder, the tone only making you grin. Only one person could get away with that. “How you doin’?”

“Hi, Bucky.” You greeted, grinning at him when he slung an arm over your shoulder. “I thought you’d be in your corner with the guys, isn’t the first heat about to start?”

Bucky smirked and moved to kiss your temple, the proximity taking you by surprise. “I can’t start nothin’ if I don’t have my good luck charm.”

The giggle escaped from you before you could stop it, and you leant a little bit closer into his side, the distinct smell of Bucky immediately bringing a sense of calmness to your already fraying nerves.

To any onlooker – not that their eyes lingered long when you were under his arm – it would seem as though you were together, a couple. However, thanks to a crippling shyness and inability to voice what you so desperately wanted, it hadn’t evolved past not-so-subtle flirting and gentle touches. To say you were smitten was an understatement. 

Bucky had the patience of a saint, you presumed. 

Spoiler alert; he didn’t. 

The two of you made your way down the street, stopping only once for you to admire a Porsche much to Bucky’s disdain. 

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” You breathed, the sleek frame and subtle colouring giving a sense of simplicity that hid the monster of the engine underneath. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“I thought you only had eyes for me,” Bucky pouted as he glared at the offending car, the childish gleam in his eyes only spurring you on. “C’mon, my baby needs my good luck charm, you know this.”

You laughed as Bucky tugged on your arm gently. His baby was the Skyline that had stolen your breath in a gasp as you watched it drift around a corner during your first race meet, just before you had met Nat. A kaleidoscope of feelings had bloomed in your stomach as you watched the Skyline tear its way towards the finish line, and then seeing him emerge from the cabin only to be immediately embraced by Steve as they shouted their victory, did you finally know and realise that you were screwed.

“But, Buck,” you protested with a sly grin, and the way he glared at you because he knew what you were going to say was dangerous, intoxicating. “She’s so pretty.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by another voice.

“Who’s pretty?”

A flash of pure anger flickered through Bucky’s eyes and his posture stiffened, and you didn’t miss the way he pulled you towards him possessively. You didn’t fight it. This was not the time to play around – not when Bucky reacted like that.

“The pretty sight of my boot up your ass is hard to beat, Hugh,” Bucky growled, the low timbre of his voice not only startling you, but it took Hugh by surprise as well – if his widened eyes were anything to go by.

Then, Hugh’s face split into a cheshire grin as he stared between the two of you, and you were glad Bucky was there. 

“You know, James, I didn’t take you as such a sensitive prick. You’ve grown soft,” Hugh sneered, the predatory glint in his eyes as he looked from his car back to you. “A bit of pussy turned you into a whipped son of a bitch.”

Bucky’s arm had moved from your shoulders, and before you had realised what was happening, you gripped the cold metal of his prothesis in your hands and pulled back, desperate to stop him from ripping Hugh limb from limb. “Bucky, stop!”

It all happened so quickly it left you reeling. Bucky’s arm slipped from your grip and the sound of bone crunching made you wince sharply. 

The scuffle of shoes and a yelp of pain later, Bucky and Hugh stood nose to bloodied nose, their chests heaving for breath as they glared with such viciousness you were surprised neither of them dropped dead against the hood of Hugh’s car. “My name is Ransom, you fucking asshole,” Hugh spat, the blood from his broken nose slowly trickling down to land on his once pristine coat and scarf.  

“Well, Ransom,” Bucky snarled, his lip curling. “Shut your fuckin’ mouth before I make you eat through a straw for the rest of your pathetic, trust fund existence, you bitch.” 

Well, that wasn’t hot. 

Bucky was ignoring every tug on his arm, your pleas of, “Just leave it alone, Buck,” going unanswered – it had started to become a spectacle with the crowd of people circling the three of you in. A few people were whistling and cheering, their whooping only making the atmosphere more tense.

Steve and Sam broke through the crowd and met your scared gaze and they blanched; the sudden change of their normal playful demeanour only unnerved you further. 

Bucky was not moving.

“That’s enough boys,” Steve called as he stepped forward, his once bright eyes now dark with intention, for what, you couldn’t tell. His hand rested against Bucky’s chest and pushed back to create distance between the two. “Settle this on the streets, not here.”

Your eyes widened when Sam grabbed a hold of your shoulders, pulling you back. “Steve, you can’t be serious,” you argued, and Sam chuckled.

“Bucky is a monster behind the wheel when he’s this riled up, trust me, sweetheart,” Sam whispered as he draped an arm around your shoulder, his grip tight and unrelenting when you shifted to lean against his side slightly. 

The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to be behind the wheel this angry, he wouldn’t be smart – he would not be safe. 

Ransom and Bucky were still staring one another down and ignoring Steve as he pulled two slips of pink paper from the back pocket of his jeans. 

No. No, Bucky wouldn’t do this.

“Bucky! Don’t, please!” You cried. The adrenaline from seeing him so angry coursed through you like a wildfire. “Please don’t!” 

Bucky turned his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye and your stomach sunk – he never turned down a challenge. 

“Sam,” Bucky asked, turning back to look Ransom dead in the eye, the slight tilt of his head only telling you that the look on his face would be murderous. “Take care of my girl while I teach this punk a lesson.”

“Will do,” Sam replied, the grip on your shoulders slackening slightly as he turned to guide you to their corner. You took that opportunity to pull free and dart forward to grab Bucky’s hand, the sudden pressure of your grip made him turn to look at you with slightly widened eyes, as though he couldn’t believe it. 

“Let’s go, now,” you said, tugging him along. And for once, Bucky didn’t resist. 

You paid no mind to the fact that you were holding his hand, nor to the fact that you had never initiated contact with him before now, or the fact that Bucky’s gaze never left the side of your face as you stalked towards his Skyline as it lay in wait. Sam and Steve’s not-so-quiet sniggers and laughter as they followed right behind the two of you also went ignored, your tunnel vision and focus honed in only on Bucky’s Skyline. 

The pink slips, now filled out for a shining white Porsche and Bucky’s Skyline, were now stuffed into Steve’s back pocket, the crinkle of the paper loud over the hum of conversation. 

You had finally reached Bucky’s car when Bucky pulled you to a stop – the sudden resistance making you stumble slightly as you turned to face him. Your hand still holding his. “What?”

Bucky smiled. All traces of hostility had disappeared and he looked at you as though seeing you clearly for the first time, his eyes gleamed with a suspicious happiness. You raised your brow and his smile turned into a grin as he pointedly looked down.

You followed his gaze and froze. 

Well, shit.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled, suddenly very aware of the feel of the calluses and the roughness on his own caused by years of working on engine blocks and chassis. “Me holding your hand doesn’t, like, mean anything, Bucky. Not in that way, at least,” you rambled, nervously. 

God, why was it suddenly so hot? 

If the high beam of the headlights on an approaching racer was the brightest thing you had seen in this lifetime, it was nothing compared to the wide grin on Bucky’s face as he stared up to the sky, the ghost of a laugh leaving him.

He was still holding your hand. And he was not letting go. 

“Unless you want it to mean something, I don’t mind,” you mumbled quickly, suddenly unable to tolerate looking anywhere but your feet. Had you seen that oil slick before? Surely not. You had to make it a point to get Bucky to check the seals of his engine. “That’s cool.”

A sudden squeeze to your hand made you quickly snap your focus from the oil slick on the ground to your joined hands, and then up to Bucky’s face. When you met his gaze, your eyes widened in shock – his eyes had never ever been so bright, so blue, and it was like the final gut punch before the ultimate rejection. You knew it.

“I need my good luck charm to give me a kiss–to help me win,” Bucky whispered, the smirk on his face made his tone playful. 

What?

“Huh?” You whispered back, unable to keep the shock from your voice. 

What the hell is going on?

“I said, my good luck charm has to gimme a kiss, to help me win.” Bucky edged forward and moved his left hand to tilt your chin up, the cold bite of the vibranium a relief against your hot skin. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.”

Oh, fuck.

“Y-Yeah, I will.” If only you could have kept the whimper from being so damn obvious, he wouldn’t look at you like that.

“Good girl.”

Your lips brushed his, a soft, chaste kiss, barely there, but it stole the breath from your lungs nevertheless. Bucky was first to let go and he gestured towards his Skyline, the gunmetal grey paint illuminated in the white light of the streetlight, and you took your place against the arch as you waited for him to slip into the driver’s seat, a hesitant smile on your face while he watched you as the engine purred to life. 

“You better be safe, Buck!” Steve called as he ducked back out of his car, the flag in his hand acting like a beacon to all the eyes watching Bucky prepare. Cars had already moved from the street to make room for the two competitors. 

“Are you a flag girl now, Stevie?” You shouted and he groaned in response, flipping you off. 

“He wishes, sugar. He’s got the body for it, don’t you think?” Bucky grinned and revved his engine to cover the obscenities Steve shouted over his shoulder at him. “Such a drama queen.”

“You’re not wr-” You started, only to be interrupted by the sight of Ransom’s Porsche rolling towards the line. The exhaust crackled as it spat fire while he turned it around so the tail lights now faced you, the whine of the engine only made you more nervous for what exactly was under that hood. 

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Bucky said softly, and you complied, only hesitating slightly. His jean-clad legs were in the footwell and his elbow hung out the window when he shut the door. 

The hungry expression on his face was an immediate shock to your nerves, he never looked at you like that – at least that you had noticed. But you didn’t hate it; if you ignored the way all of your blood rushed south. 

You had to ignore it.

“I have an idea, sugar,” Bucky purred, smirking as he gestured you closer. You complied, going against your better judgement. As soon as you were close enough, Bucky reached forward and grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face to his, the bruising kiss that followed made you dizzy with want.

Much too quickly, Bucky pulled away with a shit-eating grin on his face, the absolute unhindered sense of mischief evident in his eyes. 

He wasn’t done with you. 

“Hold that thought, sweetheart,” Bucky said, his voice deepening with a competitive edge. “I gotta teach this punk a lesson.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #rookthorne's works #DWTD

[loving-apparitions]

CW: This answer will be mentioning death, illness, and healthcare

Dude is scared, but he sure won’t let you know that. In the back of his mind, he’s worried before about your death, and about his death. He’s come close several times, so it’s just something he’s aware of. Not necessarily afraid of, but he’s aware he only has so many more days and he wants to treasure them.

So he has a lot to tell you if you want his thoughts about it. He knows a situation like this can be scary, and it can be disheartening, even when it goes relatively well. He doesn’t want you to spend all your time scared or upset. He’s had major problems with such in the past and he doesn’t want anyone else to go through that.

That said, if you’re doing alright, he never tries to lead you into any conversation. Really, he’s concerned about how you’re feeling, and lets you lead any heavy conversations. So if there are none, then none are had.

Going to the doctor frequently probably isn’t fun and might be stressful; Neon arranges a drive for you when he can, and either goes with you to appointments or meets you after whenever he can. He doesn’t think anything about it should be embarrassing, and he hopes some company will help! Also, he’d like to get you a little treat or gift for going through it.

If your strength or stamina for some activities are changing, that’s alright. Neon reiterates that he’s not judging you for any of this, you’re still strong of heart and he loves you.

He’s very patient if you need some extra time for anything, he’s always ready to do a task for you or carry you if you want, and if you’d like, he knows a lot of care-specialized robots in the city. He’ll even offer to try his hand at modifying some mobility aids or prosthetics for you.

Similarly, if your ability to communicate is changing, he’s willing to work with you. Maybe you need longer to form your words, or need to use images or body language instead of spoken or written words, or maybe you’d rather write than speak. He does his best to communicate with you how you prefer.

Seeing you reminds him how grateful he is that he’s still alive, and that he gets to share his time with you. Even if you think you’re not looking or acting your best lately, he still thinks you’re wonderful. He’s always been one to constantly remind you that he loves you, and tell you what he adores about you.

He makes sure he takes lots of pictures and records in his log. These are habits he already had but wasn’t super devoted to. Now that there’s the chance he’ll outlive you, though, he wants to be able to remember his time with you.

Is there anything you really want to do? He has a lot of money and connections, and he’s willing to use those to help you do anything on your bucket list. Some things he may not be able to participate in with you, but he tries to be there. He likes to see you happy, and to learn more about your interests and passions.

#no straight roads x reader #neon j x reader #tw death #tw illness #romantic #neon j x reader romantic #no straight roads x reader romantic #starlord-sapphic #i hope this covers well enough! #angst

[sdr2lovemail]

Hey Neon J! Do you know about Vocaloid? I feel like you'd enjoy some songs!

“Ah, yes! I am very familiar with Vocaloid. A great band might I add.” His radar pings in familiarity. “Sometimes the boys will bring up Ms. Hatsune. I must say she and her other members have a wonderful range of music.”

He pulls out his phone to make a note. “I have to remember to contact one of their producers so we can collaborate. It would be the collab of the century~!”

“Though I’m not sure who to contact. They seem to get a new producer with every song.” The center of his radar forms into a small question mark. “Perhaps they are just that well known! Many people seem to be lining up to work with them.”

“Eloni had shown me that they even have video game deals. One day I would like for 1010 to have their own video game. I know it would sell like crazy~!”

“I must get the boys together to discuss this at once!” He turns, his fur-lined jacket swishing dramatically behind him.

Character Interaction Event

I imagine him thinking Vocaloid is a singular band at first.

#no straight roads x reader #nsr x reader #neon j x reader #neon j #no straight roads #nsr #x reader #self insert #character interaction event

[blueicequeen19]

jj maybank x stripper reader

Neon Lights

Warnings: unprotected sex

JJ couldn’t tear his eyes off her. His friends would tease him relentlessly if they knew he was obsessed with a stripper. How he spent every weekend in Charlestown just to go to the club and be near her. No amount of private dances were enough. He was pretty sure the name she gave him was fake but he didn’t care. She was perfect. Right down to the fake platinum wig and tits. She looked amazing in front of the neon lights.

JJ slouched down on the leather couch, his cock begging to be freed from his jeans. She was breathtaking as she danced. Every sway of her hips had him burning hotter and hotter. All the blood was in his cock and he couldn’t think straight.

Especially not when she started to saunter over, one foot in front of the other to add to the seduction. He damn near blows his load when she reaches back and unties her tiny string top and let’s it fall to the floor, her tits free and begging for his mouth.

“Have you missed me?” She purrs, climbing onto his lap and starting to grind on him. JJ fists the arm of the couch, knowing the no touching rule.

“Yes.” JJ breathes, her nipples brushing his chin as she rolls her body against his.

“I’ve missed you too.” She takes his hands, placing them on her tits and giving him the green light. He squeezes hard, pinching her nipples as her head falls back while she continues to dance.

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. I’m about to cum in my pants.” JJ growls, letting his hands move to her g-string clad ass as he takes a nipple in his mouth. She gasps, her hands tangling in his hair. She tasted like vanilla and sweat and temptation.

“You’ve always been good to me, JJ. Let me take care of you.” She whispers into his ear, all the air leaving his body. She climbs off and kneels between his legs, running her manicured fingers over the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Please don’t tease me. I can’t take it.” JJ all but begs. She bats her fake lashes as she lowers his zipper, her eyes widened when he all but burst free. JJ lifted his hips, pushing his jeans and boxers down so he was at her disposal. He didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up at the site of him.

“Tell me, J. Do you want my mouth or my pussy?” She purrs, wrapping her hand around his length and gently squeezing.

“I’m not going to last with either one.” JJ bites out, his body trembling. His cock was hard as steel and throbbing as it weeped precum onto her fingers.

“I really want to feel this inside me. But I’m not supposed to fuck clients.”

“It’s my birthday.” JJ forces a charming grin and she arches a brow, fighting her own smirk.

“It’s always someone’s birthday.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his swollen mushroom head in a kiss before standing, running her fingers through her slit. JJ gulps as she holds up two glistening fingers and brings them to his lips. He happily sucks her arousal off her fingers and they both moan.

“I wish I had time to feel that tongue on my pussy too. Another time, maybe.” She purrs, straddling his waist and lining his cock up with her entrance.

“Oh, god.” JJ’s head falls back against the cushion as she sinks down.

This was going to be over quick.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow