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#these are only my empty packs LMAO

gyuswhore · 7 months

Text

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.”

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aaakikoo · 9 months

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Low effort scenarios with my favorite fictional man. Bakugou.

an -> low effort is what I do best lmao, I hope you enjoy this. I have alresdy done these with more effort put in them 😭 I’ll list some below.

here and here.

another an -> requests currently open, or if you want to send ideas, thirsts or suggestions feel free to do that too. Comments and rblogs r appreciated!

paring -> k.Bakugou x f!reader

warnings -> language, idk tell me if there is any other.

———

1. NOT SHARING HIS RAMEN WITH YOU

“Babe please just one bite” you said as the blond was slurping on his noodles. “Fuck off, get your own.”

“You made the last pack! I am not heading to the store for a packet of noodles!” You said in defense but he didn’t seem to care as he continued chewing.

“Babe please!” You held him by the shoulders as you whined further. “I said no.” He said taking another bite.

“Fine.” You huffed and sat your ass back down on the couch. after Bakugou had finished slurping and munching on his noodles he came and sat with you on the couch.

At first you didn’t pay him any mind until he made a mistake and placed his arm around your waist.

You quickly slapped his arm away. “I’m mad at you.” You said leaving the living room and heading to your shared bedroom.

On your way you heard him scoff but you didn’t care.

A few minutes later he came in to apologize but it wasn’t successful.

“Why do I have to apologize after eating something I ate, and paid for? Do I have to share everything with you.” He asked in annoyance.

“Well you could’ve gave me one singular bite!” You said in defense and he scoffed and left the room annoyed at your behavior.

About half an hour later he came in, this time you didn’t bother to look at him. He didn’t say anything either, he came in and picked you off of the bed.

“W-what? Hey, what are you doing??” You asked surprised, no answer. “Put me down!” Still no answer.

He walked downstairs and headed to the kitchen placing you on one of the island chairs.

“What are-“ you words were swallowed up as you saw what was in front of you.

“Stop being mad at me now okay?”

He had bought you more noodles, made them for you, cut you fresh vegetables to have with, seasoned it, and put chopsticks on the side for you to eat.

You didn’t replay, only offering him a little hidden smile as you began munching.

The man still sat across from you on the island. “Thank you. Best boyfriend ever.”

“Huge mood swing.”

2. BUYING FOR YOU

It was a Sunday afternoon and you were both chilling on the couch.

Tomorrow was your day off so you were in a good mood, scrolling on whatever expensive brands site, checking out their latest drops and most hottest items.

Also Bakugou told you he will be taking you out after his shift, by 7pm. So you were trying to see if you could make a steal for the date.

Currently, Bakugou’s eyes were glued on the tv and your eyes were glued on your phone.

The guy in the show Bakugou is watching had made a pretty funny joke and Bakugou looked down at you to see if you had catched that.

Instead he finds you eyeing a dark red pair of high pump heels. He saw you like it and add it to your list and he thought that was it.

He continued watching the series like nothing happened and you closed your phone and now focusing on the tv.

The next day you woke up to an empty bed like always when it is your day off, currently 9am and you headed down to make yourself breakfast.

After you had eaten you clean up a bit and chatted with your friends for a little. Until the doorbell rang and there was a mailman, delivering you a package and asking for your autograph.

You had told him that you didn’t purchase anything but he kept on insisting that this was the right address.

You took a look on the address and it was correct then you saw that it was bought with your boyfriends name. So you gave the mailman your autograph.

After you closed and locked your door you took the box into the living room. Wondering what your boyfriend could’ve possibly purchased. He always asks for your opinion before he purchases anything.

Curiosity got the best out of you and you opened the brown box, the box revealing another box inside. A more expensive looking one. Matt black box with golden letters from the expensive brand you were looking at earlier.

You opened the black box, now this time the box revealed a white stretchy bag, you opened the box and your jaw dropped at the sight.

The dark red pumps you were looking at yesterday. Before you could properly make up your thoughts your boyfriend messaged you.

[ wear em today ]

Is all he sent to you, you wondered how he knew that you had gotten them, then you remembered he gets a notification when a package is delivered.

Your heart was filled with warmth.

By 17:30 you started getting ready, quick shower, blowing your hair, picking your outfit. A long black silky dress and gold jewelry everywhere from your ears, wrists to your neck and fingers. Elegant makeup and your hair out up in a golden butterfly claw clip. Along with of course the new heels.

By 18:50 you received a text. Which meant to head outside. And so you did.

When you stepped outside you were met with your boyfriend dressed in black suit pants and a white dress shirt with a dark red tie to match his eyes and your new bought heels.

He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your temple. “Thank you.” You said and pecked his lips.

“Nothing but the best for you.”

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paigebueckersmommy · 7 days

Text

guilty as sin? pt. 1

paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: gay awakening?? toxic relationship, slightly suggestive if you squint

a/n: bc this song is the only thing i think abt and it’s so paige coded

you grew up not religious, but in a religious family. you were told that being gay was wrong, and ignoring the voice inside you, you told yourself you were straight.

you were in a toxic relationship which you knew was toxic beucase of the things people had told you. when you started classses at uconn in 2021, you boyfriend was also attending uconn. you knew about paige, but had never been much into basketball although your boyfriend was.

he took you to a uconn wbb game and sat there as you waited for the game to start. and suddenly, you saw paige. you never seen her looking so beautiful, and felt like soemthing about you had been changed when suddenly you and paige made eye contact as you were sitting pretty close to the court.

uconn won the game, and you acted you payed attention on the ride your boyfriend gave you up your dorm knowing you only had eyes for paige the entire game. “yea i had fun,” you say tiredly.

the next day you had a 11 am class, and as you walked into the lecture hall you spotted someone across the hall from you. paige. you looked over to her in the crowded hallway, and quickly looked back. you walked into the lecture hall before paige, as you sped up the pace of your walk in the hallway.

you sat down closer to the back in the middle of a empty row. you sat down and got your computer out of your bookbag, when you heard someone. “hey, can i sit here?” you heard a deep voice say, it was paige. “oh uh yea that’s fine.” you say with a smirk, paige sits down also with a smirk. while you wait for the professor to arrive to class, you and paige had conjured up some small talk, when suddenly paige turned to you, “wait, were you at my game last night?” paige says with a grin curling in the corner of her mouth.

“oh yea i was. you did good out there.” you say with slight panic. “oh thanks, who was that guy with you?” paige says leaning back. “that was my boyfriend.” you say with slight embarassment.

“ohhhh.. okay.” paige said with a slight giggle. you heard her murmur something under her breath, “i could change that.” you heard. “what was that?” you say with even more embarassment than before. “oh nothing sorry,” paige said as the professor started talking.

you and paige didn’t talk the rest of the class since you were taking notes. as you two stood up and started packing up to leave she looked at you, “hey what’s your name?” paige said. “oh ny name is (yn),” you say with a smirk. paige starts away with a smile. “well it was nice talking to u see you later.”

as you walk back to your dorm, your mind is overstimulated with thiughta about paige. was she filming with you? what did she muffle under her breath that i couldn’t hear? and is paige my gay awakening?

later that night you lay in your bed watching instagram reels when suddenly you see a small ‘1’ appear on your notification box. you tap on it,

“@paigebueckers started following you”

you smile and quickly follow her back. when you get a notification from dms and you assumed it was paige.

P: yo

Y: hey how’d you find my instagram? lmao not complaining just wondering.

P: ma you told me your name

ma. the word paige typed sent chills down your spine and wetness in between your thighs.

P: what’s ur number?

Y: *** *** **** :)

*over texts*

P: do you have any classes tmrw?

Y: yea one at 9

P: wanna come over at 5?

Y: yea that sounds good :)

P: see u then ma good night

there it was again. ‘ma’

you smile into your pillow and when your done, you pick up your phone, scrolling in your phone app to find your boyfriends contact and press call.

B: hey ba-

Y: hey yea we’re over

B: what the fuc-

you hang up.

#Spotify #paige bueckers headcannons #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold #azzi fudd #gay awakening #uconn #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb

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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 11 days

Text

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

Smoke Sesh (Chris)

Request: Hii can I get a Chris fic of where they are chilling and having a smoke sesh then they get all touchy feely and they end up having kinky sex

Warnings: use of marijuana, oral (m/f receiving), degradation, friends to lovers, slightly jealous!chris, i think that’s it

A/N: in honor of 4/20 lmao

Chris’ pov

I’m currently bored as fuck, neither of my brothers would be home for hours so had nothing to do. They left early this morning and won’t be back until late tomorrow night, leaving me alone for almost 48 hours. It’s not that I hate being alone, it’s more so that I hate not being entertained. I was just laying in bed scrolling through and watching TikToks when my phone went off. It was Y/n, the first friend we ever made in LA.

Y/n was honestly, hands down, my best friend, I know she likes to get dressed up and stuff but we’re literally just gonna be smoking so there’s no need to dress all nice. As promised, she was at my door in some Fresh Love pants that matched the ones I was wearing, and a black tank top. “Y/N/N!” I yelled while dragging out her name, making her laugh as I hugged her, “Let’s go to my room and smoke.” I added after.

We got down to my room and Y/n took off her shoes and threw her keys onto my desk before immediately flopping down face-first on my bed. I laughed as she turned her head to look at me, “I love your bed dude, it’s so fucking comfortable!” she said in an exaggerated tone. “Get up or we’re not smoking.” I told her half-jokingly, while I sat in my desk chair grinding my weed.

Y/n’s pov

Begrudgingly, I got off his bed to go grab his bong, “Where are you going with that?” he asked as I walked to his bathroom. “I’m putting water in it you dumb bitch, it’s empty.” I laughed back at him making him pout, I filled the bong with some water and set it on his desk as he put the grinder down. I sat next to it on the desk as Chris packed himself a bowl before taking a hit and handing it to me.

I copied his actions handing it back to him to pack another bowl but he set it down, “Dude! We gotta take a picture for the Fresh Love insta later, I just realized we’re matching!” he said all excited. This made me laugh, “Yeah we can definitely take one later.” after two more bowls we started to feel the high a bit, “My ass hurts.” I blurted out without thinking. Chris started laughing, “What the fuck, why?” “Because your desk is uncomfortable, duh.” I said back.

“Then why are you sitting there dumbass?” Chris said while packing another bowl, “You only have one chair in your room.” I told him while he took another hit. He passed the bong back to me and as I was taking a hit Chris said, “Well you could always sit on my lap next time.” he shrugged making me choke on the smoke. “Woah there buddy, you good?” Chris laughed as he took the bong away from me, “Why would you say that!?” I yelled at him after I stopped coughing. He scooted his chair so he was now in between my legs with his hands on my calves, both of us finally feeling the affects of the weed.

“C’mon, sitting on my lap can’t be that bad.” he joked , rolling his eyes before scooting his chair back a little, “Come sit on my lap.” he added. “No, we gotta take pictures for Fresh Love’s insta, remember?” I threw back at him, “Fine, fine.” he replied before standing up. “Let’s take them in the mirror, stand in front of me.” Chris instructed, handing me his phone, I wasn’t expecting Chris to put his head on my shoulder and grab my waist. And I most definitely was not expecting him to pull me back against him, pressing himself against my ass!

“Cover your face with the phone and turn flash on for the picture so they don’t realize it’s us.” Chris said while hiding his head in my neck, making sure you could still see the Fresh Love logo on his sweatpants. I took a couple of pictures, including one with us holding hands when I felt Chris start squeezing my hand tightly, like I’d run away if he let go. Then I felt a ghost of a kiss to my neck but chose to ignore it until I felt another one. We were both stood in front of the mirror still, no longer taking pictures, when he pulled me back against him again and placed another, barely there kiss to my neck.

“Chris, what are you doing?” I asked, causing him to pull away, “Nothing, just showin’ my best friend some love.” he replied unconvincingly as he went back to sitting in his chair. I went back towards his desk to sit on it when he stopped me, “The desk’s uncomfortable remember, why don’t you just sit on my lap?” he inquired, grabbing my hands with his own. “That’s weird, we’re friends.” I simply stated but Chris being his usual annoying self had something else to say. “Sit on my lap or else we aren’t gonna smoke a few more bowls.” he claimed, making me whine in frustration.

“Fine but it’s gonna be weird.” I pouted and he guided me down to sit on his lap sideways. “You’re sitting on my lap, so you can’t get mad if I accidentally get hard.” he laughed, causing me to give him a grossed out look, even though I wouldn’t actually mind. We both smoked three more bowls before feeling extremely high, I was giggling at everything Chris was saying at this point. “You know, you sound cute when you laugh like that.” he said causing me to blush. “Awww you’re blushing!” he added while poking my cheek. Chris wrapped his left arm around my waist, as I was facing the right, and kept poking my face. “Chris stop poking me or I’ll bite your finger off!” I threatened playfully, causing us both to laugh as he stopped.

Chris’ right hand kept running over my calves while his left had a firm grip on my waist, my right arm was around his shoulders and my left was in my lap. His hand moved up to my arm instead, trailing it up to my shoulder and ghosting it over the side of my neck. We were both silently looking at each other as he did so until he spoke “Can you play with my hair? I like when you scratch my head with your nails, just don’t pull it.” “What happens if I pull it?” I asked, already knowing answer. “You don’t wanna know.” he smirked, as I stared playing with his hair. Chris kept letting out little hums of contentment with a cute little smile on his face as I did so. However, I was not expecting what his did next though, it took me completely by surprise.

This time when his hand moved up towards my neck, he wrapped his fingers around my throat in a joking manner. Slightly choking me to gauge my reaction, I almost moaned but instead I just looked at him with wide eyes. Chris laughed as he removed his hand, “Oh my god, you totally liked that!” he said making me blush. “N-No I didn’t.” I said nervously knowing damn well that I did, in fact, like it. “You’re a kinky motherfucker.” he joked but stopped laughing when I mumbled “You don’t know the half of it…” without thinking. “Do tell me more.” he said intrigued, I could feel his cock growing half-hard under my ass.

“You only get to know one more thing. I like to be degraded in bed. Like if a guy calls me a slut while we’re making out I’ll instantly get on my knees for him.” I laughed as Chris’ eyes grew a bit dark due to his pupils blowing out. He protectively tightened his grip on my waist, “You better not be doing that shit for other dudes.” he said gruffly, making me a little confused. “A girl has needs you know!? I can’t always get myself off.” I teased, knowing that I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months, I was just trying to make him mad at this point. “You aren’t allowed to do that anymore. If you’re horny, you come to me and I’ll fix it.” he said while staring into my eyes. Enjoying how worked up I was getting him, I decided to do more teasing, “I don’t know, I’ve seen quite a few girls leaving you’re room looking very unsatisfied…” I said with a pout.

“I haven’t even hooked up with anyone in over a year but yeah, they probably were unsatisfied because they were just a quick fuck so I could cum.” he said with an unamused face. I pulled his hair a bit, “That’s rude.” I told him, “I’d actually take my fucking time with you, make you cum at least once before even getting my dick wet.” he groaned, getting fully hard beneath me. “Mhm, sure you would.” I taunted him, Chris roughly grabbed me by my jaw before pulling me closer towards his face. “Don’t fucking test me right now Y/n. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk properly for a week.” he growled before aggressively letting go of my jaw. “I bet your panties are soaked just thinking about it. Getting treated like a whore by your best friend turns you on so much, doesn’t it?” he said in a low voice while looking into my eyes.

I unintentionally whimpered at the thought, I’ve had so many wet dreams about being manhandled by him before but I never thought he’d actually want to fuck me. Chris helped move me so I was now straddling him, both of his hands on my thighs. I was regretting my choice to not wear a bra as he was turning me on, making my nipples grow hard. “Let me feel how wet I make you, yeah?” he questioned, I responded with a quiet “Yeah.” back as I blushed heavily. Chris let out a pleased hum, grinding me onto his cock a few times before moving his hand towards the top of my sweats. He slipped his hand past the waistband, rubbing me over my panties before moving them to the side.

Rubbing two fingers through my folds, groaning when he felt how wet I was. “Damn, I really do turn you on. What’d you say I do something to fix that, huh?” he asked seductively. I wrapped my arms around his neck before leaning in closer to his face so our lips were inches apart. I mumbled, “I say you better start getting to work.” before smashing our lips together in a heated kiss. Chris’ hands came down to my ass to make me grind on him before sliding his tongue across my bottom lip. I denied him access causing him to let out a very displeased groan, he took the clip I had holding my hair up, out and threw it towards the desk. He laced his fingers through my hair from underneath, tightly gripping the hair at the base of my skull and harshly pulling it.

This made me let out a surprised moan of both pain and pleasure, granting him access to my mouth. Our tongues slid against each other’s as he loosened his grip on my hair and started massaging my scalp to ease the pain. I sucked on Chris’ tongue slightly, causing him to let out a whiny moan before pulling away panting. “Nobody has ever done that to me before but holy fuck it was hot!” he panted out as I pulled his wife beater over his head. “I bet I can do a lot of things that nobody else has ever done to you before…” I bit my lip while tracing a finger from his chest up to his chin, pulling it upward to look at me. Chris already looked so dazed from both the weed and the sexual tension between us.

I gently gripped his jaw and smashed our lips together again, immediately sucking on his tongue again. I sucked harder this time, seeing as he liked it so much the first time, making him let out a loud whiny moan and buck his hips up. As I pulled away I lightly bit his lip and stood up, “Close your eyes for me.” I instructed him but of course he was curious as to what I was planning. “Why?” he questioned and I leaned down so our eyes were level to say, “It’s a surprise.” before smiling and pressing our lips together in a quick kiss. He begrudgingly agreed and closed his eyes, during this time I took my pants off and tank top before getting on my knees, keeping my panties on.

“Open your eyes.” I said seductively, “Shit! You really are a fucking whore for my cock aren’t you?” he groaned while standing up. He stood in front of me stroking the side of my face with his hand, “So pretty, it’s a shame that I’m going to ruin you.” he smiled at me. “Tell me what you want and it’s done.” I smiled back, Chris slid off his sweatpants, leaving his boxers on for me to take off. “I want you to suck my cock, pretty girl.” he ordered, I palmed his hard-on before pulling his boxers down, my eyes nearly popped out of my head at his size. For Chris being a skinny guy, I expected him to have a smaller dick, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but boy was I wrong. Chris had to be at least a solid 8.5 inches and was extremely girthy too, the mushroomed tip an angry red, oozing precum down his shaft. “What’s wrong babe? Never seen a dick this big before?” he asked in a cocky tone, “Um no actually, I wasn’t expecting you to have such a big dick. Most skinny guys aren’t this long or girthy.” I replied in awe.

“Well this big dicks not gonna suck itself so get to work.” he ordered me as he leant back against the wall. I took his cock in my hand, spreading the precum around before licking the tip. Chris sighed as I looked up at him licking the underside of his cock and took his tip into my mouth, sucking harshly. Due to his cock being so big, I knew it would be hard to deepthroat it so I just took as much as I could while jerking off the part that didn’t fit. Chris saw me struggling to take it all so he moved some hair out of my face, “Doing so good for me, look so pretty. It’s okay if you can’t take it all baby, you’re making me feel so good.” he praised me. I looked up at him with teary eyes, he looked so hot right now. His left hand was in a fist by his side while his right one held hair out of my face, his head was thrown back against the wall and he was letting out the most beautiful sounds.

I started swirling my tongue around his cock, pulling back and digging it into his slit, this made Chris let out a loud whine as my tongue worked it’s way around his cock. I started bobbing my head up and down on his cock at a fast pace until Chris grabbed my head and pulled me off. He stood there for a second, whimpering as his cock twitched and he breathed heavily. “God, you almost made me cum down your throat baby.” he panted out, “Why didn’t you?” I asked, upset that I didn’t get to taste his cum. “Wanna cum in your tight cunt instead.” he admitted, making me shudder, Chris then helped me up and pushed me towards the bed. I immediately understood what he wanted so I laid down on the bed, spreading my legs a bit.

Chris came to hover over me and immediately started sucking hickies into the skin of my neck. He started moving lower, causing me to moan when he started sucking on one of my nipples while playing with the other. He switched nipples before kissing down my stomach, stopping right above my pussy, groaning at the wet patch that had formed on my panties. “You really liked sucking my cock that much? Fucking slut, I bet you could get off from that alone.” he groaned before quite literally ripping my panties off. I’m not gonna lie it was pretty fucking hot but I still yelled at him, “Chris!” “Shut the fuck up, I’ll buy you a new pair!” he growled out. Without any warning, Chris went straight into roughly eating me out, I let out loud moans as my fingers went down to grip onto his hair, lightly pulling it.

When I looked down, I saw Chris already looking back at me before he moved my legs over his shoulders, sucking harshly at my entrance. He started fucking his tongue into me, swirling it around inside to rub my walls. Pulling back, Chris did something that made me let out the most pathetic moan, he vulgarly spit directly onto my pussy. Using his fingers to mix his spit with my juices before quickly rubbing my clit in fast, tight circles. My hips bucked up causing Chris to chuckle, moving his fingers down to my entrance and fucking me with them. His lips quickly wrapped around my clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue causing me to roughly pull his hair again.

Chris let out a groan against me, sending vibrations through my core and getting me close. “Fuck Chris I‘m gonna cum!” I pathetically moaned out, Chris added a third finger and started thrusting faster, rubbing against my g-spot. Pulling away for a slight second he said, “Yeah? Cum on my face you fucking whore!” groaning when he went back to sucking on my clit. I tightly pulled his hair as I came, Chris licked up all my cum, sucking on his fingers as he came back up to hover over me. “Are you sure you really want to have sex?” he asked sweetly before placing a quick kiss onto my lips, looking at my face for any signs of doubt. “So badly Chris.” I whined, he nodded his head in response, running his tip through my folds before slowly pushing in.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking tight baby.” he whined out, hiding his face in my neck while he waited for me to tell him he could move. “Please move.” I squirmed underneath him, Chris complied and started moving at a fast pace right off the bat. Chris pressed his lips down against mine in a rough and hot makeout, using my own move against me and sucking on my tongue, pulling a loud whine from me. One of my hands was scratching down his back while the other was roughly pulling his hair. Letting out a deep groan, Chris moved my left leg up so it was pressed against my chest and started thrusting faster. He bit my bottom lip as he pulled away from the kiss, panting and grunting as he did so. “Fuck Chris, I’m so close! Can I please cum?” I whined out, hanging his head low, Chris moved one of his hands to start rubbing my clit, making me get even closer.

“Go ahead, cum with me baby!” he moaned back, slowing down his movements as we both came hard. Chris pulled out, falling next to me and laying his head on my boobs, hugging me. “Holy fuck Y/n, that has to happen again! I’ll literally get on my knees and beg you to let me do that again.” he panted out breathlessly with a laugh. I ran my fingers through his hair, soothing his scalp from where I pulled his hair so roughly. “Oh this is for sure happening again, but Matt and Nick can’t know.” I said softly “I agree, can we cuddle and sleep? I’m exhausted.” Chris whined. I laughed before agreeing, he turned off his LED lights and we both drifted off to sleep, potentially changing our friendship forever.

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gojossocks · 6 months

Text

Gossips and Convenience Stores

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: just some jjk first years gossiping lmao. Implied that Geto didn’t turn batshit crazy and killed a lot of people.

a/n: this is probably an epilogue to a series I’ve been wanting to write for a while. lmk if you guys liked it ! <33

“I wonder when Gojo-sensei will ask Y/N-sensei out.” Nobara asks, before taking a bite of her onigiri.

Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were all sitting together in an empty parking lot outside a convenience store, something that has become a routine after a tiring mission.

It’s midnight. Most of the diners are closed and the only store open was the 7/11, just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High.

“It’s kinda annoying,” She continued. “Every time I see that damned teacher around her, he gets more annoying. That’s a given since he’s more annoying than when he’s with Geto-sensei. If that’s his way of flirting then I don’t think he could ever pull her.”

Megumi snorts at Nobara’s keen observation. “I’m surprised you noticed that.”

She rolls her eyes before glaring at Megumi, “How could I not? Even our principal notices it. Hell, even Yuuji knows it. Right?!” She turned to look at Yuuji, who shrugged mindlessly while eating his noodles.

“I don’t know, he does talk about her all the time. Whenever I ask what’s their history or whatever, he says they were long time friends.”

Megumi snorted at the statement, earning a look from his classmates.

“What’s that look you got, Fushiguro?” Nobara accuses him. He replies with a hum.

Nobara sighs before clicking her tongue. “Anyway, I know you know a lot about those two because Maki-san told me you basically grew up with having them around. Besides, he always asks you to bring pizza for Y/N-sensei. I think it was an unrequited thing, don’t you think? I mean she’s way out of his league if you ask me.” She says confidently.

Megumi knew that this was bound to happen but he never thought that he would have to explain the situation this early. He really hates it when people gossip about his life— and that extends to Y/N. He met Satoru and Y/N when he was 6 years old. Most of his childhood, he and Tsumiki stayed with the Gojos.

“They used to be together.” Megumi mumbles, looking down at his shoes. He then looks up at his friends when the both of them yell ‘HUH?!’ in unison. He couldn’t blame them though. Satoru and Y/N’s acting skills as if they were never together in the first place really fooled a lot of people, especially the people who don’t know anything about them.

“Yeah,” He says, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. Megumi takes a sip from his pepsi, in hopes to escape Nobara and Yuji’s interested gaze. “They’re marrie— could you both shut up for a bit?” He grumbles in annoyance.

Nobara scooches closer to Megumi. “Oh my god, tell me everything.”

He rolled his eyes but continued anyway. “They were in an arranged marriage as far as I know. They were together for 8 years. I think they’ve known each other for much longer, though.”

“Oh he definitely fumbled the bag.”

Yuji stares at him with his mouth agape. His eyes suddenly widened as he dramatically gasped, “Is that why you accidentally called Y/N sensei ‘mom’ ?!”

Megumi feels blood rising from his cheeks. He quickly looks down at his shoes once more to prevent Nobara and Yuji from seeing him embarrassed. Both of them started giggling.

“So that means you call Gojo-sensei ‘daddy’ huh?” Nobara smirked at the onyx haired boy. Megumi chokes on his drink before muttering a ‘shut up, I don’t.’

“So why did they break up?” Yuuji asks.

“I’m not really sure. They try to keep us out of their problems. Y/N just packed up one day and that was it. We kept in touch but she made me promise not to tell Gojo anything. Anyway, that’s it, stop questioning me.”

Nobara points a finger accusingly at the empty parking lot, “I bet he has commitment issues. Yeah, just by looking at him, he’s definitely the type to have one.”

“They have been together, for 8 years.” Megumi deadpans.

“Damn, adults are complicated.” Yuuji whines. “They’d look great together though.”

“He still fumbled! I bet my new perfume on that. To be honest, I don’t really see Y/N sensei with him. He seems chaotic enough as he is.”

“That’s a little harsh.”

“Well, she tolerates us,” Yuji adds, “Besides I don’t think Gojo-sensei will ask her out. Earlier, I saw Y/N-sensei on a date. I just forgot to tell you guys.”

Even Megumi doesn’t know that.

“What?!” Nobara exclaims, standing up. “C’mon, it’s 2 am. I need to get my beauty rest. I’ll get the Y/N and Gojo lore this week. I can’t wait to interview Geto-sensei!”

“That’s invading their privacy.” Megumi sighs.

Nobara and Yuuji kept asking Megumi questions, theorizing and pestering each other. The three of them talked (read: argue) on the way home, too engrossed in the mystery of Gojo and Y/N’s relationship.

Meanwhile they fail to notice their teacher casually leaning on the wall beside the convenience store, chuckling at his students’ curiosity.

Gojo shakes his head before heading off to god knows where.

gojo u naughty boi why are u out at 2 am wanna read more?

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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epione-xx · 1 year

Text

BABY, PLEASE

WARNING. THIS. IS. A. SMUT!!!! And a fever dream. Idk what was happening when I wrote this but…eh.

CONTAINS: breeding kink, master/pet play, situationship, lingerie + nudes, unsafe sex (plz never do this in real life)

There also could be a pt2 if you guys want 👀

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

‘Lmao no, I’m with a guy’

Damian gripped his phone tightly in his hand and frowned, reading and re-reasing the text again before texting back himself, only using one word.

‘Who?’

And when she didnt reply, he scoffed an threw his phone into his backseat. The crinkle of a bag signalling it had been caught and he hand taking it further than intended.

And then he tapped the wheel impatiently, thinning and thinking and…then finally turning around to grab his phone again to see if she had texted back, and seeing she hadn’t yet, he groaned and leaned back before grabbing the bag of his newly bought ‘essentials’.

Now these essentials weren’t really…well what you think. Instead it was a pack of condoms and other various things that ranged from a box of chocolates to a newly bought phone charger since he had forgotten his own.

He always forgot his charger when going to her house, being fair…most of the times he went there when he was frustrated with his father and then she would…help him through it…

And it started off like that. He had a fight with his father, stormed out and drove off in his car before remembering that he had forgotten any type of protection, which then lead into a trip to the store, which lead to him buying everything he thought was needed before texting his hook up to se did she wanted anything…

And that’s why the dreaded text came. The one that said she was with a guy.

Damian pursed his lips and decided to indulge himself in one of the chocolates he had gotten, unwrapping the shiny blue foil of it before popping it into his mouth and opting to scroll thought instagram for a bit.

His instagram wasn’t interesting per say. A bunch of art and a few posts from various friends here and there…it was all boring until he saw the little green dot under her photo.

Now was his chance.

‘What happened to the guy?’ He texts ‘wouldn’t be active on instagram if you ever evening fucked. We all know your not competent enough to do two things at once’

—

Rolling over her bed and pulling her pillow to her chest, Y/n snorted at Damian’s text and rolled her eyes, that mother fucker was just jealous.

‘Didn’t work out. He was way to kinky’

she was hoping for a rise out of him, something- anything, brining her lip she watched as the little dotted bubble pop up before going back down again.

Letting out a sigh she rolled over again and carefully looks to her wardrobe, maybe she had a good idea…

And so getting up, she carefully walked over. Careful to not make any sudden noise in hope she wouldn’t wake anyone up.

She dressed herself in a elegant green set of lace- a new one that she had gotten for Damian…using Damian’s card, being fair- he asked he too.

Soon y/n set up the camera and placed it close to her thighs, you couldn’t see her face- but that was the point. She knew Damian hates not being able to see her face…

And so she snapped a shot, sending it straight to him with the caption. ‘I feel so empty without you’

—

Damian stared wide eyed, his pants were getting tight and he could physically feel himself grow to be in more pain as he stared at the photo- how dare she do this to him!

And so he set the phone down and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm…before his phone dinged again.

And before he could eve consider what the text could be, he picked it up and hurriedly searched for her name.

Bingo, it was another photo.

This time it was in the same set but the camera was more focused on her chest, showing her boobs off proudly with the caption ‘id like to be fuller, please daddy.’

And Damian stared, and searched for words before texting one thing back.

‘What if I fill you with my cum? My heirs? You wouldn’t feel so lonely and empty then would you? You would be filled with your lord all the time…’

His pants tightened. He never realised that he could have a thing for her in that way…he never realised he had a breeding kink.

And so he set off to her place

—

The woman at the other end of the line flushed deeply at Damian’s words and squeezed her legs together, that had to be int of the most sexy things he had ever said to her…and imagining herself pregnant, full with his child…and even better, being claimed by him in that way…it excited her.

There were so many things she was thinking of now. Things she had never even dreamed off…it was like she was in a haze.

But knowing Damian, he was teasing her. He would never make any of that a reality…so she set off for the shower, trying to wash away the arousal.

…or so she thought, the bathroom door opened, Samoa standing there both flushed and hard as he looked at her.

“Damian!” She shrieked as she stared at him “what the hell! How did you get in?”

“Spare key” he stalked closer, a primal instinct in his eyes as he stared at her and slowly Pepe’s the glass door.

Her face flushed aa she stared at him, watching as he underdress himself. “What are you doing?” She asks, almost sounding meek.

“You think I was kidding?” He asks her, looking her body up and down before licking his lips. His cock growing even harder. “You think I was joking beloved?”

She felt herself grow wetter and she slowly nods “I mean, I guess I was?” She says. “I never pictured you as the da-“

She didn’t get to finish, Damian had turned off the taps and had picked her up. Throwing her over his shoulder before he set off too her bedroom. Placing her on the bed….right in front of her floor to ceiling mirror.

“Look at yourself” he set her upon his lap, fingers dancing across her stomach and chest “look at how pretty you’d be holding my heir, how beautiful you would look…” he sucked hickies into her neck.

“You would be so swollen, so needy..and I’d fuck you every single day.” He purred

Her head rolled back into his neck and she arched her back as Damian’s fingers went to her nipples and he pinched them lightly, rolling the buds between his finger tips before he grinds into her.

“Your beautiful tits…they would hold so much milk” he smirked “it would leak out of you as I fucked you, you wouldn’t be able to control it and if drink from you every day”

She shuddered and closed her eyes as she felt this hand move from her chest to her stomach, rubbing lightly before he dived the down and pulled her thighs apart.

“Would you enjoy having my baby?” He purred “like a good little slut?”

She gasps and nods in a hurry “I would, I would so much my lord. As long as you were next to me I would enjoy anything~” she clenched around thin air and moans.

He smirked and slowly began to rub her clit, making sure to tease her. “You would be so sexy” he hummed “so beautiful, I’d fuck you all throughout your labour”

She flushed even more “Damian!” She whines loudly “please~ please fuck me now. Put your baby in me-“

She gasps as she was picked up and throw onto the bed mercilessly, thought being opened by his rough and calloused hands before he looked at her “are you ready for my child? Or do you need me to put a condom on?”

She stared at him and felt herself grow hotter “I need your baby. I need to be pregnant with your baby…to be your queen”

He smirked and nods before he slowly thrusted into her, letting out a satisfied moan at how she clenched around him.

She gasps in pleasure and clawed at his back “just give me a moment”

In a sweet moment, he nods na splayed a soft kiss on her lips before trailing it down to her chest “why don’t I show you how good it’ll feel?”

She nods and moaned as his lips began to suck on her nipple, soon enough she was grinding on him- begging for more.

And that’s when he began to thrust. Lifting his head up and staring at her deep in the eyes as the bed creaked beneath them.

“Good girl” he groaned “such a good girl for me. You’ll be rewarded pet~” he moans as he kissed her.

She gasps and moans as she dig her nails into his back, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Damian!” It was a sharp gasp, her toes curled as she came around his cock, which then sent him over the edge to cum inside her, burying himself as far into her as he could before he felt himself explode and paint her walls white.

She took deep breaths, heart beating out of her chest as she looked up at him “thank you master” she whispers

He also took deep breaths and pressed soft kisses to her hairline “thank you beloved” he says “please. Be my one and only…be my wife”

She smiles and nods “always”

Even if they had skipped a couple of steps…they were both happy in the end…and who knew what the future held.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #batboys #batfam #batfam x reader #damily #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne smut #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x female reader #damian wayne x you

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skzfairyy · 10 months

Text

11:23pm

Pairings: Lee Minho x reader!

Genre: fluff, fluff, a bit of angst if you squint (Lee Know being... Lee Know, ya know)

Warnings: lots of kisses !!

Wc: 743 words

AN: Minho being soft behind closed doors was on my mind and it just had to be written lmao -Y2

The boys had been in the living room enjoying each other's company for a couple hours now. With their new album coming out soon, they were extremely busy with fully packed schedules, meaning she’s rarely gotten to see Minho and his bandmates have any actual fun all-together. So being the courteous girlfriend that she was, Y/N decided to give them their space tonight, and let them enjoy the little bit of free time they did have.

Her living room had been turned into the ultimate video game lover's dream, thanks to Felix and Jeongin bringing over their consoles for the group to play on. Minho had ordered some pizzas and made sure they were fully stocked up on their favorite snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, Y/N took this time to binge her favorite show with the fur babies to keep her company.

She was holed away in her home office, comfortably dressed in her favorite loungewear set and fluffy socks. She’d made it to episode fourteen before noticing the previous noise from the tv and loud laughter of her boyfriend and his friends had quieted down.

“Shall we go check on Daddy, kitties? It seems like everyone’s finally left.”

With Soonie cuddled in her arms, her slipper-covered feet pad against the ground softly as she makes her way over to the door. Cracking it open, Doongie and Dori dash past her ankles and towards different nooks in the apartment that they like to hide in. With a skip of her teeth at the sudden betrayal, Y/N walks into the now-empty living room.

“Boys and their need to have every snack known to man while they game…” Y/N grumbles aloud as she lets the cat in her arms go to pick up empty snack wrappers from the coffee table.

Though it’s not a giant mess, she takes it upon herself to tidy up the common area as she waits for Minho to return from walking his friends out.

Soonie announces Minho’s arrival with a soft meow as Y/N just finishes her cleaning. She’s now scrolling through her phone on the couch when her boyfriend appears in the doorway.

“Everyone get home okay?”

“Yeah. Innie left one of his controllers, so I met him at that convenience store down the road so he didn’t have to come all the way back." He leans down to pet the cat’s head briefly before walking into the living room.

“Hosting is so exhausting.” He adds after plopping down onto the couch, his eyes closed as his body sagged against the cushions as if spending time with his best friends was the most draining thing in the world.

“Yeah.. but you still had fun.” A small giggle tumbles from her lips as she puts her phone down to look at him, giving Minho her undivided attention.

She watches him silently with a small smile, his nose twitches briefly as his eyebrows furrow. Sometimes he’ll be doing the most mundane things and she can’t help but feel overwhelmed by how beautiful he is. After leaving her usually stoic boyfriend alone for most of the day, Y/N couldn’t help herself as she leaned forward, kissing his frown gently before moving on, peppering light kisses over his face.

In return Minho grumbles, faking his displeasure as his own hands contradict him. They move to rest on her exposed thigh, his fingers tracing small circles as she smothers him with affection.

“If the boys saw you enjoying this, you’d never hear the end of it.” She teases between her kisses.

“Who said I was enjoying it?” Minho’s eyebrow raises as he opens one eye to look at her.

“Oh if that’s the case then I can go-“ Y/N halts all affection and moves to stand up from the couch. Only for him to reach out and grasp her wrist, quickly pulling her back down into his lap.

“No! I was joking! Keep kissing me, it feels nice.” He whines out as his arms move to wrap around her waist with his face near her own, ready for more affection.

“You’re impossible, Lee Minho.” Y/N’s laughter rings out through their apartment as her finger comb through his hair lazily and her soft kisses once again decorate his face.

“You love it.” He voices with a small smirk, pinching her sides playfully before catching her lips into an actual kiss, which Y/N returns with a smile.

Y2K masterlist

#y2kstories #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #straykids #skz fluff #skz recs

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satrs · 10 months

Text

𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; you find out about the class loner's fantasies about you, so you decide to give him the real deal.

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Nerdy!Virgin!Choso x fem!reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.3k

Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! (College AU). Virginity loss(Choso). Nicknames(pretty boy). riding. overstim. praise kink.

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ nerdy choso is just a desperate need atp. But idk how to feel abt this bc it's literally written by crazy lec LMAO.

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

"Mr. Kamo, are you alright?" the sound of his teacher snapped the young college student out of his daydreams, attention now back to the front of the class as his demeanor stiffened.

Some class members snickered at his reaction and others straight up ignored him like he wasn't even there. It's like always- he is an irrelevant member of society until he is of use to them. 'Kamo do you have this homework?' or 'Kamo I need help with this and that?' are the only times when people converse with him normally.

"Gosh, he's such a dork. Right Y/N?" The mention of your name made his ears perk up, slightly looking in your direction as your friend whispered to you. "Just leave him alone for Christ's sake. He didn't do anything abnormal. Daydreaming is completely common, especially for people like you."

But you? You were different. You're not exactly popular around the campus, but sure well-known. You were breathtakingly gorgeous but didn't make it your only personality trait. You- Y/N L/N are the only person that made him feel like he was a part of this college, not just some nerdy loner.

Your words caused the man to try to hide his chuckle but you still caught it, flashing him a cocky smile with a quick wink, startling him. You noticed his flustered expression, smiling to yourself before returning your attention to the teacher's teachings.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

„Are you free right now, Choso?“

His eyes shot up at the sound of your voice, halting his movements of packing his bag as his eyes turned wide at the mention of his first name. „M-me? Uhm, yeah, s-sure. What’s up?“

You chuckled at his nervous form, biting the inside of your cheek. „You know, I still got no partner for the biology project and I thought, maybe we could partner up?“

His head was about to explode and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest, quickly nodded his head in agreement, swinging his packed bag over his shoulder, anxiously holding onto it.

A smile spread across your face, clapping your hands together in excitement as you abruptly took his hand in yours, heading out of the almost empty classroom. „Let’s go to my dorm right now, yeah?“

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

He awkwardly sat on your bed, cheeks painted in a slight red tone whilst you sat next to him, already changed into a more comfortable hoodie, thighs visible as the hoodie revealed much more than Choso thought he could handle.

„So, I‘m more interested than school for you right now? That’s a surprise.“ Your teasing made him clear his throat, quickly averting his gaze to the textbook on his lap, opening it to the right page as he began to explain the steps the both of you would have to keep in mind, trying his best to ignore the feeling you ignited in him.

It was hard for him to focus when you sat so close to him, your bare thighs lightly brushing his legs, dick twitching in need.

And you on the other hand barely listened, gaze stuck to the erected length in his pants, the big imprint causing your thighs to press together in anticipation.

No longer able to hold your desires, you pulled the textbook from his grasp, earning a confused look from the young man. His perplexed expression was to die for as you climbed on top of his lap, hoodie riding up to showcase your panties, leaving little to no mind for the imagination.

You hushed his stuttering with a finger placed on top of his lips, grinning down at him as you sat right onto his hard cock, his whine causing you to hum in amusement.

„I’m no dummy, Choso. I see how you’re eyeing me in class.“ He tried to defend himself, face heating up in embarrassment, only to be silenced by you again, this time by the press of your lip against his, your tongue finding its way into his mouth, caging him into a hot and messy kiss.

He shamelessly moaned into your mouth, hand carefully resting on your hip as you began to move your hips against his, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as the fabric of his pants caught onto your sensitive bud.

You quickly broke the kiss, leaving his lips with a string of salvia still connecting the both of you as you made quick work to his pants, pulling his throbbing cock free. „So big.“

He hissed at the cold air hitting his sensitive tip, hips subconsciously bucking up into your touch as your fingers wrapped around him, sensually stroking his dick as pre cum leaking from his slit.

„Y/N, I‘ve never done t-this“ you hushed him up with a quick peak to his lips, caging your lower lip between your teeth as you slid your panties from your legs, alining his leaking tip to your aching hole.

„Don’t worry pretty boy, “your hips slowly slid down his cock, his head falling back onto your bed as a sinful moan escaped his lips, bracing himself on his elbows to see his cock disappear in your glistening pussy. „I‘ll take good care of you,“ you’re words got cut off by a soft moan from you as you felt his thick cock fill you up. „ make this a first time for you to remember.“

His fingers tangled in the sheets below him, teeth grinding as he desperately tried to hide his moans, failing to do so as your walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper with each grind of your hips.

He won't be able to hold it in any longer, he already felt his impending orgasm threatening to wash over his body, his thighs clenching underneath you. A grin played itself on your lips as you noticed his behavior change, your movements only speeding up, anticipating to watch Choso unravel underneath you. Which he did not long after, your praises filling his ears as his mind exploded at the wave of euphoria overcoming him, his hand flinging to his mouth, muffled whimpers escaping his palm.

Your breathing turned ragged, the rhythm of your hips growing sloppy as you leaned down his level, taking in the sight of his disheveled form. "You're doing so good, Choso. I'm close too." The pathetic whine that flew past his lips made you bite your lip in pleasure, the knot inside of you tightening at the feeling of his meaty length filling your guts, tip repeatedly hitting that particular gushy spot. You threw your head back in euphoria, supporting yourself with your hands on his chest as you felt his length twitch inside of you, warm cum dripping out of your hole.

"W-wait, I can't-" he cut himself off with a loud moan, hands flying to your hips in an attempt to stop you, the overstimulation getting to his head. It was too much, but he couldn't stop you because it felt so good having his long-time crush on riding him into oblivion, feeling his cum trickling down his balls and onto the sheets.

"Just a little more. Don't you want to feel me cum around you?" This made him frantically nod his head, pleading an approval, 'yes' coming from him in between grunts and wails. "Fuck" His sensitive cock twitched inside of you at your words, starry eyes shooting up your face, taking in your face twisted in pleasure, your fingers gripping his shirt as you came, your moans like angelic music to his ears.

You giggled as the both of you caught your breaths, his worn-out length slipping out of you, more of his seed dripping from your cunt. Your fingers sneaked to his face, brushing some of his hair out of his face as you admired his heated cheeks.

"Do you got a girlfriend, Choso?" His eyes widened at your words, a slightly embarrassed expression decorating his face. "N-no." Your eyes lit up at his answer, clapping your hands together in excitement. "So, tell me," you leaned down, breath tickling his nose as your eyes stared through his soul. "do you want to be my boyfriend?"

His perplexed face made you wholeheartedly laugh, expecting orbs to look at him. "I-I would love too but, don't we need to go on a date first?" You grinned down at him at the sound of his weak voice, placing a small peek at his temple.

"This is our first date, no?"

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴶᴶᴷ #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso headcanons #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x female reader #choso fanfic #jujutsu kaisen choso #x reader

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wooataes · 6 months

Text

in case of emergency - ljh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, slight comfort, one swear

Summary: an emergency backpack makes Jihoon’s day a little brighter.

A/N: this is a story I’ve had in my docs for nearly 4 years so I repurposed it into a Jihoon oneshot to get rid of my writers block lmao enjoy!

- Tae 🩷🌸✨

Masterlist

“Jihoon-ah?” An unknown voice filled Jihoon’s ears as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hyung,” his soft voice croaked.

“You’re calling fairly early. It’s not even 2pm yet. How was your date?”

Jihoon was holding a single rose in his hand, taking long strides towards the train station with a defeated look on his face as he let his legs take him to where he needed to go. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. No, he was crushed, if he was completely honest. But he wouldn’t let Seungcheol know that.

Said date was supposed to start at 12pm sharp. He didn’t know what he did wrong to make her stand him up. He did everything correct, he believed. She had given him her number, he was never disrespectful in their texts, and he was a complete gentleman to her. Her texts from the night before lead him to believe she was eager to see him again too. After a simple suggestion by her for a coffee date to get to know each other, Jihoon was disappointed as he sat and waited in the booth for over an hour before deciding to give up with slumped shoulders and a bruised ego. To top it all off, Jihoon had to get caught in a fucking heavy downpour of rain without and umbrella as he made his next move.

What a fucking day.

“I’ll be there in a few hours. I’ll text you.” Jihoon sighed quietly as he placed his phone back into his pocket, stepping onto the train, oblivious to the state that he’s in.

With a frown, he paced past each cart, frown only deepening when he sees almost every one full. Of course it’s his luck that on the one stormy day that he gets rejected and drenched with rain, he’d end up on the full train with standing room left.

Finally, with a grateful sigh, he sees the last cart has only one occupant, chewing his lip as he stepped inside, opening the door a fraction to see you alone.

Your head stays down, long curls curtailing your face from Jihoon, not noticing his presence as your pencil moves carelessly along your sheet of paper.

“Excuse me,” his voice is soft and timid as he steps into the cart. “May I?” He gestures to the empty double seat across from you. “Everywhere else is full.”

Jimin is shocked as your head lifts, adjusting your glasses as a small gasp falls from your pink lips. It was only then Jihoon realized his appearance. His grey T-shirt was now sticking to him, leather jacket just as tight as his drenched hair flops hazardously over his eyes. He almost flinches as you jump up quickly, discarding your fluffy wool sweater and taking a hold of his wrists, gently placing him down in your seat and sitting your coat on his knee. Wordlessly, he watches as you grab a small pink backpack from the ground, opening it up and pulling out a soft while towel and passing it to him with a sweet smile as he just stares in confusion.

“You’re the first person I can use my emergency backpack on, congratulations.” You smiled softly as he just stares. “Umbrella, spare towels, bandages, even a packed lunch, everything you could think of in an emergency.”

Jihoon was in awe. You were the first person today who had lent a kind hand to him, and he could feel the overwhelming emotions bubble in his chest.

“Please, put that sweater on,” you insisted quietly. “You’ll catch pneumonia otherwise.”

“Oh god, I’m in your seat…” Jihoon stuttered quietly as he began to rise.

“It’s directly under the heating. You need to dry.” You waved your hand dismissively, a grin washing over your features. “Please, use whatever you need.” You placed the backpack by his feet, Jimin chewing on his lip.

Come on, Jihoon, he thought to himself as he slipped the jacket off his shoulders, only to be filled with the warmth of your sweater seconds later, you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. Especially in front of a cute girl. He was shocked at his own thoughts, having been rejected mere minutes ago by another girl.

Jihoon softly started to pat down his damp hair with the towel, giving you a small but grateful smile in the process. You simply smile back, curling up on the seats opposite him and fiddling with the pencil in your hand. Jihoon couldn’t help but take in your appearance as you distracted yourself with your book. Thick rimmed glasses framed your round face perfectly, your light eyes scanning over your book. Your long hair, now having curled from the rain, sat against your shoulders as your foot bounced to an unknown beat, a soft hum complimenting the silence through your lips quietly. You were now only wearing a plain white shirt with a black skirt with pastel pink hearts adorning the fabric, complimenting your whole look with your pastel pink converse. Jihoon felt his cheeks flush when he noticed the small rose tattooed ever so delicately against the crook of where your inner arm meets your elbow, feeling himself shift in his seat as he looks at the drenched and wilted rose on the empty seat beside him, only reminding him of his shitty day he had experienced.

“Hmm.. fate?” Your voice breaks the silence as Jihoon’s dark eyes met yours in confusion. You gestured to the rose beside him and the one embedded in your arm, a small smile forming on your lips. “The rose. Maybe it’s fate we met.” You joked with a soft giggle as he gave you a quiet smile. “Sorry,” You whispered after a beat. “You seem like you’ve had a rough day..” you trailed off.

“Oh, no,” Jihoon interrupted quickly, neatly folding the towel and placing it on the seat beside him. “It’s actually helping, joking around.” He smiled a bit brighter now. “Thank you, again.. for the,” he gestured to the backpack, “emergency things.” He let the warmth of your sweater take over him, finally settling into his seat. “It’s nice to see someone worried about others. It’s refreshing.”

“That’s what I aim for!” Your bright grin lights up the whole room, Jihoon’s soul included as he can’t help but chuckle to himself. People like you were hard to come by, he thought to himself. Not many girls are so sweet and caring to others. You seemed the type to be so trusting and welcoming to others. “You don’t mind if I hum, do you? I tend to sing or hum while I work..” your cheeks start to turn a soft shade of pink. “I can stay quiet if you’d like to be alone with your thoughts.”

“No,” Jihoon smiled as he let his head rest on the window. “That’s fine, I think it’d make me feel a bit better, if you don’t mind, of course.” He chuckled at your relieved smile adorning your face, nodding softly as you turned to a fresh page of your book, your eyes sharp as you began to work.

“So, what brings you on this serendipitous ride to Busan, good sir?” You hum, not lifting your head as you scribble on your page. “Sorry, I should’ve asked for your name.”

“Jihoon.” He responds quietly, letting the warmth run through his body as it heats him up. “Ah.. decided to travel back home and see a friend of mine who lives there.”

“That’s always exciting, though.” You smile. “It’s always good to catch up with friends.”

Jihoon sighs for a moment. You’re so optimistic. He wishes he was feeling as optimistic as you were after his failed date.

“Yeah, that is true.” He agrees, his eyes fluttering shut. He feels a little guilty, letting sleep take over him so quickly. He feels like he should make more conversation with the kind stranger, but you don’t seem to mind, going back to humming and drawing as he falls into a dreamless sleep.

When Jihoon stirs and opens his eyes, he’s surprised to hear the voice of the conductor over the speaker announce that they have pulled into Busan Station. He quickly begins to rise from his seat before frowning in confusion.

There’s a heavy weight against him. He looks down to see a small blanket draped on him, probably from the emergency backpack you had given him. At the thought of you, he turns to look at the now empty seat across from him where you once sat.

He is a bit disappointed, he wanted to at least know your name to thank you for your small act of kindness. He frowns as he sees a single folded piece of paper and a now dried out rose sitting on top. Jihoon reaches out to take the rose, recognizing it as the rose he had on him as he boarded the train. He turns it over in his fingers for a moment before unfolding the piece of paper. His eyes widen as he sees a roughly scribbled sketch of himself leaning against the window of the train, watching the scenery go by. It is near perfect, in his opinion, and he is in awe by your skill. Looking down in the bottom right hand corner, Jihoon sees a small note.

Jihoon,

I hope your day gets better. Keep the backpack, please.

Sorry if this was insanely creepy. :)

Y/N.

He raises his eyebrows at your neat handwriting, his fingertips tracing over your name quietly with a little smile before quickly stuffing the blanket and your sweater into the backpack still by his feet to get off the train at the sounding of the last calls resounding over the speaker.

“Hey.” Seungcheol smiled as he spots his friend making his way towards him. “How was the trip?”

“Ah, was fine.” Jihoon hums, holding the small pink backpack over his shoulder as his friend’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why did you bring a pink bag with you?”

“Oh.” He laughs, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ear. “‘S a long story.”

“Ohhhkay.” Seungcheol looks confused but shrugs when he sees the contentment on Jihoon’s face.

“Are we ready to go?”

“Almost.” Seungcheol keeps looking around at the countless people walking around the meeting area. “My cousin is here somewhere too. We gotta pick her up and take her back to mine. Is that alright?”

“Sure.” He agrees quickly. “I technically hijacked your weekend anyway.”

“Oppa!” A happy voice calls out as Seungcheol chuckles, opening out his arms as he readies himself.

“Hey, you!” He calls, laughing as he scoops his cousin into his arms, Jihoon staring with wide eyes.

“Jihoon-ah,” Seungcheol grins as he places his cousin on the ground. “This is-”

“Y/N.”

Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @lisaaaaamanobannn @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jovialpartyneckoaf @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sarahisupset

Jihoon Taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery

#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #Lee Jihoon #Lee Jihoon fluff #lee jihoon angst #woozi fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen woozi #seventeen au #woozi au #woozi scenarios #woozi imagines

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here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

look down on me like that - 10 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 13.1k

contains: there are some serious mental health moments and topics discussed in this chapter (and not all of them handled well 😵‍💫) - this includes mentions of anxiety and su1c1dal ideation, reader experiencing a panic attack, and there's just like.... quite a lot of self-loathing, emotional constipation, and horrible choices being made all around. would also maybe say some hints at gaslighting if you squint. please take care of yourselves for this one 💜 and yes..... no smut warnings for this one 😬 sorry 😬

A/N: besties...... hold my hand and trust the process, mkay?

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for betaing and for doing extra hand holding on this one because 😵‍💫 omg it's a lot and it was a lot to write lmao

read on AO3!

chapter nine | masterlist

~*~

The headache hits before you even open your eyes, like an ice pick driven straight through your skull.

You roll over with a soft groan of despair, burying your face between the pillows, reaching one arm out as far you can, as if in search of something. Your splayed fingertips only find the down comforter; it’s cool to the touch.

With the kind of deep inhale that can only be conjured by an early wake-up with a terrible hangover, you blink your eyes open, immediately squinting at the harsh morning light.

The bed is empty on the other side. You sit up slowly, shivering a little. The room feels unsteady around you.

You press your face into your hands, trying to wake up enough to think through your headache. Last night… Last night. It feels like a dream you’ll soon lose the details of. The Grammys, the afterparty, K-town. It doesn’t feel real.

Yoongi said he loves you.

Your stomach churns.

So where the fuck is he?

The sound of a drawer opening makes your head snap up, and you quickly kick the bedsheets off, trying to ignore the way the world tilts as you get to your feet and pad out into the living room.

Yoongi is kneeling beside his open suitcase, folding up the clothes he wore earlier in the weekend and carefully placing them inside. He reaches for his toiletries bag, zipped up on the couch next to him, and sets it atop the last stack of clothing.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, rubbing sleep from the corners of your eyes. The words slide together, almost gibberish. You think you might still be drunk.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Yoongi mutters, taking a final once-over of the contents of his suitcase before zipping it shut. He gets to his feet, then stoops down to turn it upright and extend the handle. “I’ve got a car to the airport about to pull up downstairs.”

“I— what?” You shake your head, confused. You’re barely alive, let alone packed or ready to go. “It’s so early. Our flight’s not til this afternoon.”

He’s already crossing the room, grabbing his laptop off the desk to slide into his shoulder bag, then reaching for his watch. “I had a change of plans.”

“You what?” You don’t understand how you’re so far behind on this, especially given that you’re the one who’s supposed to have the schedule committed to memory.

Yoongi sighs as he turns to face you, still fiddling with his watch, clearly exasperated. It's only now that he’s held still long enough for you to realize he’s wearing his glasses. “I’m going to Tokyo for a few days to work with some talent. There’s a whole thread in your inbox about it. Feel free to read it at your leisure.”

The dry tone of his voice stings like a slap to the face, enough to make you recoil. You take an unsure step back. “Okay, when did this happen?”

He slow-blinks, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve somehow gone back in time, like you’re standing in front of him on your first day of work. Like he’s your enemy all over again.

“I’ve been up for a while,” Yoongi answers flatly. “Any more questions?”

Your back teeth stick together, tense. The room is too bright, Yoongi’s voice too loud, all of this happening too fast.

“Uh,” you start, less than eloquent. “Can we— talk?” Yoongi stares at you pointedly until you feel forced to continue. “About last night?”

“Let’s see.” He pretends to mull it over, and dread creeps up your spine.

“I lost at the Grammys, almost got in a fight, drank my body weight in alcohol. The last thing I remember is… barking.” You’d smile at the memory, but your lips are pulled too tight at the sour taste of his words. “I assume you dragged my drunk ass back here and I passed out, then I stumbled out of bed around four this morning and promptly became very well acquainted with the bathroom floor. Did I miss anything?”

The question punches an ache behind your ribs.

“Don’t fuck with me, Min Yoongi.” Your voice comes out weaker than you would’ve liked, but it’s getting hard to breathe.

“What else?” he asks, still going faster than you can keep up with. “I was an asshole? Gave you embarrassing intel you’ll be using as blackmail when we go back to work? I didn’t barf on your shoes, did I?”

Why is he asking you?

You bring a hand to your temple, trying to rub out your splitting headache so you can process his words. “Are you… telling me you don’t remember?”

There’s a flash of something in Yoongi’s eyes, and though he drops his gaze, he doesn’t quite manage to hide the way his face twists. “If I said anything, let’s just say I didn’t mean it.”

No. No, no, no. Your world goes spinning. He can’t do this.

There’s a lump in your throat, so thick you can scarcely breathe. You try to swallow around it. “Yoongi, what the fuck is happening right now?”

You swear you can see it in his eyes, the wall going back up. It’s infuriating: he’s right fucking there, yet suddenly somehow unreachable. Impenetrable.

“I am going to Tokyo,” he says simply. “You are… doing whatever you want.” You stare at him, overwhelmed and so fucking confused. He stares right back. “I can still upgrade your seat to first class. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Some final thread snaps inside you, and your delayed anger finally kicks in. “You think that’s what I care about right now? I’m not your fucking charity case.”

He outright rolls his eyes. “Jesus. Forget I asked.”

As if to signal that the conversation is over, he slings his bag across his shoulder and heads for the door, suitcase in tow.

“Yoongi.” You hate the way your voice shakes when you say his name. He turns back to face you in the threshold, his expression unreadable.

You don’t know how to say it. You can’t say it.

“So what, then?” you try instead. “I’m just supposed to… forget it?”

That you said you love me? That I might have been ready to say it back?

His mouth pulls into a flat line, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. Each second of silence that passes feels like another twist of the knife lodged in your heart.

“Guess so.”

And just like that, the door is slamming shut behind him.

In your head, you chase after him. Yank open the hotel door, sprint down the hallway, call his name loud enough to stop him. You tell him everything that’s been building up inside of you, let all the ugly truths out for him to see, said aloud for the first time, undeniably real. He drops his bag in the hallway, grabs you, kisses you breathless. He stays.

But you can’t make yourself move. Can’t bear the thought of unzipping yourself right up the middle, standing in front of him with every last wall torn down, defenseless and asking for the worst hurt you can imagine. Life has taught you better than that.

Your knees hit the hotel carpet as the tears start to fall. In your head you might be brave, but here in the real world, you’re scared. Too scared to do anything but watch him leave.

~*~

“I’m so fucking confused, Mochi.”

You’re curled up on the couch in your living room with your face pressed into Jimin’s shoulder and his arms wrapped tight around you. Delirious from a thirteen hour flight and the time change, your suitcase still lying in the hallway by the front door where you dropped it. True to his word, your best friend showed up within the hour, a bottle of rosé and a pint of ice cream in tow.

There’s no room left to keep lying, to pretend you don’t care about Yoongi, that it doesn’t mean anything. Not when it hurts this bad, bad enough that it feels like you can’t fucking breathe. At least the tears have finally stopped, now that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the collar of Jimin’s sweatshirt.

To his credit, Jimin seems to find no joy in your meltdown, and you’re grateful for it. The last thing you need on top of all the pain is him gloating about being right. You both know he is, always has been. The things you spent so long trying to deny seem obvious now, in the harsh light of day, at the bottom of this emotional hangover.

Funny how that works.

When you pull away with a sniff, Jimin sighs a little and gently untangles himself from you to get to his feet. You bring a hand up to swipe at some of the wetness still stuck to your cheeks, then reach for the bottle of wine while he slips into the kitchen.

“How did you know I’d need this?” you ask as you twist open the screw top. Your throat is rubbed raw from exhaustion, and from so much fucking crying. “You had that little faith in shit working out?”

Jimin returns with two wine glasses and two spoons just as you ask the question, and he pauses in the threshold. The unsure look on his face makes your stomach twist. Your best friend never looks at you like that.

“I have to tell you something, babygirl.”

You can feel your chest starting to tighten again as he sinks back down onto the cushion next to you, gingerly taking the bottle from your hands to pour a little in each glass. It’s like he’s biding his time, trying to delay some sort of inevitable reality.

“Please just say it.” Your voice comes out in a thick whisper.

He thuds the bottle back onto the coffee table with another soft sigh. “I’m leaving Seoul.”

The words sweep over you like a tidal wave, heavy enough you drag you under to drown. “You’re… leaving?”

“Not forever,” Jimin says quickly, but the look on his face as he takes a sip from his glass is telling. “You remember the group I did the concert with?” His gaze flits over to catch your nod, and he continues.

“They booked a whole international tour. Asia, Europe, North and South America. It didn’t look like they were going to scout any new dancers, but then someone got injured last-minute and they personally called me to ask if I could cover. And it’s so short-notice but…”

There’s a fire in his eyes when he looks up at you again, all determined passion. “I just feel like this could be the opportunity I’ve been working so hard for. And Wonho has been so supportive and understanding about it. He helped talk me through it, reminded me how much I want this. So I said yes. And I’m going.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and you can only nod, trying to wrap your mind around it all. “For how long?”

He grimaces. “Six months, at least? Could be more if they decide to extend it.”

A fresh tear slides down your cheek before you can stop it. “Fuck, okay. Wow. When do you go?”

Jimin downs the rest of his wine, then finally answers. “I’ll be honest, the timing is bad. I really thought you’d be coming home with good news, so it would soften the blow a little.”

“Mochi,” you press him, more tears already threatening your waterline. You can feel your heart on the precipice of shattering into a million pieces— you just need him to fucking say it.

“Tonight’s my last night,” he admits.

There is a voice in your head that knows how you should respond. You should be enthusiastically happy for Jimin, and proud of him, and you are; you know deep down that you are. And you should be reacting to this unquestionably good news the way a best friend would: excited, screaming, hugging him, pouring another glass so you can toast to his success, telling him how great he’ll be.

But you’re sunk so deep in your own pain, you can’t help feeling… betrayed. Abandoned by your best friend, just when you need him most.

You set your wine glass down and press your face into your palms, trying to breathe, trying to stop the ache of a suppressed sob that squeezes tight in your throat.

“It’s not forever,” Jimin reiterates, and you know he’s trying to be kind, but you whip your head to look at him, suddenly aggravated. You can only imagine what he must see staring back at him: your glassy eyes gone red from crying, inset with deep shadows from exhaustion, tear tracks staining your cheeks.

“A little more notice would’ve been nice,” you respond as you pick your drink up again. The words come out harsh, jagged at the edges.

Jimin’s brows raise in clear surprise. “I’m sorry?”

The sweet wine goes bitter on your tongue, and you swallow it with a grimace. “I just think it’s interesting that you had all this fucking time to talk to your boyfriend about it, but not two seconds for the person who is supposedly your best friend.”

You can see a muscle tighten in his jaw. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Are you?”

“Do I really have to remind you what happened the last time we actually spent an evening together?” Jimin asks, and the razor-sharp tone to his voice already tells you that you’ve made a huge mistake, that you should’ve just choked all your bitter feelings down with your drink.

“Because in case you need help putting the pieces together, I believe you left me, alone, at some shitty dive that you specifically begged to go to. And maybe it hasn’t fucking occurred to you yet, but I was actually planning to ask what you thought that night, whether or not I should take the opportunity. Because I love my boyfriend, but you’re right, he’s not my best friend of a fucking decade. You are.”

Fuck. The weight of his words hits you like a truck. You drain the rest of your wine as he continues, relentless.

“And yet that was the night my best friend of a decade decided to ditch me to go hook up with a man she has consistently called an asshole since day one, and it made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I deserved a little bit more in life. So I went home and told Wonho I wanted to take the job, and he supported me wholeheartedly. Even cooked me dinner to fucking celebrate. And now here we are.”

Jimin spreads his hands in front of him, palms up, as if to set the stage. “You are somehow shocked that the asshole you got yourself involved with turned around and acted… like an asshole. And I am off to go live the dreams that I have worked so hard for so long to finally achieve. Because as it turns out, we are a product of our own fucking choices. So tell me this, bestie: when are you going to take some fucking responsibility for yours?”

It’s only as you move to set your empty glass down that you realize your hands are shaking. It takes a concentrated effort to complete the motion, especially considering the way your eyes have started to blur with tears. You can feel deep, overwhelming shame stretching up from the pit of your stomach, like a black hole that threatens to suck you in entirely.

The sudden warmth of Jimin’s touch makes you flinch, and then you realize his hands are closing over yours, squeezing tight.

“Look at me,” he says hoarsely, and tears spill down your face as you do. You don’t know if you can take any more of his brutal honesty, but you figure you deserve it, so you brace yourself.

“I fucking love you,” Jimin says. The words are so unexpected and voiced in a tone so fierce that a sob wracks your chest before you can hold it back. He squeezes your hands tighter, and you try to return it. “You’re not just my best friend, you know that, right? You are my family. That will never, ever change. You could fucking kill someone, and I’d show up with bleach, two shovels, and a plan, okay?”

You laugh a little despite yourself, and you can feel Jimin’s thumbs brush gently over the backs of your hands. His voice is softer when he speaks again.

“I know shit has been really, really hard for you. For the last few years, and especially lately. But if I’m honest, it’s like you move through the world as if everything is just… happening to you, through no fault of your own. It makes it so fucking hard to root for you sometimes.”

You do your best to breathe through the sting of his words, and you nod, because you know he’s right.

“And that’s all I want to do,” Jimin stresses with another squeeze of your hands in his. “I want to be your personal fucking cheerleader, always, and not just because my ass would look great in the skirt. I know you are more than capable of getting your shit together, but it’s not going to happen if you don’t start taking some accountability for your own actions. And to be crystal clear, I am not a bad person for not wanting to sideline my own life while I wait for you to figure yours out.”

“You’re not,” you agree with a sniff and a small smile. “And I’m sorry for trying to make it about me.” You shake your head as you blink back a few more tears. “You deserve everything, Mochi, seriously. I don’t think there’s another person on the planet who would’ve put up with my shit for as long as you have.”

He rolls his eyes, despite the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth to match yours. “You make it sound like fucking charity work, come on. Have some self-respect! I don’t waste time on people who aren’t worth it.”

“I just thought you kept me around because I was the only person who could keep up with your drinking,” you admit, chasing the words with a giggle, and Jimin makes a face like you’re not wrong.

As if in response, he finally releases your hands, grabbing the wine bottle to top up your glasses.

“I really do wish I had better advice for you and your situation,” Jimin concludes on a heavy sigh as you both pick up your drinks. “But my already limited knowledge on Min Yoongi is also like fifteen years out of date, so all I can say is this: You got yourself into this mess, and I have full confidence that you can get yourself out. Even if it means cornering him and forcing him into a vulnerable conversation. It sounds like it will be great practice for both of you.”

You huff against the rim of your glass. “I have to figure out what the fuck to even say.”

“You will,” Jimin murmurs, his free hand alighting over yours for a final squeeze. “Just start with the truth.”

When your eyes find his again, you can feel your lower lip beginning to tremble. “God, I’m gonna miss you so fucking much.”

Clearly done with the dramatics, Jimin rolls his eyes. “I’m not dying, bitch! If anything it just means I’m going to text and call and FaceTime you more than I already do. Prepare to be sick of me.”

“I could never,” you tease, and he grabs a spoon off the coffee table, gently nudging it against your side.

“Come on, eat your sad girl ice cream before it melts.”

~*~

Even with Yoongi still in Tokyo, the thought of going back to the office and feigning normalcy feels impossible. You end up texting your boss to take a sick day, blaming it on the travel, and he responds quickly, telling you to rest up well and come in the day after.

But between the emotional overwhelm and the jet lag, sleep is hard to come by. You toss and turn, unable to doze off for more than a few minutes at a time, until you kick the blankets off in the early hours of the morning, sick of staring at the walls.

Your body moves as if on autopilot, and you pull your winter coat out of the closet to zip up over your sweats. You grab your phone and your house keys, then slip your feet into a pair of boots by the front door and step outside.

It’s cold, with the barest amount of dawn sun starting to bleed light and color across the horizon, but the fresh air feels good, like it’s easier to breathe in.

Hands shoved in your pockets, you make your way down the stairs to the entrance of your complex and begin to walk, aimless. You’re too fixated on everything whirling around in your mind to pay attention to where you’re headed, and it isn’t until you hear barking that you realize you’ve wandered your way to a neighborhood park down the street from your place, with a fenced-in area for owners to let their dogs run off leash.

It’s a nice place, even now in the dead of winter. You can’t help but wonder why you don’t come here more.

A voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink slowly, your sleep-deprived brain taking several seconds to piece together why it sounds so familiar.

“Bam, Bam! Come here!”

A laugh of disbelief bubbles up in your chest as you take in the scene in front of you: it’s none other than your baby-faced coworker Jeon Jungkook, giggling high and sweet as a large brown Doberman jumps up on its hind legs to playfully tackle him. You recognize the dog as one he’s shown you pictures of, along with the two Italian greyhounds sprinting the length of the fenced-in area, clearly just as energetic as their owner, even at this ungodly hour.

You lean against the fence to watch them, and your heart sinks a little when the memory of your last conversation with Jungkook comes back. It occurs to you that this is probably what Jimin was talking about when he told you to start taking some accountability. But fuck, it’s certainly easier said than done.

You can see your breath in the cold air as you inhale deep and let it out again. Maybe you should just leave him alone, you determine. Turn around and walk home before he sees you.

But then, like the very thought is enough to trigger his awareness, Jungkook’s gaze flits up to meet yours. You wish his Baby Star Candy eyes weren’t so damn expressive— even several yards away, you can see a dozen different emotions flash over his face in the span of a few seconds.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you wave a hand in what you hope reads as a peaceful greeting. You’re surprised to see him begin to jog towards you, but even more surprised when someone else beats him to it.

“Can I help you?”

The person standing in front of you looks to be about Jungkook’s age, but immediately hits you with an aura so intimidating that you take a cautious step backwards. He has a black beanie pulled low over his dark hair, and his hands are shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie.

“Oh, sorry, I just, uh— Jungkook is… my coworker,” you offer dumbly, gesturing in Jungkook’s direction. Clearly thinking that they’re still playing, Bam keeps crossing in front of his owner, nearly tripping him up, and you can’t help smiling, watching him stop every few paces to redirect the dog.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” the guy in the hoodie retorts, and your gaze snaps back to him. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?”

The question makes your jaw drop. “What?”

“I mean, seriously, what’s your plan here? Gonna lead him on some more and then tell him he’s not your boyfriend again?”

Your eyes threaten to pop out of your head just as Jungkook makes it over to the fence, Bam still nipping at his heels.

“Chan,” he quickly interjects, breathless. “It’s cool. Let me talk to her, okay?”

Chan eyes you up and down, disapproving, then takes a few steps back, his mouth pulled into an obvious scowl. “Yeah, alright. I’ll get the dogs.” You watch as he manages to divert Bam’s attention away with a well-timed ball throw.

Your mind still reeling from the interaction, you try to keep it together as Jungkook laughs, clearly slightly embarrassed. There’s an ache in your chest when you finally bring yourself to look him in the face.

“Sorry if he said anything to you,” he offers, looking back towards Chan, who is now entertaining all three of Jungkook’s dogs, plus a spaniel that must be his own. “Chan is a really good friend of mine, and he can be… protective.”

You huff a soft noise that comes out in a little cloud of steam. “It’s alright. I deserve it, honestly.”

“You don’t,” Jungkook says firmly, and you open your mouth to argue, but he speaks first. “Do you have a second? To talk?”

Uneasiness twists in the pit of your stomach. “I can talk,” you say, tentative. “But don’t let me interrupt. I think your friend already hates me enough.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s cool. Chan and I always take the dogs for a run in the mornings. We’re just trying to get all their energy out, but we’re about to head back after this.” A smile spreads across your face before you can bite it back, and he quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re telling me you go on a run every morning before your six AM boxing class?”

A pink flush blooms in his cheeks that you can’t quite believe is from the cold. “Well, I guess I also have a lot of energy.”

“You’re superhuman,” you laugh, and Jungkook glances down as he smiles, like he’s suddenly gone shy. It’s enough to crack your heart right down the middle, and you can’t keep the words in any longer. “Jungkook, I am so fucking sorry. For what happened before.”

The smile drops off his face as he looks up again. “Don’t be. I was way out of line.”

You tear your gaze away from Jungkook, choosing instead to stare at the thin layer of frost beneath your boots as it all plays back in your head. As much as you wish you could just patch everything up and be friends again, you can’t ignore the truth of his feelings for you, and the way it complicates everything else.

But you can certainly relate to wanting to live in denial. To avoid an inconvenient truth.

“You were just trying to keep me from getting hurt,” you murmur. You wonder if he can tell that he was right, that it happened anyway.

“Yeah,” Jungkook admits, and you glance up to see him pause, considering. “But, you know,” he adds. “My own stuff was mixed in there too.”

“Yeah,” you echo, unsure of what else to say.

“I should’ve listened to you,” he continues with a sigh. “I should’ve been more honest. About how I was feeling. Am feeling. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” You do your best to shoot him a sympathetic look. “Trust me, I really do get it. And I shouldn’t have been so harsh. I was just– I’m in a really weird place right now. But it’s not an excuse.”

Jungkook nods slowly. “I appreciate that. It definitely… snapped me out of it.”

You can’t help grimacing. “I was a bitch, you can say it.”

“No, no!” he exclaims, but his mouth is already pulling into a smile. “I needed to hear it. Seriously.”

There’s a moment where neither of you speak, and you both gaze across the park, watching Chan as he does his best to tire the dogs out.

“Your sons are even cuter in person,” you finally say, and you hear Jungkook exhale a soft laugh.

“You can meet them if you want,” he offers.

You scrunch your nose up slightly as you turn back to him. “If your bodyguard will let me?”

He shrugs. “Nah, Chan’s fine.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, and he waves one hand dismissively, the other already working to fumble open the lock of the fence gate. “All bark and no bite.”

Your eyes roll back at the terrible joke, but you can’t help laughing, too. You really fucking missed this kid.

~*~

Not wanting to worsen your jet lag further, you force yourself to stay awake once you make it back to your apartment, determined to take the day to properly unpack from Los Angeles. The routine of putting your things away and dumping your clothes into the washer is enough to keep your hands busy, and your mind takes the opportunity to retrace back over everything that’s happened in the last few days. It’s all come at you so fast, you feel like you’ve barely had a second to breathe, let alone process everything.

Things with Jungkook feel okay again, but your heart weighs heavy with the understanding that your friendship won’t ever go back to the way it was before, not entirely. That dose of reality stings a little, but you know it’s for the best, for both of you.

The loss just makes you miss Jimin that much more, but you know he’s currently on a plane to Bangkok to go live his dreams: he’d texted you a picture of his airport fashion while you were at the park, and you’d sent back a father/son candid of Jungkook playing with Bam. You don’t think Jimin’s bark bark bark response had anything to do with the dog.

You’re grateful for the conversation you had with your best friend before he left, even though it was hard to hear. The thought of sorting this mess out on your own still fills you with dread, but you tell yourself that if Jimin believes you can do it, then maybe he’s right. He’s certainly been right about everything else.

And that thought just brings you right back to Yoongi. A heavy sigh washes over you when you carefully unpack the rented Grammys dress from your suitcase, and the memories of the weekend flood your mind in waves as you brush your hand down the velvet fabric.

For a split second you swore the two of you had figured it out, that there wasn’t just sex and hatred between you, but something more. But as soon as the idea had come into focus, that one sweet night where it all felt possible, you’d watched it slip right out of your fingers again, with Yoongi acting cold enough to make you question if maybe you’d made the whole thing up after all.

You can’t help wondering how the morning could’ve gone in another universe: one where he’d stayed a little longer, one where you’d been a little braver. If you could’ve maybe met in the middle, somehow.

He told you he loved you. The words repeat in your head, again and again, as you stare down at your borrowed dress. Drunk as you might have been, you know you didn’t imagine that part. You just wish you knew what you were supposed to do now.

With a thoughtful hum, you reach for the garment bag slung over your closet door, unzipping it so you can hang the dress back up inside. You guess this is what Jimin was talking about. A vulnerable conversation. At this point, it feels like the only thing you haven’t tried with Min Yoongi.

“No time like the present,” you murmur to yourself as you tug the zipper up.

~*~

Going back to the office the next day feels like jumping straight into the deep end. There’s plenty to get caught up on from the aftermath of the Grammys and the work days you missed while traveling. It takes you most of the day just to get through your inbox in the brief moments of downtime not spent running between conference rooms.

Your one beacon of hope is the reassurance that Yoongi is scheduled to be in Tokyo for the rest of the week. It gives you time to calm down, to focus on work undisturbed without anticipating him around every corner. You’ve got the weekend to plan out what you want to say, to prepare yourself to push past the fear and actually say it, all of it, out in the open.

The very thought makes your chest constrict, but you try to breathe through it. You’ve got time to figure it out, you tell yourself.

And then you glance up to see Min Yoongi pushing the glass office doors open, and you swear your heart stops beating.

“Yoongi.”

His name leaves your lips automatically while you attempt to try and process this as really happening. Your voice comes out soft, as if in fear that speaking too loud will make it all dissolve in front of you, or make him turn around and walk right back out again.

He doesn’t respond; his stride doesn’t even falter as he walks past your desk and rounds the corner, heading for his own office. Acting on sheer impulse, you get to your feet to follow after, catching up to him as he’s keying the code into his door lock.

“What are you doing back?” is all you can think to say. You can’t read any emotion on his face, save maybe exhaustion.

“The sessions went well,” he answers, not sounding particularly glad for it. “We finished ahead of schedule.”

“Oh,” you answer dumbly, and he pushes down the handle and steps into his lab. You catch the door before it swings shut again, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you step inside. “Can we talk?”

With a grunt, Yoongi drops into his desk chair, tapping at his keyboard to wake his computer and log in. “Sure. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

His response surprises you enough that all you can manage is another, “Oh.” You cautiously close the distance between you until you’re standing beside his desk, your gaze sweeping over his unblinking profile. It strikes you that you haven’t actually planned out what you want to say to him. You thought you had more time.

“Uh, I guess you can go first, then.”

Yoongi’s eyes don’t move from his screen. “I think you were right. This was a bad idea.”

“I— what?” It takes you several seconds to piece together what he means. The night at the company happy hour, when he’d proposed that the two of you establish some kind of arrangement, you had said it was a bad idea. And then you’d followed him into the bathroom to say yes to it anyway.

But now he’s… changing his mind? Just like that?

“I think we should both just focus on work,” he says, as if it’s that easy. “And stop being so distracted.”

Distracted? Your gut twists. It’s suddenly hard to inhale, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. “So what, then?” you ask, hating that you can’t quite keep the emotion out of your voice. “It’s over? All of it?”

Yoongi’s gaze alights on you for a split second, then flits back to his screen. The realization makes you want to scream: he can’t even fucking look at you. His adam’s apple jumps in his throat as he swallows.

“Look,” he finally sighs. “Whatever it is you think I can give you, I promise you, I can’t.”

A flush of heat creeps up your neck. “What I think?!” you retort, still in disbelief. “You started this, Yoongi, all of this was your idea. And you’re the one who fucking said you l—” He winces as you cut yourself off, your throat constricting too tight to get the words out.

“I was drunk,” he murmurs, unconvincing.

You stare at him for a moment, stunned.

“You know what I think you were?” His gaze finds yours, and you spit the word at him. “Honest.” There’s a flicker of recognition in his face, and it spurs you on. “I think you told the truth for once in your life, without this weird ‘I don’t care about anything’ veneer, and it fucking terrified you.”

Yoongi shakes his head. His voice is soft when he speaks again, and a little uneven. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you snap.

“Don’t act like you know me.”

You scoff, too angry to stop yourself, unable to bite back the urge to press him until he says something real. “You think I don’t? Really? I guess you just tell everyone you fuck about the time you almost jumped off a bridge?”

He flinches as he glances up at you again, and your heart drops like a lead weight at the look on his face. You immediately clap a hand to your mouth, as if in a too-late attempt to shove the words back in.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you breathe. “I-I didn’t mean that, I’m just—”

All at once, he’s on his feet, moving towards you until you have no choice but to start walking backwards, in the direction of his office door.

“Here’s what I know.” Yoongi’s voice is firm and oddly calm as he speaks over your fumbled apologies. “I’m an asshole. I’m a workaholic. I’m way too hard on myself. I push people too far, and then I shut them all out. I’m never satisfied. I get bored easily.” He pauses for a moment. “And yes, sometimes I get so fucking sick of myself that I want to jump off a bridge. To put it bluntly, I am not somebody you want to be with. At all.”

Your breath hitches as your back finds purchase against the door, and Yoongi stops, still several paces apart from you. His dark eyes feel like they’re burning into you, glassy with emotion in a way you’ve only seen once before.

“We hooked up a few times,” he says, as if there’s no room for debate. “That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s over now.”

As his words crash into you, it occurs to you what this feeling is, itching like fire under your skin and squeezing tight at the muscles of your throat: you’re embarrassed.

It’s fucking embarrassing, standing here in an office you’ve been in dozens of times before, trying to beg a man you’re supposed to hate into a single honest conversation, into loving you when he already fucking said he did. Yoongi said he’s in love with you, and now he’s just… standing here, blinking at you like you’re somehow the unreasonable one for thinking that it meant anything at all.

“I guess you’re right,” you barely manage to choke out as your hand brushes over the door handle behind you. Your skin is flushed so hot that it feels cool against your palm. “You are a fucking asshole.”

You don’t wait around to see the look on his face at your remark. You just push the handle down and stumble out into the hallway.

When the Genius Lab door closes behind you, you slam back against it with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. You press your palms to the wood grain and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down, but that choked up feeling refuses to dissipate. The world feels like it’s closing in around you, white noise roaring so loudly in your ears you can scarcely think.

It takes you several seconds to realize that someone is speaking to you, and your eyes snap open again to find Jungkook standing in the hallway, his brow furrowed like he’s concerned. It’s hard to focus on him, like you can’t quite open your eyes wide enough. Black spots have started to dance in your vision, and you blink a few times, hoping to clear them out.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

You attempt to take in enough air to answer him, but all you can manage are shallow gasps: it’s like everything is stuck. You’re not even crying, you just can’t fucking breathe. The only response to his question that you can give is a slow shake of your head, and then your knees buckle.

Your brain must lose the ability to keep up with the pace of everything that’s happening, because suddenly you register that your palms are pressed flat to the office carpet. Jungkook is kneeling beside you, one hand smoothing circles against the back of your dress. You’re still heaving, trying to breathe, but your chest is squeezed so tight that it’s like it won’t take. You can feel your heartbeat behind your ribs, slamming so fast that it makes your whole body shake, and there’s a buzzing sensation in your fingertips, like TV static.

“Hey, hey.” You shut your eyes again and try to focus on Jungkook’s voice. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

“I—” you gasp, but the words are stuck, too. I can’t breathe. I don’t know what’s happening. I think I’m dying.

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and you nod, as if it might force your mind to believe his words. “You’re okay. Just— I’m gonna breathe with you, okay?” You immediately shake your head, and Jungkook shifts a little closer. “I know it feels like you can’t right now. But look. We’re gonna go slow. In for four.”

I can’t fucking do this, you want to scream, but you dig your numb fingers into the carpet and try to follow his lead. You can hear him take a deep inhale through his nose, and you do your best to match it. One, two, three, four.

Jungkook’s voice comes back, stilted this time. “Hold it for seven.”

You nod, trying to focus on the feeling of the floor beneath you, his hand against your back. Your chest is spasming with a desperate need to keep hyperventilating, but you force the little air you’ve taken in to stay in your lungs, and you count. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

“And out for eight.” You can hear Jungkook push a stream of air out of his mouth, and you echo it, though your own airflow feels pathetic in comparison. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

“Can we do that again?” he asks gently, and after a moment, you nod.

You go through the process again and again, and each time it gets a little easier, until you’re finally able to pull yourself up to sit back on your heels. Your head is spinning, your heart still hammering in your chest, but you try to focus on Jungkook, seated cross-legged next to you like he has all the time in the world.

“I think—” you start, and you have to take another breath in before you can get the rest of the words out. A dull ache is beginning to bloom in your temples. Your throat feels like sandpaper. But at least you can breathe. “I think I’m okay now.”

“There’s no rush. Just give it a second,” he says with a nod, and you do, flexing your hands in your lap to try and bring some feeling back.

“Where did you learn to do that?” you ask softly, and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a half-smile.

“My therapist taught me. I used to have really bad panic attacks. Still do, sometimes.”

You blink at him, trying to process the information. It never occurred to you that Baby Star Candy would be the kind of person to have a therapist, or any kind of mental health issues at all. Not when he seems so… well-adjusted.

“Do you need anything?” he offers. “Water?”

You shake your head, not quite ready to be left alone. “I just need this day to be over so I don’t have to fucking be here anymore,” you sigh.

Jungkook makes a face, as if in thought, then shrugs. “How about I drive you home?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “I— I’m the keyholder, JK. It’s literally my first day back, I can’t just leave.”

“Where’s the key?” he asks, pulling himself up to standing in one smooth motion. Your legs feel shaky beneath you, and you gladly accept the hand he extends for support as you slowly right yourself next to him.

“It’s, uh—” you have to think for a second before it comes back to you, your brain still a little scrambled. You’d taken it back from your cover earlier this morning, and now it’s… “In my purse. On my desk.”

With that, Jungkook heads down the hallway towards your desk, and you follow after, slightly unsteady in your high heels. He stands to the side when he gets there first, like he doesn’t want to just dig through your things, and you reach for your purse to fish the key out of the bottom.

“Can I borrow that?” Jungkook asks, extending his palm. You pause for a second, then nervously drop the key into his hand.

Before you can even ask any follow-up questions, he’s disappearing back down the hallway. Your gaze lingers over your desk as you let another cautious breath out, and it feels like you’re moving in slow motion when you grab your laptop and slide it into your purse.

It seems like less than a minute before Jungkook returns again, rapping his knuckles against your desk. “You’re off the hook for tonight.”

“Really?” you ask, incredulous. “What did you do?”

He just shrugs. “Talked to your boss. Told him you weren’t feeling well and wanted to leave early. He said he’d lock up. It’s not a big deal to ask for help sometimes, you know.”

You blink, attempting to keep up, your reaction time slowed enough that it’s like you’re on a five second delay. “Thanks, Jungkook. I guess your therapist taught you that too, huh?”

Jungkook nods without a trace of shame. “Sure did. Now let’s get out of here.”

Nothing about the world around you feels real as you follow Jungkook into the elevator and down to the parking garage. It’s like floating through some strange dream, everything fuzzy and far away. You slip wordlessly into his passenger seat, and it’s only as he pulls out onto the city streets that a creeping sense of dread starts to dot up your spine.

This scene is too familiar, and that thought alone makes your mouth go dry. When you try to swallow, you can feel your throat threatening to constrict again.

“Jungkook,” you manage to choke out, and his eyes flit from the road to your face and back again.

“Everything okay?”

The silence in the car is suddenly deafening. “Can we, uh— put on some music? Just, anything?”

Jungkook looks a little cautious, like he doesn’t want to do too much too fast. “Are you sure?”

You nod, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to remember his stupid breathing pattern. “Please. I… need a distraction.”

“Okay. Sure,” he answers quickly, and you let out a ragged sigh of relief when he leans over to press a button and the car fills with upbeat pop. It takes you a second to place it, and then you blink your eyes open again as a laugh of surprise rips through you.

“Hype Boy, really?”

“What? This is a great song!” Jungkook’s already tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel in time to the beat. “I just learned the dance, too.”

You tip your head back against the seat with another soft giggle. “Sounds like somebody’s about to go viral on TikTok again.”

The two of you settle into silence, and you let yourself be distracted by the music, your brain still cotton-fuzz numb. You’re grateful that Jungkook doesn’t force conversation or babble on the way he normally does, instead choosing to hum along in a way that’s oddly comforting. You count your breaths and watch the city pass by in a blur, until all at once the car is coming to a stop at your apartment complex. The building seems to loom over you as you blink up through the windshield, one hand fumbling for the car door.

Up those stairs is the safety of your apartment. But now that you’re here, it doesn’t feel so reassuring. It’s not like there’s anyone waiting for you on the other side of your front door. No best friend to come over. It occurs to you now that you’re not ready to be alone just yet, but that’s exactly what you’ll be the minute you step out of Jungkook’s car.

The words leave your mouth before you have time to reconsider. “JK, do you want to come up for a bit?”

“Oh.” Jungkook is wide-eyed and blinking when you glance at him, like he wasn’t expecting the invitation. “Uh, yeah. Okay. For a bit.”

It’s a little funny, stepping inside your front door with Jungkook following after, the two of you slipping your shoes off in the hallway, then padding further in. You never pictured this happening, not even when he came to pick you up for Jimin’s concert.

Jungkook cautiously perches on the edge of the couch, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself, while you continue into the kitchen, calling back over your shoulder. “Do you want something to drink? Water, tea?”

There’s a shuffling sound, like Jungkook is peeling out of his jacket. “Just, uh. Whatever you’re having, I guess.”

“Wine, then,” you answer.

You make short work of cracking open a bottle of red, then grab two glasses before returning to the living room and dropping down on the cushion next to Jungkook. His jacket is slung over the arm of the couch now, leaving him in his usual business casual uniform, a button-down and slacks.

“What a fucking day,” you sigh as you pour Jungkook a glass of wine, then one for yourself. “Thank you again, for… you know. Reminding me how to breathe.”

Jungkook still seems a little nervous as he reaches for his drink. “Yeah, of course.” There’s a moment of silence as you both take a sip, and then he speaks first. “Can I ask—“ he interrupts himself, as if making a correction. “I mean, I don’t want to pry. I know it’s not my business. At all.”

“You want to know why I had a panic attack in the middle of the office?” you offer, and he nods.

“Outside of Yoongi’s lab,” Jungkook finishes quietly, and your heart briefly stalls out at the mere mention of his name.

“It’s a good question,” you murmur as you stare at the liquid swirling in your glass. Jimin’s words suddenly come back to you in a whole new light. Start with the truth.

You glance up at Jungkook again. “Yoongi and I were…” You trail off, unsure what to even call it. Involved? Hooking up? Enemies with benefits? Nothing feels right. “We were something.”

“But not anymore?” Jungkook’s response is immediate. You shake your head.

“No, I guess not.” There’s a dull ache in your chest, like pressing on a fresh bruise, and you try to breathe through it, your gaze flitting down to the hem of your dress. “When we were in LA, he said he loved me. And now he says it didn’t mean anything. That it’s over.”

“Wow,” Jungkook huffs, sounding dazed and a little pissed off. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” you sigh as you sink back against the couch cushion. “Me too.”

It all feels more real, now that you’ve said it out loud. Hurts just as fucking bad. Maybe worse. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I should’ve just told you, but. I don’t know. I think I wanted to believe I had it all under control.” A sad laugh flutters out of your lungs. “Clearly, I do not.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, and he pauses for a moment, placing his wine glass on the coffee table before he continues. “Were you— I mean, was it… the whole time?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you shrug. “Not the whole time, but. Most of it, I guess. It was like a weird slow burn thing.”

“Got it.”

When you glance over at Jungkook, there’s a distant look in his eyes, like he’s still processing everything. You suppose it’s probably a lot to hear all at once. It feels good to be honest with him after so much time spent keeping secrets. A heat starts to bloom in your face as you take another sip of wine, then set the glass down.

There must still be a lingering post-panic disconnect between your brain and your body, because all of a sudden you’re moving on sheer instinct, without giving it any thought at all. You drop back against the couch cushion again, then tilt yourself to the side until your head is pressed gently into Jungkook’s shoulder.

You wonder if you’re imagining the way he tenses slightly at the contact. You glance up at him through your lashes, but he’s not looking at you, and the expression on his face is hard to judge. There’s a faint scar on his cheek that you’ve never noticed before.

It could be so easy, you realize now. All he’d have to do is turn a little and close the distance. He could cup your jaw in his hand, tilt your chin up towards him, brush his lips against yours. Soft and sweet.

And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

“It should have been you, Baby Goth,” you hear yourself say.

Silence weighs heavy in the air between you, and then Jungkook speaks.

“That’s not fair.”

It’s like the words snap you out of a trance. You jump back like you’ve just been burned, purposefully sliding over to put as much distance as you can between your bodies on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” you say reflexively, but Jungkook is still staring at the floor. His leg has begun to bounce, like a nervous tick.

“I don’t—” Jungkook starts, and then he pauses, taking a deep breath in before he begins the sentence again. “I don’t want… this. Not if… if it’s not real. Or just a rebound, or whatever.”

Shame rushes up in your chest, makes you hot all over. You can’t exactly say that he’s wrong, but the thought of a brief distraction from the pain was so promising. Now it’s only served to dig you in that much deeper.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you repeat dumbly. You can feel your heartbeat hammering behind your ribs. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just… Fuck, I’m such a mess right now. I keep fucking everything up.”

His gaze finally drifts up to meet yours, and you’ve never seen him look more serious. “You know, Chan said something that stuck with me. When I told him about what happened. He said, ‘if she really wanted to be with you, she already would be.’”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you recoil at the impact. You try to blink away the impending tears as you slowly nod. “Chan’s right,” you whisper, and Jungkook’s mouth pulls into a sad, flat grimace.

“Yeah,” he answers, his voice gone raw. “I thought so too.”

All at once, he’s on his feet and tugging his jacket back on, and you can only sit motionless and watch him. You press a finger to your waterline, trying to catch the tears before they start to spill down your face.

“I’m sorry you had a hard day,” Jungkook says, reaching up to adjust his collar. “And I really do want to be your friend. But I think I just need a little time.” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, turning over his shoulder to look at you, then quickly averting his gaze again. “We both do.”

“Yeah,” you sniff. “I want to be friends too. But, yeah. You’re right.”

Jungkook keeps his head down as he heads for the entryway. He slips his feet into his shoes, then swings the door open, pausing in the threshold for a final glance back towards you.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs. You nod. And then the door clicks shut behind him.

~*~

Despite your best attempts and the rest of the bottle of wine, sleep doesn’t come. You stare up at the black of your bedroom ceiling, and it feels like staring at the rubble of every bridge you’ve burned. All from your own choices. The things you said that you shouldn’t have, the things you didn’t do that you should have. All your mess, and all your fault.

You keep your eyes open, because closing them is worse. Closing them is when it all comes back, a looping film strip in your head of everything that’s haunted you, played out in technicolor on the backs of your eyelids.

Extending a mug of coffee to Yoongi on your first day. Stealing food off Jimin’s plate at dinner. Splitting red bean buns with Jungkook.

And then it speeds up.

A locked office door, a stolen set of keys. A four digit code and a smirk. Your fingers gripping the edge of Yoongi’s desk. Dancing close with a dark-haired stranger in a packed club. Yoongi’s hands slipping up your thighs, closing over your throat. The flashing lights and noise of a concert. A full glass of whiskey. Standing outside of a bar in the cold night air. Rain on a windshield. A maple pastry and a paper coffee cup. Seoul lit up at night, cut through by the river. A hotel bed. Yoongi’s hands on the zipper of your dress. Yoongi’s hands on piano keys. Yoongi’s mouth on yours in a conference room, in his shower, in a K-town noraebang. His face pressed into your shoulder on the cab ride home.

And you see yourself, too. Running away. Saying the wrong thing. Fucking everything up, irreparably. Over and over, the movie replays.

Tears slip across the bridge of your nose as you turn onto your side, cheek pressed to the pillow, and wait for morning.

~*~

“There she is!”

Your boss’ greeting rings loud in your ears, and you wince as you duck your head through his office door. He gestures for you to have a seat in the chair across from his desk, and you comply. You can see him taking you in as you sit down, and when his smile falters slightly, you know why: there weren’t enough ice rollers in the world to completely de-puff your face after a sleepless night spent crying yourself dry.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, a little more gently.

You fold your hands in your lap and take a deep breath, willing the words not to get stuck in your throat. You can feel the tension in the room, your knife’s edge poised at the final cord to cut.

“I want you to know that I’ve really enjoyed my time working here,” you begin, doing your best to keep your voice even, squeezing your laced fingers tight to give your mind something to focus on. “But for personal reasons, I think I need to tender my resignation.”

Your boss sits back in his chair, clearly stunned. It takes him a second to recover. “I— wow. Can’t say I saw this coming.” He leans forward again. “It wasn’t something that happened here, was it? Because if we need to report an issue to HR, you should know I take that kind of thing very seriously. I’d hate to see you leave over something we could take care of.”

Another breath in, another squeeze of your hands in your lap. “No, it wasn’t,” you say firmly. “It’s just me. My own stuff. I think… I think maybe I need to leave Seoul for a bit.”

He pauses, considering your words, and you consider them, too. It isn’t a thought you were ever cognizant of having until this moment, but it doesn’t feel like a lie, either. It makes sense. You’ve snapped every tie that once might have kept you tethered to this city. There doesn’t feel like much point in staying, or like there’s anything still here for you.

“Well, good for you,” your boss finally says, his tone serious. “For knowing your own limits. Gotta be a human first, right?” You offer him a half-smile and a nod, and he leans forward to grab a pen off his desk, fiddling absentmindedly with it. “Thinking of going anywhere in particular?”

You shake your head, your smile turning self-conscious. “Hadn’t gotten that far.”

“If I’m overstepping, just tell me to shut up,” he starts, and you can’t help breathing out a laugh. “But you got some rave reviews from the Los Angeles team. Seriously, you blew them away. They asked if it was possible to clone you. Apparently they’ve been looking for an admin for a while, but can’t seem to find anyone who can walk the walk.”

Your eyes go wide as you begin to put the pieces together, and your boss just keeps going.

“I mean, it’s probably a bigger move than what you were looking for. Unless you’re really trying to get away. But you’re such a great asset, I’d love to keep you in the family, if we can.”

He looks at you pointedly, and you swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. “You… can do that?”

Your boss shrugs. “We’d have to get you a visa, but that’s easy enough with a specialty occupation lined up. And we can cover the fees for premium processing so it doesn’t take half a year. But only if it’s something you’re genuinely interested in. If you’re just trying to cut and run, I get it. No hard feelings.”

Your head goes spinning. Los Angeles. It’s about as far away from your mess of a life as you could possibly get. It feels too good to be true, and you drop your gaze to the floor as a tidal wave of guilt surges over you.

You hadn’t planned on this admission, but all at once, the words are coming out of your mouth.

“I lied,” you say, your voice soft, your eyes fixed firmly on the carpet. There’s no way you can look your boss in the face as the truth spills out of you. “On my job application. I don’t have any experience as an administrative assistant. I made it all up, and my reference was fake. I was actually a waitress before this.”

You finally manage a glance up. Your boss’ eyebrows are nearly at his hairline, but he’s quiet.

“It just… doesn’t seem fair to send me off to the Los Angeles team. Not when I don’t even know what I’m doing,” you conclude with an embarrassed grimace.

“You really feel like you don’t?”

His question makes you blink. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. You’re not sure how to respond.

He drops the pen in his hands to press his palms flat to the surface of his desk, as if he means business. “Look, obviously I can’t condone what you did. But I’ll be honest, if anything, that just makes me all the more impressed with your performance. I thought you adjusted quickly even for someone with past experience. To know you were flying blind…” He huffs a laugh of disbelief. “I mean, that’s a fucking crazy thing to do. But you did do it. I’ve seen you working your ass off to keep this office together. And that’s the thing: you have. You’ve met every deadline, kept up with every deliverable. You’ve taken everything we’ve thrown at you and handled it.”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, willing it to stop trembling. Fuck, you’d really thought you were done crying.

Your boss shakes his head as he continues. “Maybe if you’d just started, I’d feel differently about this. But I gotta be honest. When I look at your performance the past few months… I don’t give a fuck what your last job was. Because in this job, you’re killing it. And I know you’d do the same in Los Angeles, if you made the decision to go. They want you out there because they’ve already seen what you can do. They know it, and I know it. And I hope that some part of you knows it, too.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek, and you quickly reach up to swipe it away. “Thank you,” you choke out, your voice thick as you try to keep it together. “I seriously can’t tell you how much it means to hear that right now.”

He doesn’t respond right away, like he’s waiting for you to say more, and you take a shaky breath in as the decision solidifies in your head. “I really enjoyed my time with the Los Angeles team. And I would love to transfer there, if they’ll have me.”

Your boss’ mouth pulls into a smug smirk. “Please,” he says dryly. “As soon as they get wind of this, they’re going to beg me to ship you overnight.” You laugh as you dab at your eyes with the edge of your sleeve, and his face softens slightly. “I can’t do overnight. But do you think you can hang on for just a couple more weeks?”

You chase your nod with a gentle sniff. “Yeah. I think I can do that.”

~*~

Time passes quicker than you would’ve expected, split mostly between preparing for your transfer at work and trying to pack your life up into cardboard boxes at home. Apart from those two things, the days feel aimless, and a little unreal. It’s like you’re living in a liminal space, halfway between your old life and the promise of a new one. Your boss offers to hang onto the office key of his own accord, to give you more time to get your things in order, and you gratefully accept the help.

It’s a weird change, no longer having to worry about being the first one at the office and the last one out. No meeting Jungkook at the doors each morning. No fighting with Yoongi to get him to leave at the end of the day. You see relatively little of either of them, save for the occasional meeting or brush of shoulders in the hallway. You’d think losing both of them in one go might be unbearable if you didn’t already have your eyes on the horizon.

Your boss announces your upcoming transfer in the next team meeting, though Yoongi is naturally nowhere to be found. Jungkook’s eyes go as wide as you’ve ever seen them at the news, but he still slips out of the conference room immediately after the meeting wraps, rather than hanging back to talk to you.

You try not to take it personally; you can’t exactly blame him.

Life goes on. Your boss swings by your desk to excitedly share the news that your visa was approved, and you set a final transition date. You sort out the travel, the logistics of shipping your stuff, and lock down a place to sublet in Los Angeles to get you started. It’s admittedly shocking how easy it is to take your old life apart, piece by piece. To draft your escape plan, to run away from it all one final time. To make a clean break.

It’s nearly the end of your last workday in Seoul before you’re able to put a name to the feeling that’s begun to blossom in the pit of your stomach: it’s hope.

“Hey.” Your boss’ voice cuts through your concentration, and you glance up from your laptop to see him leaned up against your desk. “Can you walk to the break room with me for a second? Got a few last-minute questions for you.”

Your eyes go wide, your mind instantly racing, trying to think of what it is you might have forgotten.

“You’re not in trouble,” he says with a laugh, and you nod as you get to your feet, not quite able to believe it. “Just, uh, follow me and put on a happy face. Alright?”

You have no idea what he could possibly mean until you round the corner and a cheer rises up. The rest of your coworkers are standing around the break room in groups, like they’ve been waiting for you, though that doesn’t seem to have stopped them from already partaking in the assortment of food and drinks that’s been set up beside the vending machines. There’s a farewell banner pinned to the wall, signed with well-wishes from what looks to be everyone at the Seoul office, and someone’s turned on a playlist that you realize upon closer listen exclusively features songs about California.

There’s even a cake.

For a moment, you can’t do anything except stand there in the threshold, dumbfounded, as your coworkers clap and laugh.

“I— wow,” is all you can think to say, and you shoot your boss an incredulous look. “Thank you.”

He makes a face. “Hey, I didn’t do this. Thank JK.” Your boss nods across the room. “That kid loves any excuse to throw a party.”

Your heart immediately sinks at the mention, at all this kindness shown to you by the person you’ve arguably treated the worst.

It takes a while to get to him, with nearly every person wanting to stop you for a chat, but you finally manage to make your way over to where Jungkook is loading up a paper plate with so much food that it’s threatening to cave in.

“Make sure you get something to eat before it’s all gone,” he says by way of greeting, gesturing to the catering dishes with an elbow so he can keep both hands on his plate. “It’s really good.”

“Jungkook,” you say softly, and his gaze alights on you for a second before returning back to his food. You don’t think you’re imagining that he looks somewhat nervous. “I really can’t thank you enough. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He shrugs, taking a few steps over to a nearby table, and you cautiously trail after him. “I didn’t,” he admits as he sets his plate down, then scoots a chair out. “But you deserve a good send-off. It takes a lot of guts to do what you’re doing.”

You shift nervously where you stand. “It’s either that or cowardice. I’ll let you know when I figure out which.”

A small smile tugs at his lips as he digs into his food, and you suddenly feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. But then he glances up again, speaking through a mouthful. “Well, whatever it is. I hope it works out for you.”

“Thanks, JK.” You do your best to return his smile. “I hope so, too.”

By the time you grab your own plate, you’ve been swept into another group to answer an endless litany of questions about your move. You tell yourself it’s probably for the best to leave Jungkook alone anyway, so you try to stand there and smile, to assure your nosier coworkers that nothing happened; you just needed a change of scenery.

Eventually the conversation shifts, and you find yourself on the outskirts of it, more than a little relieved to no longer be in the hot seat. You sip politely at your drink and nod along, not really paying attention to whatever’s being said, until a tap on your shoulder makes you start, and you turn around.

You nearly drop your cup when you find Min Yoongi staring back at you.

Your eyes had scanned the crowd for his face when you got here, like they do in every room you walk into, but he wasn’t here. He wasn’t, you’re sure of it, and you honestly hadn’t expected him to show at all. Why would he?

But now here he is, standing in front of you, his dark eyes searching yours. And you have no idea what to say to him.

You might be face-to-face in a crowded break room, but he still feels unreachable, like he’s a thousand miles away from you. It occurs to you that after today he’ll be much, much further.

Your lips part, but you can’t get the words out. You don’t even know where to begin. But then he speaks first.

“I just want you to be happy,” he murmurs, and as he says it, his hand brushes yours for less than a second. It’s a touch so brief, so imperceptible, that anyone else would think it was an accident. But you know better.

Yoongi pauses, as if to take one final look at you, and then he slips between two groups of your chatting coworkers, and you lose sight of him again. As if he was never there at all. It’s like you can feel your heart drop to your feet and shatter against the linoleum floor.

It hurts just as much as it did before— watching him walk away, not having the guts to stop him. Even if you did, you know you’d find a way to fuck it up, the way you always do. So you say nothing. Do nothing. The party turns to white noise in your ears as you stare down at the liquid in your cheap plastic cup. And then it hits you all at once: you need to get out of here.

You’re able to slip out of the break room unnoticed, dropping your drink in a trashcan on the way out. You move down the hallway on unsteady legs, and you don’t stop until your hands are pressed flat to the bathroom door to push it open. Shouldering into a stall, you can barely fumble the lock closed behind you before the tears start to spill over.

You don’t try to hold them in. You just slump against the door and let it all pour out of you. You cry until your throat goes thick, until a muted thud blooms at the back of your skull, until you find yourself distantly wondering if you’ll ever stop crying. You’re so fucking sick of crying.

Occasional groups of coworkers drift into the bathroom, and you stifle your sounds each time to avoid detection, your cheek pressed to the stall door as you wait to hear them trickle out again. The interruptions get further and further apart until there’s a long stretch of silence, and your hands shake slightly as you slip the lock open to make your way out to the sink.

The face looking back at you in the mirror is not a pretty sight, all puffy and tear-stained, your makeup a disaster. You reach for a paper towel to try and clean yourself up, and then the bathroom door creaks open a few inches, just enough for Jungkook to stick his head through the gap.

You can’t help smiling a little at his unexpected presence, though it’s more of a grimace, considering you know full well how awful you look right now. “Hey, JK.”

He blinks, eyes widening as he takes in your current state. “I know I’m not supposed to be in here, but… are you okay?”

The laugh you manage is all self-pity. “Kind of a loaded question.”

Jungkook nudges the door open with his foot, and you realize his hands are preoccupied with two paper plates. “Everyone’s gone; I was just cleaning up,” he explains. “I brought cake.”

“Thanks,” you say softly, watching his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he steps inside.

After a moment of internal debate, you turn to press your back to the sink, flattening your palms against the counter and hopping up to sit on it. Jungkook sets the plates between you before following suit, his long legs dangling over the edge of the marble surface. He reaches into his shirt pocket to retrieve two plastic forks, performing the motion with just enough flourish to make you really laugh as he hands you one with a shy smile.

The two of you take your first bites in silence, save for your own sniffling.

“This cake is really good,” you murmur as you chew.

A longer pause settles between you, and you find yourself relieved for the quiet. You figure Jungkook doesn’t need to ask the obvious question, that he’s perfectly capable of putting the pieces together as to what might’ve led you to lock yourself in the bathroom and cry all your makeup off. And any words of comfort he could’ve once offered would only make you feel like even more of a monster right now.

Jungkook has already finished his slice of cake by the time he speaks again. “Did you… hate the party?”

“No, JK,” you respond immediately, the corner of your mouth pulling up in a sad half-smile. “It was wonderful.” Guilt gnaws at the edges of your conscience, and you can’t help but question what you ever did to be worthy of this friendship. Of Jungkook’s kindness, given freely, even when you didn’t deserve it. “Seriously, thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers. You look down just in time to see him extend a leg so he can gently tap his foot against yours. His voice is quieter when it comes back. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” you echo, glancing up at him as you return his foot tap with one of your own. “But you’ll be alright.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifts down to the floor, and he nods as you take another bite of cake, his jaw set firm. “Yeah. I will be.”

~*~

As you pack up the last of your things, there’s a lingering feeling in your gut that you can’t quite manage to shake, and you’re not sure why. Maybe Jimin got in your head with all the TV show drama talk. Or maybe it’s your stupid heart, foolishly holding out hope that things could still change, even at the eleventh hour. That it all can’t just… end like this.

But none of the scenarios you’ve dreamed up come true. Yoongi isn’t standing at your apartment door when you swing it open with your suitcase in hand. He doesn’t step out of the cab that pulls up to your complex to take you to the airport. He doesn’t run through the terminal to catch you right before you make it to security.

Yoongi doesn’t stop you. So you go.

chapter nine | masterlist

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

1K notes · View notes

jjunieworld · 29 days

Text

── cat-dog! ‧⁺◟🐈 `╌ ៹

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to ???, dog walker!reader, slice of life, college au (though not in college), jungwon has a cat

synopsis: you’re a broke college student taking up dog walking to mainly to scrounge up some extra cash. out on one of your walks, a guy runs up to you and asks if you happen to also walk cats. of course you say yes, you need the money, but you didn’t except to end up losing his said cat.

word count: 0.8k┊masterlist

author's note: i mainly wrote this so i could get my motivation back with writing lmao… this writer’s block is really killing me. i don’t know what to do about it :(( and yes, i did add some of the other member’s dogs in here lmaoo but i hope you all enjoy!! ♡

being a dog walker for mainly rich and snobby upper class people wasn’t how you expected to spend your free time, but it paid well. and you desperately needed the money. being a college student didn’t pay well—it didn’t pay at all actually.

you were in the middle of wrangling the group of dogs currently dragging you down the street when one of them suddenly jerked, making you accidentally drop it’s leash. “layla, come back!” you shouted in distress. the fluffy dog took off running towards an unfamiliar guy at full speed.

jogging over to the guy just as layla jumped up on him, shocking the guy into laughter, you continued shouting for her. “i’m so sorry!” you stammered—a little out of breath. the guy gave you a big smile as he handed you the leash. “oh, it’s okay. don’t worry about it!” he said softly, bending down to pet the happy dog. the other dogs surrounding you sniffed at his legs and whacked you with their tails.

you apologized again before continuing on your walk down the street with the dogs. after taking a couple steps, you heard, “hey, wait!” turning in question, the guy ran up to you and made his wait through the crowd of dogs.

“do you by chance walk cats?” the guy asked.

“walk cats?” you asked in pure confusion. the guy nodded a little, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. “i know it’s a bit of an odd request, but i heard that taking cats on walks are good for them!” he ran a hand through this hair a bit nervously, which you found endearing. you shrugged a little, a small smile coming to your face. you do need the money.

“you know what? yeah. i do walk cats,” you replied. how hard could it be? it was just a cat. if anything, you’d probably be carrying it the entire time—which you didn’t really mind.

the two of you started talking about your rates and settled for you walking his cat this weekend. “i’m jungwon,” the guy said as he held his hand out to you. you took it, giving it a firm shake with a smile. “y/n,” you said back.

it turns out walking a cat was actually very hard. in fact, you were so bad at it that you debated on this whole dog walking thing to begin with.

the beginning of the walk actually wasn’t bad. jungwon’s cat, a brown cat named bear, was in the front leading the pack. he was closely followed by layla and gaeul. it wasn’t that big of a cat, maybe only a year old.

a squirrel had ran in front of him and the cat suddenly got free of it’s leash and took off towards some bushes near a house. you sighed deeply as you called the cat’s name and took off after it, mainly being dragged by the dogs thinking you’re having a race. it was unbelievable that you’ve managed to take a cat on a walk and even more unbelievable that you lost the said cat.

your heart raced as you pushed branches around looking for bear only to come up empty. what were you going to tell jungwon, that you lost his cat because it went after a squirrel on a walk with mostly dogs? even you wouldn’t believe yourself if you heard that come out your mouth.

you had looked for a good twenty minutes and still couldn’t find the brown cat. you took in another deep breath as you pulled out your phone to call jungwon to break the bad news. after a few rings, you heard his voice over the phone.

“hi jungwon, it’s y/n! i- uh-… i have some bad news. i kinda lost your cat?” you formed as a question. jungwon repeated your words, “you kinda lost my cat?” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you and explained the whole squirrel incident. jungwon’s laugh filled your ears and you smiled slightly. “where are you? i’ll help you find him.”

the two of you alternated between looking for his cat and looking after the dogs you were supposed to be walking. it took you both an hour to find him. bear kept jumping from bush to bush and having you run around the whole neighborhood looking for him.

you breathed a sigh of relief when jungwon came up from the bush with the brown cat in his arms. the cat immediately snuggled up to him and closed its eyes. “looks like someone had a rough day of hiding from us,” jungwon laughed as he pet bear, walking towards your direction.

“i’m really sorry for all of this jungwon,” you apologized again. this was all so embarrassing. you’ve been apologizing to jungwon since you met him. jungwon grinned at you, “you can make it up to me by letting me take you out for lunch.” heat rose to your cheeks as a shy smile spread across your face. you nodded, “it’s a date!”

taglist: @my313 @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

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loomiseater · 2 days

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Rambles

Warnings: smut ofc!, unprotected sex, oral male receiving, and p in v.

Spencer Reid x fem reader

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

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Written: April 28th, 2024

Published: April 28th 2024

Wc: 1452

A/N: I'm on the same episode as the gif lmao

Summary: You find Spencer’s ramblings really cute

“You got him started” Morgan said as he shook his head at you. He was referring to Spencer going on a ramble about some chemical reactions. “Reid! Enough” Morgan said with some seriousness in his voice. Spencer frowned a little at his words. “Don’t be mean!” You say as you slap Morgan’s arm. “His little rambles are cute!” You finish saying as Spencer’s face started turning red.

Morgan raised his eyebrow at me as Emily started smirking while sipping her drink. “Cute, huh?” Morgan teased. “Anyone else thirsty right now? Y/n?” Spencer questioned as he hurriedly went to the kitchen. He looked nervous..and on top of that his cheeks had hints of red on them. You hope he’s not too embarrassed.

“You’re not gonna follow your man?” Emily questioned with a smirk as you rolled your eyes, soon following Spencer. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much, Spence” You say, voice hinted with a bit of sadness. “Uh-What? You didn’t embarrass me, I have no idea what you’re talking about” he replied but his voice was pitched just a little bit.

You simply nodded your head not wanting to push him; a thought soon popped into your head. “I know a way I can apologize” you say innocently as he looked down at you. He let out a little laugh before saying “yeah?”. You drag him to an empty office that nobody has filled yet. After locking the door you push Spencer to sit down in the chair. “Why’d you lock the door, Y/n?” He questioned. Wow, he really is that innocent.

Without answering his question, you climb onto his lap brining him into a kiss. At first he didn’t know what to do, leaving his hands awkwardly positioned until he squeezed your ass a little. You both break away from the kiss that had left you both breathless. “You’re so handsome” You complimented while looking into his eyes. “Thank you” he replied sweetly.

His eyes soon fell back down to your lips before he brought you into another kiss which honestly was surprising. You begin to pull off his vest then moving on to unbutton his button down. You pull away from him which left him confused before you fell to your knees and started unbuckle his belt.

“I’ve never done this before” he said hesitantly as you gave him a warm smile. “Then I’ll make it extra special for you.”

After you unbuckled his belt, you unzipped his pants as he pulled them down along with his boxers. You pulled his cock out of his boxers and he was already hard. He was bigger than you expected. Never in a million years would you have thought Spencer Reid was packing this much.

He looks nervous as you stare at it for bit before you place a kiss to his tip which made him let out a whimper. You kiss it one more time before taking him whole. It was his first time so you didn’t wanna tease him too much. As you took him whole, his head flew back immediately as he let out a loud moan. You didn’t care who heard, you wanted the whole office to know that you were the only one who could give Spencer Reid this amount of pleasure.

You soon started slowly bobbing your head up and down on his dick as he let out choked sobs. “Fuck!” He moaned to himself. You grab his hand and place it to the back of your head wanting him to fuck your mouth. He grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail and started forcing you down harder. As much as you like pleasuring Spencer, you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks. His grunts and moans did nothing but make your panties soaked.

“Your mouth feels so good” he whined as he closed his eyes. You knew he was close to finishing but you took your mouth off his dick anyway. “I was close” he complained. “Shut up” you replied as you started sucking on his balls which made him shut up immediately. He let out a moan he didn’t know he had. As you were doing that, you wrapped your fingers around his aching cock which made grip the chair tightly.

His face was filled with nothing but pleasure. You moaned on his balls which led him to whine your name. “Please, Y/n- I just need t-“ your words cut him off as you started jerking him off faster. “Come on baby, cum for me” you say seductively.

That was the final straw for Spencer as he shot his warm liquid all on your hand. His moan was longer this time. You licked his mess up off his dick and your hand, afterwards you placed one last kiss on his tip.

“You liked that?” You ask innocently as he nodded his head with quickness. “Yes! Shit that was amazing!” He responded. “Good thing we’re not done yet” you say as you started stripping in front of him, slowly taking off your panties last. You lead him to the couch on the other side of the room. You lay down on your back first as Spencer got on top of you, grabbing his dick and teasing your folds with it. “Are you sure you wanna do this, Spence?” You asked sincerely. “I’m sure” he answered.

He pushed himself inside of you as you felt the stretch. This was the biggest you ever had inside of you, so this was definitely a new feeling. As he did his first thrust, he placed his face inside the crook of your neck before he let out a grunt.

He pulled back out and thrusted back into you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “Spencer!” You moaned as he sped up his pace. His thrusts were amazing considering he’s a virgin- well was a virgin. “You’re so tight” he whispered into your ear which made you whine a little. His husky voice just made you somehow wetter than before.

The room was filled with nothing but the sounds of your wetness, skin slapping, and Spencer’s grunts. With the way he was thrusting, you would’ve thought he was on a mission. He started kissing you passionately before he placed your legs on his shoulders. His actions made you clench around him as he shut his eyes before saying “shit! Don’t do that.” You did it again on purpose this time to see what he would do.

He slowed down his thrusts and started thrusting powerfully which took the air out of your lungs. “I told you not to do that again” he said as he squeezed my throat. He then picked up his pace again which had me whining like a baby. “Your dick is so good!” You scream as your legs start to shake. He lets out a low chuckle at your words before he starts to rub your clit slowly.

You close your eyes tightly due to the pleasure. “Spencer- it’s too much!” You whine as he kisses you to get yo to shut up. “We don’t want everyone to hear us now do we?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. “I think were too late for that” you respond breathless. He started rubbing your clit faster than before which made you squirt on him as smiled at his achievement.

“I think I can get one more out of you” he said cockily. He gave you one last powerful thrust which had you creaming on his dick. “YESSS!” You shouted as your nails dug deep into his back. He was still thrusting, trying to fuck you through your orgasm. You could tell he was close from his face expression.

“Where do you want it?” He grunted due to your tightness. “Inside me” you reply while gripping his hair, still somewhat out of breath from your orgasm. With no warning you felt his warm liquid fill you up. “Ugh- Shit thats the best thing I’ve ever felt” he said in your ear.

This was the first time I’ve ever fucked a man without protection and let him finish inside me.

“You sure you weren’t a virgin Spence?” I asked as fell on top of me. He laughed at my question before responding “I was, I just watch a lot of porn” he said seriously as I giggled. He started blushing, feeling completely embarrassed that he said that out loud.

“Was I good?” He asked sincerely. “You were perfect, Spencer” You reply while leaning in for a passionate kiss. “I forgot to ask..are you on birth control?” He questioned while looking down at me.

My silence was an answer for him.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #smut fic #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #bau team #loomiseater #spencerreidsmut

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sinning-23 · 9 months

Text

My Latest crush is an alien car from space Pt.3

Yall is eating this UPPP (rise of the mirage simps lmao) and I appreciate that so so much! Thank you all for the 300+ followers that's insane! Also, the taglist got bigger too! I got yall don't even worry about it lol. Anywho, there's a fuck ton of tension in this one and in the final part, I think yall know what's going diz-ownnnnn (alexa play pony by genuine) Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

(Heres the link to pt.2 luv)

Without further ado, ENJOY! (this one is a little short but pt.4 will be kinda lengthy)

Pt.3

Gimmie one margarita imma…

He was far taller than Mirage, robotic features more stressed-looking than anything. And before either you Noah or Mirage could protest, he pick you up by your shirt, your hands reaching to flatten your skirt. There was about a 99% chance you’d just flashed both Noah and Mirage.

The larger bot who you assumed was named Prime scans you, and soon his voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Who are you?”

The question is simple really but knowing you and the fact that he just picked you up with no kind of manners makes you slightly more irritable in your answer. Maybe you were a little butt hurt Mirage didn’t volunteer this information about there being other to you but know him he’d probably just say ‘You never asked!’ With that stupid, pretty, dumb, adorable look on his faceplates.

“I’m not answering anything because you just picked me up and expected me to give you answers. That’s rude first of all. Mirage, come get him-” You huff, seeing the larger bot raise a brow in response and look at the silver and blue-clad Autobot.

Mirage only chuckles nervously, removing you from Prime’s grasp, and putting his hands up in defense. You’d been only a tinnny bit aggressive when you’d met a couple days ago so why he expected you to be all peaches and cream with Optimus somewhat interrogating you, he had no idea.

“Listen, had another tiny setback. I promise this one isn’t always so…fussy. She’s cool. Cross my spark.” He explains nervously, seeing Prime's optics narrow. This mf just called you fussy? Like a damn infant???

You go to speak out, but the depth sounding in Prime’s vocalizer makes you freeze.

“You seem to have no concept of that undercover means. How you’ve landed in this predicament twice still baffles me” Prime sighs, looking back down at you.

You’d managed to take refuge behind Mirage, still embarrassed by the fact that you were almost 100% sure he got a glimpse of your panties. Despite the garage being empty yesterday, it obviously had some other tenants who hadn’t a clue in the world you existed until now. This was way outta your league. Robots and 3 more of them at that, were far too overwhelming and you’d be damned if you wound up in the middle of some cyber bullshit.

Sure you liked Mirage, his personality and kind of play boyish looks made you swoon MAYBE a little bit….but from the looks of it, there were already girls like that back where he lived, hell one of them was just standing behind Prime while he chewed out Mirage…..AND WHY WAS SHE KINDA CAKED UP? That was beside the point though, they already had one human (Noah), and Prime wasn't looking for any extras (you) from what it looked like.

Taking your chance to escape, you grab your purse and slide out of the garage quietly. The others were going from somewhat scolding Mirage to discussing a plan for something you didn’t quite care about at the moment. The best option was to disengage and maybe things could go back to normal! You could pack up for your apartment. Go back to work, maybe you’d do something with mechanics after this instead of nursing all day? You pop your AirPods in and press shuffle.

It was getting late but there was just enough sun to find you a spot to wait for an Uber home. You’d talk with Mirage later, it looked like he had other priorities. Speaking of which, what was that whole interaction??? You shake the thought away, that moan replaying in your mind. This was so wrong.

Your heart beats faster at the thought of how he seemed to melt under you, his servos hovering over your hips, wanting to touch but being so unsure. The way his otic seemed to be hazy and the way his fan picked up in speed. You run your hands down your face and sigh, definitely feeling like a drink would be the best option….speaking of which, you never did get your night out.

_______________

It didn’t take long before Mirage realized you weren’t behind him. You’d obviously hightailed it during Optimus’s scolding and slipped past him like a thief in the night. Part of him knows you’re capable of handling yourself but the other half knows it’s not safe, especially now that you both have been formally introduced. And with what Arcee had reported, Brooklyn wasn’t getting any safer.

Apparently, a few more terrorcons had made their way back and we’re trying to do a bit of avenging considering Optimus ended Scourge rather brutally. In all, Mirage wasn’t one for the violence but when it came to helping his friends and the ones he loved, he’d set that aside for the best.

Anyway, he didn't want you going anywhere without him, a sense of more or less responsibility for you washing over him. It was more of a protective feeling than anything, wanting to be the one to save you and keep you safe no matter what. The thought of you thanking him as your hero makes him weak. You knew what you were doing, touching him like that. He still couldn't get over the fact that you claimed it was for science….bullshit. The feeling was quickly becoming addictive and the longer you spent together the more he wanted you…fat chance.

________

Remixed renditions of Kesha songs blast through the clubs' speakers as you and your girls dance the night away. You each took about 3 shots to get your blood pumping and your closest friend was about to make it 4. Your body moves on its own, bass filling your chest as you catch any and all ass your friends decide to throw. You took pictures and posted them on your story and everything seemed good!...sorta. The last of your worries should be some cyber alien crush that isn't even here right now…you can't help but let your mind drift.

A wave of…what was that guilt? Washes over you as you take a break from the dance circle, alerting your girls that you be ‘going to the bathroom’ a lie of course. Maybe this wasn't a good idea? Part of you felt kinda committed to Mirage. Before you could make it down the hall past all the commotion, a pair of hands are warm against your hips. Whoever it is… they're tall. The faint smell of motor oil fills your senses and you whip around to see a pretty good-looking stranger with eyes blue as the damn sky smirking at you.

“Where you going, mamas?” He questions, moving his hips side to side playfully with the rhythm of the music.

You can't help but giggle. Something about him was so.. comfortable and fun and familiar, and so so so damn charming! He's smiling right back at you freckles somewhat adorning his face as his curly black hair falls over his eyes. He looks mixed, more so Hispanic or Latino and black. Blue eyes were odd though, but it didn't matter because, at the end of the day, this man looked like he'd won the genetic lottery.

Soon enough, you're back on the floor the cheers of your homegirls reaching your ears and you shake your head. This was just some spontaneous dude that just HAPPENED to catch you before you made it to the bathroom, not like you really needed to go anyway. He sways you, pulling a few cheesy dance moves here and there but it is enough to make you giggle. The previous song soon is chopped and screwed and transitioned to what sounded like a reverbed version of ‘Streets’.

Either way, the air had changed while people, couples or otherwise began finding space on the floor to dance up on one another. He didn't say much, spinning you slowly just before pulling your body to his gently. You may talk a lot of game, but you'd never danced with someone like this, let alone be so close. The feeling of his front pressed to your back makes you weak, the feeling sinking lower and lower as he holds each of your hips.

“Cálmate mama’s. You know I got you right?” He hums, your body relaxing a bit as you find the rhythm again, rolling your body with his to test the waters

That voice was so familiar….you ignore it, thinking it must the alcohol. There was no way he could…could he?

You didn't care, letting your head roll back and rest against his shoulder, your bodies synching with each other, his touch never feeling forced or aggressive. It's soft, kind, and almost loving...like he just wants to be able to feel your warmth, know the way you move. You work up the courage to speak, voice small, almost nervous.

“I didn't catch your name stranger.”You state, hoping his response would answer your question.

If this was really him, then there was no reason to feel bad about how up close and personal this was getting.

“You know my name, pretty girl. Kinda rude of you to walk out on me don't you think? You're lucky Noah was able to see where you were at based on your story.” He reveals, making you smile.

So it was him but how? Some kind of alien car tech you didn't know about? You didn't care, he was here and you were ACTUALLY holding him somehow.

“I'm sorry, looked like that meeting was important.” You explain, pressing against him more now, his grip tightening when you did, a hiss escaping his lips.

“It was but when I noticed you’d left I panicked a little. Noah told me where to find you and I knew I couldn't just waltz in. I'm parked outback, this is just a holoform.” He explains, flashing that stupid smile.

“So that's what this is, you look good 'Rag. Not the first time you've done this I'm assuming. You're far too good of a dancer.” You joke hearing gasp in faux hurt.

“Wowww it's like that lil mama? You're breakin' my spark.” He chuckles, pressing into you, making a gasp escape your throat.

You felt it…holy shit it was right against you, the miniskirt not helping at ALL, in fact, any more friction and he'd be right against your panties. The grip on your hips is only making you hot and his voice so close to your ear isn't helping. He smirks against the skin of your neck and takes the risk of kissing there. Another gasp, only this time it was more or less a whine.

“I'm not doing anything else until you tell me I got the green light. We both know this tension can only build for so long ‘til one of us breaks and I'm for damn sure about to fall apart if I can't taste you soon.” He admits, his voice trembling slightly when he speaks.

He was right though. The last 2 days had been filled with nothing but flirting, touching, and teasing and before you were so rudely interrupted in the garage earlier you were sure you were closer and closer to giving head. The music is still playing and most of your girls had given the two of you space to ‘dance’ a couple texting you to let you know where they were in case you needed them. It was definitely time to leave because any longer in this dark little corner of the club and you'd be trying to peel your clothes off.

He can practically feel your begging to lose any sense of morals, a few drink making your brain only a little foggy. That’d ware off by time you made it back home if you played your cards right. Turning to face him you cant help but let your eyes drift to his lips.

“You gonna let me ride?” You hum, lips pressed to his neck.

___________________________________________________________

Aweeee shit the perfect set up for pt.4 cause in the words of miss Megan thee stallion... we finna ride that dik like a stolen car HAHAAAA

No-so-mini-Taglist: @gniteruirui @veggiepizzababy @panty-h03 @justmare @merpmederp @rainbowpr1sm @mad-simp420 @insane-scientist

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angelrari · 8 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. iii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! i wanted to update earlier, but this week i've been super busy. once again thank you for commenting and supporting this. hope you enjoy this part!!! (i just realized i wanted to make this as a smau, but i just can't stop writting lmao)

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

joliedebelle posted a story

caption: it's padel time 🎾

10 am and the café was already packed. jolie sat in front of you, cappuccino in hand and eyeing the pain au chocolat she had ordered that was placed on the table.

"is this enough for you to forgive me for leaving your party early?". you asked starring at your sister.

"no, but it's a good start". she answered and she shrugged her shoulders. "i not going to let you win today".

"you never let me win when we play padel, jolie. i win because i am better". you replicated and she starred at you pretending to be offended. you chuckled. "come on, we're gonna be late and i can't wait to beat you".

"we will see".

· · · · ·

the padel courts were almost empty, you spotted a team of men on their 50s who jolie told you that they were always here. padel is theoretically played with two teams of two players each, but jolie and you usually bent the rules for singles play. jolie had booked the court number 3 and from afar you could spot two guys who were standing there.

"oh, there's somebody there". you said. "maybe they are finishing their practice".

"i actually invited them". jolie answered. "i guess it's my payback for you leaving early".

"you can't be serious". you said.

as soon as your sister said those words you rapidly connected the dots and stopped dead in your tracks. years ago, you would play with the youngest leclerc brothers whenever they had a free weekend, so it had to be them. jolie smiled at you while she grabbed your hand you make you continue walking.

"come on, y/n. charles asked about you yesterday like a hundred times, you two need to talk again".

you were very aware of the fact that charles and you needed to fix the awkward situation between the two of you. you had loved him to bits and nowadays this love still remained. whenever you thought of him, only good thoughts would come to your mind.

you kept moving, following your sister from behind. the leclerc brothers stood there watching you approach them. jolie rushed to hug arthur, who easily lifted her up while holding her tight in his arms. charles smiled at you and came closer to you. he opened his arms for you to hug him. and you did.

"i missed you". charles said as he moved his hands up and down your back.

"i did too". you admitted.

his masculine scent filled your lungs as you breathed in. it was the same as always. he look good, a bit more mature than the last time you had seen him and his body was bigger, stronger. after a few seconds, you broke the hug and starred at him with a smile of your face. one thing was clear: nothing couldn't break the friendship you'd built for twenty-six years.

"how have you been?". he asked, but before you could answer arthur hugged you from behind, resting his arms on your shoulders.

"hi sister". he said. he always had called you that way, even before charles and you started dating. he always said he felt like you were a part of his family. "you left early yesterday".

"not you too". you replied chuckling. "jolie keeps bringing it up every two minutes".

"you'll have to live with it". your sister said. "how are we gonna split into teams?".

"as always, right?". arhur suggested as he separated from you.

"are you okay with this?" charles asked looking at you.

"yeah, for the old times sake". you responded. "let's crush them again".

charles and you were one team while jolie and arthur were the other. your sister and your so-called brother walked towards the other side of the court, chatting with each other. charles, who had left your side a few seconds ago, walked to you and handed you the padel racket.

"thank you, charles".

"it's nothing". he said. "wanna do something afterwards? i was thinking we could go hiking for a bit".

"yeah, let's do it".

· · · · ·

the match had been so much fun. you had won, as always. jolie and arthur had left after it ended, leaving you and charles alone. outside the sports center, there was a hiking route charles and you had done a few times and you decided to take it.

charles knew he owed you an explanation. he hated seeing you with your guard up. last night, he had caught you a few times pretending to not see him and it hurt him. you had been (and still were) someone important in his life and he did not want this uncomfortable situation to last any longer. he had asked you about your studies abroad, about these two years you had barely spoken to each other and your future plans in monaco, but now the conversation had taken a turn and léa was the main topic of it.

"is it awkard for you? that i'm dating your best friend?". charles asked, looking at you. you could sense he was worried of your answer.

"it is". you confessed. "i just- i think being away from home and watching all of this happen from afar made things a bit more dramatic".

"what do you mean?".

"that if i had seen the process maybe i wouldn't have so many questions".

"well you can ask now and i'll gladly answer". charles said.

"when did it all start?". you asked. "the relationship with léa, i mean".

"it was earlier this year". he answered. "if i'm honest, we hadn't seen each other in months, but she was invited to the gp here and that's when things started to change".

"right".

"she came to the after party, you must already know that, i'm sure jolie had told you".

"she didn't actually, but i did get the gossip girl notification". you confessed. "you know you can't escape it even if you try".

"yeah". he agreed. "well, that night was when we started talking more. you know i don't have much time and i wasn't trying to meet anyone new, you know, to date. so, since i knew her from before, it kinda happened naturally. we kept seeing each other more and more and one night she told me she wanted us to try, to go on a date and see if it worked. obviously léa is pretty and she's fun".

"she is". you nodded. "she's charming".

"exactly, so i agreed and we realized we had good chemistry. and three months later, we are still together".

"i am happy for you". you said. "i mean it, i wish you both the best".

"thank you, y/n". he said, looking straight into your eyes. "many years have passed since we broke up, but i always think of you fondly".

"i feel the same way. i don't know how to put in words, but the memories are so beautiful i don't think i could ever dislike you".

"yeah". he said chuckling. "we were the greatest team".

· · · · ·

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