#(which is actually supposed to be his first but it was expensive to unlock)

[gyuswhore]

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

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

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

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

or;

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

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

PLAYLIST: right here!

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

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

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

“Never knew you read.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And believe you instead?” 

Oh, you wish.

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

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

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

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

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

“How far are you with that one?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t. 

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

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

“Did you drive like this?” 

“Uh, no, I walked.”

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

“Wanted to see you.”

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

“Had to talk about the book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 

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

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

“It’s not about that.” 

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

“Easy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hate living in peace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing here?” 

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

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

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

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

You really needed a new car. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had forgotten your book. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he uncomfortable with you? 

Was he avoiding you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 

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

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

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 

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

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 

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

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.” 

“O-okay.” 

It’s silent. Painfully so. 

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

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

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

“Mingyu—“

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

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

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

He pauses. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t. You can’t do it. 

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

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

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

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

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

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

“It’s not that!” you groan.

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

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

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

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

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

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

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

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

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

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

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 

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

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

“Seokmin!” you scream. 

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

“No, it’s not,” you grit. 

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

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

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

“I don’t want to go.”

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

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

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this. 

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

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

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

“Seok told me you were here too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back. 

And another

Then another. 

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

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

THE BEGINNING

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

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

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

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

You needed to leave. 

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

“Let’s go home.”

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

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

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

“Let me drop you off home.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 

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

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

“Nayeon’s” 

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Mingyu,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

“Great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you bring it with you?” 

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

“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We could do that right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so,” you reply.

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

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

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

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

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

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

“I love you more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 

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

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

He’s silent. 

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

No response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love ya’” he giggles. 

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

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

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

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

“Hey!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“And I love you.”

[maidflowery]

POV: You...

Aventurine x Reader

Good Night, a Million Loves 🂠 Illustrated 🂠

The two of you had just started going steady, but you noticed that Aventurine was holding back around you. Partly because you were easily flustered. You wanted to be bolder! You wanted to be the one who initiated from time to time! As such, you had to practice! What better way was there besides sneakily planting kisses on Aventurine while he was asleep?

With the determination of a brave hero about to have the last showdown with the Demon King, you marched toward the master bedroom of the unnecessarily huge penthouse, ascending the needlessly long spiral staircase.

As you got closer, your march quieted down to a tiptoe. Nevertheless, your resolve remained the same. It was what on the inside that mattered.

You stood in front of the door, pondering whether or not to knock.

In the end, you decided against it.

Aventurine was probably asleep already.

After spending the night a few times with him, you noticed that after an exhausting day at work, he’d usually fall asleep the moment he touched the bed.

Besides, you weren’t supposed to be here in the first place.

Your assigned room was all the way down the seemingly endless spiral staircase, to the left of the hall. Not only was it furnished according to your preferences, it was also filled to the brim with the latest, trendiest furniture. Moreover, the clothes in the walk-in(!) closet would be replaced every week. Of course, they were also designer goods.

The mattress was the fluffiest one you’d ever felt in your entire life. It was stuffed with swan feathers, and according to Aventurine, each feather was meticulously handpicked for its finest quality. Heck, the swan was probably sent by God for this important mission and sang every time a feather was plucked.

So why were you here instead of the cocoon of your heavenly bedroom?

First off, you already told him that room was way over the top!

...As for the second, it had a little to do with the fact that your relationship wasn’t progressing at all. And the fact that you slept in a separate bedroom had everything to do with that.

I mean, I did ask him that we should take it slow...

But apparently, ‘slow’ to Aventurine meant stopping altogether.

Well, not completely. You guys would still often go on a date, and whenever you spent the night with him, the two of you would always cuddle and watch movies...

But, but, snuggling, sometimes lap sitting, chaste kisses... and then a head pat before he went to bed?! Really?!

Aventurine was by no means inexperienced. Actually, it was him showing how experienced he was that got you here.

As they said, some things changed, some things stayed the same. Even after the two of you had gone steady, you were still the same old you from before dating. The same old you, who'd get so embarrassed you nearly had a heart attack every time he made an advance on you.

This can’t go on...!

You’d lose the right to call yourself his girlfriend at this rate! No, by this point, calling yourself his newly adopted cat would be more appropriate!

Which is why...!

Practice makes perfect! Goodbye, old you—welcome, new you!

You quietly pushed his door open. Previously, he said to you, ‘I’ll keep my bedroom door unlocked for you’—whatever that meant. True to his words, it opened without resistance. And as expected of an expensive door, it didn’t creak in the slightest.

Thus, you found yourself inside Aventurine’s bedroom. Of course, as his girlfriend, it wasn’t the first time you’d stepped inside his room. It was the third, actually.

The bedroom was a breathtaking blend of elegance and minimalism. It stretched out with vast, open space, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that flood the room with natural light and offered sweeping views of the night sky.

To one side, a custom-designed floating nightstand made of smooth marble housed a single, delicate vase with an orchid, perfectly balancing simplicity and luxury. Opposite the bed, an oversized mirror with a slim, brushed-gold frame reflects the natural light, enhancing the room's sense of openness.

At the center, a low-profile king-sized bed with crisp white linens and a subtly textured duvet, while the bed's sleek, matte black frame added a touch of sophistication. The bed sits on a plush, light-colored rug that extends across the gleaming hardwood floors, anchoring the room’s minimalist aesthetic.

In the middle of the bed, almost sinking into the pure white sheet, was a blond-haired man.

You approached the bed, but when you saw his figure, sound asleep, you reflexively spun around, covering your face.

Abort! Abort!

His pajamas! Was wide open! He was practically half-naked!

Young man—! Have the decency to cover yourself up—!

Your face started burning, the visage of Aventurine sleeping without a care, his bare torso fully exposed for the world to see, was seared into your memory.

Broad chest. Well-defined abs, each muscle sharply etched as if carved from stone. Slender waist, without excess fat. Even when you closed your eyes, you could still see them vividly!

But knowing Aventurine, after his late-night shower, he probably just couldn’t be bothered to wear clothes properly.

...In the first place, you were the intruder here. What right did you have to complain about his state of undress?

You couldn’t help but notice that the air conditioner blew a steady stream of cold air into the room.

“Geez. What if he catches a cold?”

You muttered quietly, trying to find a blanket. A brown velvet blanket lay near his feet, likely kicked off in his sleep, maybe because he felt too hot.

Then, just as you were about to tuck him in and call it a day, a thought crossed your mind.

R-right. I can start by practicing with a goodnight kiss! The one on the forehead!

You’d come this far. Wouldn't it be a waste to back down now? Besides, it was just a forehead kiss, anyway!

Slowly, you put one knee on the bed, then the other, careful not to make any noise as you climbed on top of him. You placed both of your hands on each side of his head, supporting yourself so that you didn’t rest against his body. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Aventurine was still sleeping soundly despite all that.

Under such a close proximity, where you could count his individual eyelash, you took in the sight of his sleeping face. You swooned without realizing. He looked so innocent and, dare you say, defenseless...?

As the one towering over him right now, you didn’t feel guilty or self-conscious or anything.

Since he was turning to the side, every time he exhaled, his warm breath caressed your wrist, tickling your skin.

Anyway, let’s do this.

You didn’t want to overstay your welcome. What if he woke up? How were you going to explain THIS?

You parted his wavy, golden bangs, the dainty locks as smooth as a silken thread. Then, as you brought your face closer to his, you stopped.

Once again, you came to realize how breathtakingly gorgeous he was.

“...This princely face belongs to a charlatan, huh?” You mumbled.

Perhaps this practice wouldn’t be so hard, after all.

Be it his long eyelashes, tall nose bridge, well-shaped, slightly parted red lips, minus his trademark smug grin... you wanted to kiss them all.

After placing a soft kiss on his smooth forehead, inhaling the fragrance of his shampoo, your lips trailed down his eyelids, his nose, then his cheek. It faintly tasted of soap. His lips were still out of your league.

Then, your gaze landed on his neck. To be precise, a certain tattoo on the left side of it.

‘SLAVE’

The word was written in standard letters, as if to make this man’s status obvious to everyone, regardless of whether they spoke the language. Obviously, it wasn't there by choice. Instead, he was branded like a cattle.

Without a doubt, many sad, harrowing memories were associated with it. You didn’t know why he never opted to erase it. Perhaps because he couldn’t care less. Or perhaps... as a reminder.

Even just looking at it felt excruciating. You wanted to erase it if you could. This tattoo. His tragic past. But at the same time, it was what made him him. So, you hated it as much as you loved it.

With such complicated feelings swirling inside your chest, you pressed your lips against his tattoo.

“Mmh—...”

Perhaps a tad too strongly. Because this time, Aventurine stirred. You quickly withdrew a bit.

He muttered something under his breath, which you didn’t fail to catch.

It was your name.

—!

Your heart was pounding heavily inside your chest.

Then, while burying his face within his pillow, Aventurine mumbled, “...The foods inside the fridge. If it’s still not enough... Call the chef...” He trailed off, falling asleep once again.

“...”

What was that about?

Did he mistake you for one of his cat critters? But he clearly said your name... So, he thought you were pestering him because you were hungry?! What, you were his cat now?!

You wouldn’t deny that you have a huge, almost ravenous appetite, but this was just too much!

“...Ah!”

Aventurine suddenly gasped and tensed up, probably—no, most likely—because you’d bitten his clavicle. Briefly, his eyes snapped open, but they were glazed over.

W-wait, what am I doing right now?!

If you wanted to prevent him from waking up, this definitely wasn't the way!

Thus, you gently brushed your lips over the spot you’d just bitten, as if trying to kiss it away. A crimson hue had appeared there, a testament to your sin.

My bad! Please go back to sleep, please go back to sleep...

While praying that inwardly, you continued to lavish attention on that spot while glancing at his face. Aventurine didn’t show signs of waking up.

What a relief...

Now was probably your chance to slip away. But still...

It smells so nice...

As you rested your chin against his sturdy chest, planting soft kisses all over his supple skin, you inhaled his scent. A refreshing blend of minty soap fragrance and him.

Just a bit more, should be okay, right...?

Without realizing it, your lips glided down to the thin space between his chest.

The scent seems to be most concentrated here...

Then down to his pecs. And down again.

Just as you faintly placed a kiss right above his navel...

“...You just don’t know when to stop, do you?”

You heard a raspy voice clouded with sleep right overhead.

...F*ck.

When you lifted your face, you found a pair of violet-cyan eyes piercing straight at you. They burned with silent, intense desire, which the owner seemed to desperately reign in.

“What are you doing...?”

He breathlessly asked, eyes never leaving you as he clutched his head, processing the sight before him.

“G-good night, Aventurine! I just dropped by to give you some goodnight kisses! Sleep well now! Nighty-night!”

Caught red-handed, you went on autopilot and blurted it out. But when you tried to escape, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in a crushing embrace against his upper body.

“Could've fooled me. Now, if you say that you wanted to rile me up instead...”

Is he angry because I disturbed his sleep?

“So-sorry—...!!”

At first, you wanted to apologize, but a certain hardness that had been pressing against your belly made you realize that probably wasn’t what he meant by ‘rile him up.’ Immediately, heat spread across your face like wildfire.

Pressed against his chest, you couldn’t see his expression, but you could feel his hands roaming around. First, combing your hair, then stroking your back, then caressing your waist. His actions screamed confusion, as if he had reached his limit but didn't know how to unleash it.

Burying his nose into your hair, Aventurine asked, “Do you know the saying ‘don’t sleep the disturbing beast?’”

“It’s ‘don’t disturb the sleeping beast.’ Aventurine, you’re clearly tired, go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s sleep together.”

“S-sounds good! Good night?”

You snuggled up against his chest, trying your best to ignore the rigidity poking your stomach.

“Good night.”

Aventurine whispered huskily, kissing your forehead as he tightened his grip around you.

“—Is that what you expected me to say?”

Then, in an instant, your worldview did a complete 180. Somehow, you found yourself laying on the bed, with Aventurine towering over you. Heat seemed to radiate from every inch of his body.

His multi-colored eyes were fixed on you, glinting like those of a ferocious beast that had cornered its prey.

“...Unfortunately, I’m no sweet prince.”

He heard that—?!

In his eyes, you could see your extremely panicked expression.

Flashing you his arrogant grin, Aventurine licked his lips.

“As someone said, I’m just a charlatan.”

Well, shit—!! Was he awake the whole time—?!

“A-Aventurine, listen... I really was just trying to give you a goodnight kiss! Well, some...”

“And I'm the densest man alive! Let's see... You came all the way here, climbed into my bed, and kissed me all over. I'd say the message is pretty clear."

Saying that, Aventurine’s lips came crashing down on you—

“—Mmph!”

To which you immediately blocked his mouth with both of your hands.

“Wait, wait, wait—!”

My mental preparation!

“I’ve waited long enough.” Aventurine said, gently but firmly removing your hands. His fingers slid to your wrist, tightening around it like a cuff.

He kissed and lightly gnawed on your hand, as if trying to release the heat swelling inside him bit by bit. Then, he cursed under his breath—it didn’t seem to be working.

Then, as his eyes bore into you, gleaming with wild, mysterious glint, he asked you.

“...And here I went through the trouble of assigning you a room all the way down there. Hey, do you know why?”

His tone was cheerful, as if he was quizzing you. But you knew that the closer he was to losing control, the lighter his tone became.

“No...? What does that have to do with anything...?”

Didn’t he just assign you whatever room was available?

As if reading your mind, Aventurine chimed in. “No, of course not. Otherwise, I wouldn't have disabled the elevator and installed that unnecessarily long staircase in the first place."

“You did WHAT—?! You remodeled the penthouse—?! Since when—?!”

“Ever since you started sleeping over.”

“...Why?”

Why do all those pointless things...?

“Hmm.” Aventurine sighed. He looked like a teacher who was fed up with a student who refused to understand, even after everything had been spelled out for them.

Then, he broke into a wide, devilish grin.

"Truly, innocence is bliss."

“Huh...?”

“Alright, I’ll give you a choice.”

“C-choice?”

Despite his question, he seemed to be the one weighing his options. His gaze said it all. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

“To make sweet love with an innocent vanilla prince, or whatever it was, or be claimed by this charlatan.”

He’ll never let me live it down, will he? Also, either way, it’s the same! Tonight, we’re going to-to...

Well, it wasn’t your first time! But every time, although he was by no means rough, he always turned things up to eleven, leaving you aching and unable to forget.

In short, Aventurine and the words "innocent" and "vanilla" were as far apart as Neptune and the Sun!!

To bide your time, you asked him some questions.

“W-what do you even know about the first one, anyway?!”

“Oh, you’ll be surprised.”

“Be more specific?!”

“You get to be on top?”

...That’s his definition of a sweet prince? Aventurine, you...

You gave him a judging look, but Aventurine paid you no heed and leaned down.

Settling his face near your breasts, he bit at the white ribbon on the center of your chemise. It was a pure white chemise with subtle frills and lace designs. Of course, it came with the room Aventurine provided for you.

“What are you doing—?! Ah, hey—!”

As you shrieked, he tugged at the ribbon with his teeth. Then, the ribbon—no, the whole chemise—came undone, falling to each side of your body like the wings of a spread butterfly.

“Wha—?!”

Why did it slide open so easily?!

“Hmm...?”

You were surprised, and so was Aventurine. Of course, for a different reason.

“...You’re wearing underwear beneath the lingerie? Who does that during a night raid? Interesting choice."

Your bra was in full view. You panicked and started covering yourself.

“Of course I’m wearing one! What night raid?! There’s no such thing in the first place!”

You still couldn’t get over how easily it fell off like that, leaving you with your last stronghold.

“Also, why did it come undone so easily?! With one tug of a ribbon?! The heck?!”

“Because I especially requested it to be that way, duh.”

Aventurine gave you an innocent smile, sliding his hand down your back.

Clink!

“Ah...!”

With that, your bra too, came undone. Aventurine deftly yanked it to the side, and it slipped right under your grasp, falling to the floor. All that remained were your hands, which stubbornly covered your chest, and your panties.

His hand left your back, softly tracing a path to your waist, then rested on your belly.

“By the way, you haven’t answered yet.”

“Nng...”

Locking eyes with you, Aventurine rested his face against his hand. With his other hand, he rhythmically rapped his fingertips against your stomach, as if counting time. His touches were ticklish, like the gentle sweep of a soft brush. Feeling butterflies in your stomach, you couldn’t help but gasp.

“So, which is it?”

Right, he asked a question...

Amidst the irresistible ticklishness, you recalled his question from before. And the way his gaze saddened when you asked about the prince.

Did he misunderstand? Did he take it as you calling his methods rough?

Then, you finally found your voice.

“...The first one.”

“Mm,” Aventurine murmured in assent, his gaze slightly downcast.

“...or the second one, doesn’t matter. I love every side of you.”

“...!”

He lit-up, his violet-cyan eyes regained their luminosity.

So, you weren’t mistaken after all.

But then, Aventurine did something unexpected.

“...I’d like to apologize beforehand.”

Huh? Why is he apologizing all of the sudden?

Briefly, you thought he was suggesting that the two of you should just snuggle and go to sleep after all.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

As he drew closer to you, you could see an ever-burning blue flame blazing within his gaze. His hand traveled down, reaching for the last piece of clothing on your body.

Then, just as your lips were about to touch...

...Aventurine stopped. Even his hand merely rested on your waist.

With every ounce of rationality and self-control he could muster, Aventurine endured the raging fire within him. As he stared straight into your eyes, an uncharacteristic look of hesitation and doubt appeared on his face.

You truly did not expect that from the perpetually smiling gambler.

“—That’s why... if you want to stop, now is your chance.”

Yet, you knew that he was just afraid of hurting you.

Him agreeing to take it slow. The separate rooms. The long staircase.

Thus, you sat up, smiled, and kissed him on the lips.

His eyes widened instantly. After all, it was the first time you had kissed him on your own.

The kiss should've been brief, but he refused to let it end. He pursued you down, the mattress sinking under your weight. Before you knew it, he was fiercely gnawing and sucking on your lips, hardly allowing you to catch your breath.

Then, in-between the kisses that you couldn't tell when they began or ended, he whispered...

“Me, too.”

He grasped your hand firmly, intertwining his fingers with yours, as if preventing your escape. Yet, it felt as if he was clinging to you in dear life instead.

As if he was afraid you'd disappear in the next second.

Your mind was blank, but you could feel something slid down your legs as he spoke beside your ear:

“I love you, too.”

This whisper, a rare moment of honesty from the blond gambler, soon faded amid a cacophony of noises.

The next day, you were being princess-carried by Aventurine down the long-ass stairs.

The two of you were about to get “breakfast.” Yes, breakfast, even though the sun was almost setting outside the window. You just woke up, okay?!

"...Still, to think that my usually shy and demure girlfriend would make a move on me like that! I was so afraid I'd wake up and find it was just a dream!"

Beside you, Aventurine was happily recounting last night’s tale. He seemed so full of vigor, he was basically sparkling.

...Just how?

Huh? The two of you were now huddled so close, sticking to each other like a lovey-dovey newlywed couple after what happened last night, you ask?

...No, it was because you couldn’t walk, dammit!!!

Even the slightest sway as he descended each flight of stairs sent a stinging pain to your waist.

Curse it! Curse Aventurine and his prowess!

“—Just, just how many stairs are there...?” You asked amid the crippling exhaustion. Even your voice was hoarse.

You couldn’t believe you just climbed all those stairs last night. No wonder it felt so tiring, and you had to take a few breaks.

“There are precisely 88 steps. You see, whenever you spend the night, I always take a slow walk down these stairs, counting each one.”

What’s with that weird hobby? Is this one of those 'Rich People Daily Routines That Made Them Millionaires' or something?

Also, what does that have to do with me sleeping over?

“—Then, poof. The urge to barge into your room disappears.”

“Huh? Wait, what—”

“I wonder what’s for breakfast~”

Set before the story:

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[augustinewrites]

for @missmeinyourbones bcs you always say kind things to me!! thank you <3

back when dabi was still touya, he loved watching romantic comedies. 

whenever her shitbag husband was out on an overnight mission, rei would put them on after she’d tucked them all into bed. …or at least she thought she did. because he and fuyumi would sneak out of bed, peeking into the living room from the hall anyway.

once in a while he thinks about it. thinks about the way his mother would let them sit with her, and the way he and fuyumi would giggle when the couple on the screen kissed, and no one reached around to cover their eyes. (but thinking about this brings back that dull ache between his ribs, which is why he doesn’t do it often.)

what he does think about often are the couples on the screen. about the awful clichés and predictable plots. the lovesick schmuck in a suit that’s fresh off a boring 9 to 5, flowers in hand to take his love interest to dinner. 

(thinking back, there was probably a reason for the genre his mom chose, but unpacking all of that would require the help of a shrink he didn’t have the dough to see).

he’s only been thinking about these couples often because of, well, you. if this were a movie, he’d say it was fate that led him to get stabbed and promptly pass out in an alley close to your hospital. you’d nurse him back to health in your cute apartment, saving his life and domesticating him in the process. 

but this wasn’t a movie. and even though you’d saved his life, all he'd done to repay you was bleed all over your rug and steal the change on your counter before jumping out the window. 

and you must have been all kinds of desperate, because when he put his hands into his coat pocket he'd found your number written on a slip of paper.

just in case, you'd written.

he stole a burner phone the next day and, like the couples on the tv say, the rest was history.

you were like a bad habit, because he swore every night he went to see you was supposed to be his last. you were so damn annoying, asking him shit like how his day went and if he'd eaten. offering to wash his clothes like some sort of pervert.

but then he’d tell you he was exhausted and starving from all the felonies he’d committed and you’d let him sleep on your couch. then he’d dip out the next morning with his clothes smelling like freesia or some shit he’d rather die than admit he kinda liked.

and eventually…he was okay with it. okay with you and this stupid love you’d dragged him into. you let him come and go as he pleased, the latch on your window always unlocked just for him, cause no matter what, he always came back. 

but everything is fucked. this city is fucked and this country is fucked, and dabi’s hiding out on the fire escape when you join him.

your shoulder brushes his as you sit next to him on the step, and he doesn’t have to look to know you’ve got that big frown downturning your lips. it’s far from the first fight the two of you have had since starting this…relationship, but it’s the first time he can safely say he’s not sure you’ll bother wanting to salvage it. 

(he thinks that after every fight, actually. but you seem to have this endless patience for him that he doesn’t understand nor deserve.)

hugging your knees to your chest, you ask, “are you going to leave?”

“yeah.” 

“are you coming back this time?” you ask quietly. 

“don’t know,” he shrugs.

you don’t say anything for a long while and neither does dabi. he should just leave, ditch you out on your fire escape and fuck off somewhere into the city. maybe he’d get shitfaced enough to crash at the league’s hideout, or maybe he’d blackmail birdbrain into letting him get shitfaced at his place then crash on his ridiculously expensive couch. he’ll figure it out later.

it’d certainly be easier to leave and figure it out if you yelled and swore, maybe even slapped him a little. 

you don’t do any of those things though, because anger isn’t embedded in your dna like it is in his. instead you give him a look that’s half-pity, half-disappointment, and it stings all the same.

“you always do this,” you sigh, staring straight ahead at the flickering city lights. “whenever this happens, you refuse to talk about it after. and– and when i try to give you space to figure your stuff out…you run.” 

you don’t say it angrily, like you’d be within your right to be. you say it…softly. tiredly. you’re not trying to antagonize him, just stating a fact, and it makes him feel shittier.

“well, ‘s not like ya need me around anyway,” he shrugs. 

you look at him this time, “of course i don’t need you.” 

dabi had said it first, but hearing you say it hurt, strangely. like a faint touch upon a fresh bruise. 

but you’re not done, listing things off on your fingers. “you don’t pay rent, you eat all my groceries, you track your dirty boots through my living room, and i don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you are a wanted criminal, you know.” 

he chuckles at that. it’s only very slightly, but it makes you break into a smile. “jeez, babe. you sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

“i know,” you hum, nudging his knee with yours. “but that’s my point. i don’t need you. but we– i want you anyway.” 

you offer him your hand, palm upturned, and for a second he doesn’t want to run. he wants to take your hand and let you guide him back inside. wants to cuddle with you in your too-soft bed with all your blankets and the stuffed animals he'd stolen for you.

then he sees the recently patched up burn on your wrist and he’s reminded that he’s stupid. stupid for thinking he could ever have anything past…this with you. 

you follow his gaze, pulling your sleeve down quickly as you murmur, “it was an accident.” 

he’d been running hot. hot like he always did when you fought. then you’d turned away and he’d reached for you, forgetting.

it was an accident, yeah, but you don’t deserve it. 

you want him. but you deserve the schmuck in the suit  who can help you pay rent and buy groceries. 

so he decides that this is the last night. he lets you guide him to bed, and once you’ve fallen asleep, he eases his arm out from under your head to pull the covers up to your chin.  

sometimes his heart is so big that he can’t stand it. he’s letting you go. you’re better off without him—

but you catch his hand as he’s about to slip out of bed, unflinching as your thumb brushes across cool metal. 

“stay,” you murmur, eyes slowly blinking open to peer at him in the darkness. 

“i can’t,” he mutters, averting his gaze from yours.

“stay,” you say a little more firmly this time. “or i swear to god i’m going to call your mother.”

he rolls his eyes, choosing to indulge you one last time (he does not take your threat lightly, either). he lets you plant kisses up the column of his throat and rest you he’d on his chest. but it’s just until he’s sure your out cold, then he’s definitely gone. he’ll be out the window and out of your hair—

“i love you, touya,” you whisper. 

“yeah, whatever, you brat,” he grunts, but he places his hand over yours, turning his head to the side to press a kiss to your forehead before murmuring the words against your skin.

[bethanydelleman]

Northanger Abbey Readthrough Ch 22

Well the manuscript is a washing bill. (The Thing About Austen podcast has a great episode about this btw).

She felt humbled to the dust. Could not the adventure of the chest have taught her wisdom? A corner of it, catching her eye as she lay, seemed to rise up in judgment against her. Nothing could now be clearer than the absurdity of her recent fancies. To suppose that a manuscript of many generations back could have remained undiscovered in a room such as that, so modern, so habitable!—Or that she should be the first to possess the skill of unlocking a cabinet, the key of which was open to all!

Catherine also deduces that she had so much trouble with the lock because she was the one who locked it, it was left open for guests to use. She is mortified and doesn't want Henry to find out what she's been doing. So she smoothly transitions into... loving hyacinths.

it is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible

Who said this book has bad writing, there are so many quotable lines! So much to dwell on. I love Henry saying it will help Catherine go out of doors and she's like, "Pft, you can't get me inside." Also asking if Eleanor has a pleasant mode of instruction is totally a callback to Catherine comparing learning to torment!

The General talks about needing to purchase a new tea set soon and Catherine was probably the only one of the party who did not understand him. ✈️✈️✈️ Then Catherine asks about Woodston and the General does that thing again where he pretends to defer to Eleanor, but then actually just steamrolls over her and answers himself. Grrrr

So then the General gaslights Catherine so hard she thinks she is disappointing him by going on a walk. I hate this man. He clearly wants to go for a walk but pretends that it is her idea which leaves Catherine super confused. Catherine did not exactly know how this was to be understood. He's selfish and regimented, Catherine., that's the whole mystery.

The general listened with assenting gratitude; and it seemed as if his own estimation of Northanger had waited unfixed till that hour.

He is kind of funny though...

General Tilney demanding praise reminds me of Mr. Collins:

The general was flattered by her looks of surprise, which told him almost as plainly, as he soon forced her to tell him in words, that she had never seen any gardens at all equal to them before

Here, leading the way through every walk and cross walk, and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked for, every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind... (this is his own grounds) Elizabeth was called on by her cousin to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, for Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But her commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her Ladyship’s praise into his own hands. Pride & Prejudice

Also, it's a tiny line, but the fact that General Tilney is growing greenhouse pineapples is apparently a huge indicator of his wealth. For those who don't know, pineapples take about 2 years per fruit and each plant only grows 1. In England, you would need year-round heated greenhouses, and just an insane amount of wealth. Especially if he's just eating them himself and not selling them, this would be so expensive I can't even.

Catherine cannot resist a Gothic looking path, struck by its gloomy aspect, and eager to enter it, but the General will not join them. This is the beginning of Catherine's ill founded suspicions that General Tilney did not love his wife and also... murdered her. Or locked her up! Every word Eleanor says only seems to confirm her notions!

I love this: She had often read of such characters, characters which Mr. Allen had been used to call unnatural and overdrawn; but here was proof positive of the contrary. Listen to wise Mr. Allen, Catherine!

Now, at some point I have to address the elephant in the room that is Catherine letting her imagination get the best of her and believing that General Tilney is either a wife murderer or... Edward Rochester 30 years too early. I think it has a lot to do with things like this:

Catherine was shocked to find how much her spirits were relieved by the separation. (from General Tilney)

Catherine's confusion is between mundane evil (verbally abusive towards his children, overbearing) and dramatic evil. General Tilney is not a good person, Catherine's final conclusion way at the end is that she didn't actually get him wrong in character, but she erred in the expression of that character. Which is probably why Henry is pretty quick to forgive her, it's not like his father is a super nice person and he knows it.

It is clear that Catherine is picking up on something real. General Tilney does have an explosive temper, his children are afraid of him, he was cruel to his wife (if he treated her anything like Eleanor that couldn't have been fun), and his kindness feels oppressive because it is ultimately false. Not knowing anyone like the General, Catherine defaults to the evil she does know, which is in her dramatic horrid novels.

Anyway, the point is, General Tilney is still the worst even if he didn't murder his wife and Catherine wasn't totally insane to think of it.

Oh, also her confusion about the tour of the house. What Catherine is not picking up on is the General's deep desire to brag about his house.

[hyouta]

Some KH ramblings as I play through the entire series for the first time...

I've only played and finished KH1, Days and DDD despite owning the rest for quite some time now and I don't know what awoke the urge but I finally got my ps4 back from my dad so I can properly experience the series myself rather than through watching cutscenes (and honestly I only really remember maybe 60-70% of cutscenes, which is mostly sea salt fam related). I replayed KH1 final mix, thinking I played KH1 final mix originally but honestly I think I first played the ps2 version (I do have a copy for the ps3) because I remember so vividly grinding for materials for the ultima keyblade, when I couldn't even unlock the recipe thise time around. I don't really plan to try to 100% or platinum everything any time soon.

KH1 is KH1, not much to say, got a bit nauseated by the camera in Hollow Bastion specifically for some reason.

RE:Com on the other hand. Oh boy... One of my earliest tweets about this game was about how I found it insufferable. Actually looking at the tweets I did post I was struggling a lot. In defense of RE:Com that insufferable tweet came after I made the rookie mistake of going to Wonderland FIRST because I thought I was supposed to go in KH1 order. After I grinded in Traverse Town for a bit I was fine...

After playing through the game (thank you youtube card deck guides), including Reverse/Rebirth, I can honestly say that it wasn't all that bad. I think it wins points for being unique with its gameplay.

I still wasn't great at it... had to redo some bosses a few times, literally won against Ursula (who was supposed to be easy, oops) with a 0 card and cures, over and over because I panic spammed my deck away. I beat Marluxia first time though! That's something right! I was so relieved that I actually put my face in my hands lmao

Anyway... I'm currently playing KH2 and I'm enjoying it quite a bit. BBS and KH3 are the games I'm still looking forward to playing the most and I tweeted about how KH2 was like the raimi spider-man movies to me. Talked so highly of at the expense of the other games that I was a little put off, but like those movies, I am experiencing them for myself and they aren't so bad.

Having played Days, but not playing KH2, and then finally playing as Roxas in his last week... just about killed me. Twilight Town in KH2 is so good, I can't wait to see it in KH3.

"Not the hints to the akusai divorce lol" I think this was re: Saïx and Xemnas talking and oof, I did not remember that cutscene at all... it probably wasn't what they were hinting at but it hurt all the same.

I think I paused before the worlds visit round 2 for an Echoes of Wisdom break and I'm back now! About level... 42 ish going to Halloweentown for the second visit. I don't know how far that is but I assume 60%?

Xaldin cooked my ass, Mickey had to save me twice but second time it was because Donald prioritised healing Beast instead of Sora. Also, gotta say, hate anti-form. Level up limit forms they said, it'll help you out with bosses they said. Nah, gotta run around until anti-form runs out so I don't die immediately. Am I playing that form wrong??

I was playing tug of war with myself but I will be replaying Days for DS then watching the movie (and doing the same with Re:coded) after this.

Man, I just... have so much more I wanna talk about it's awful dhgkjdfg I wouldn't want to bother any mutuals about it if it's not something they care for... I have a list of Sea salt fam (and some others) pics I want to draw but don't know if I'll manage to draw them before my interests switch again. I'm currently working on what was an Axel doodle, that might be a bit more but I'm not sure... work drains so much out of me.

[the-kcm-muggleborn]

Kind For You

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

O/C: Sebastian Sallow x Edwart Thompson x Ominis Gaunt ✨️platonic✨️ (My OC)

Warnings: light swearing (Damn, Fuck, Shit, Ass)

Word count: 1k>

Chapter 2

Part 2

“Hello” Edwart whispered startling Sebastian 

“Hi!” Sebastian whispered back with enthusiasm and pointed “See there? That's the door that we need to reach and those annoying prefects would love nothing more than to rat on us to Scribner, so don't let them see us - understood?”

“I'll be fine. Let's go” Edwart stated and turned towards the stairs

“Hold on now,” Sebastian called quietly after him. “There's a spell you should know - the Disillusionment Charm. “Good for getting to places you're not supposed to be.”

“You mean I'll actually be able to turn invisible?” Edwart answered with a hint of suspension.

“Something like that.” Sebastian smiled “It's not as foolproof as a cloak, but those are expensive. And spells- spells are free. Give it a try!”

Edwart tried a few times before he got it. “Okay. I'm ready.”

“Focus. If you let your mind escape, the charm could wear off and you'll start being visible again. ”

“Happened to you, I presume?” Edwart answered cheekily 

Sebastian smiled reminiscently.

“I can't go around telling you all my secrets now” 

“Knowing you, you would spill every secret if I've just asked” Edwart scoffed playfully

Sebastian opened his mouth but didn't say anything. Edwart was not wrong. As secretive as he was, Sebastian couldn't keep his trap shut. Not really. 

“Enough talking, let's go” Edwart stated

They kept walking with focused minds on the Disillusionment charm not to get caught but when they reached the library Sebastian caught onto Edwarts shoulder and whisper-shouted “Blast! The librarian is still here! Quick hide behind that bookshelf.”

“Damn” Sebastian whispered 

“You told me the librarian would be gone by now” Edwart whispered with a bit of frustration.

“I said usually.” Sebastian frowned. "But it'll still be all right. Do you see her desk behind me?” 

Edwart leaned out from behind the bookshelf but Sebastian roughly pulled him back. Which made Edwart fall to the ground. Thankfully the librarian turned into another aisle far from the students 

“Wha-” 

“Do you want to get caught?” Sebastian asked with furrowed brows.

“You didn't have to push me!” Edwart snapped and got back to his feet.

“I'm sorry my dearest Prince for not treating you with the utmost delicacy you deserve,” Sebastian almost sneered, “but we don't have time for this. I'll go distract Scribner while you go get that key. We meet in front of that gated area. Understood?”

“Understood” Edwart sulked for a second and left towards the librarian's desk. More carefully this time around.

While Edwart was looking for the key. Sebastian on the other hand was leading Scribner to the furthest corner away from the restricted section.“Is that you Peeves?” she asked as her voice carried through the library.

Finally, Sebastian silently cast bombarda when the librarian wasn't looking and he quickly ran towards the restricted section keeping his head low. He only heard a heavy sign behind him. “Merlin, look at this mess!”

Edwart was already waiting. “Good job,” he said as he quietly unlocked the restricted section door.

“I said I’d get you in. And I always keep my word. You just need to start trusting me more.” Sebastian said cheekily 

Edwart chuckled a little “I don't think so. You are quite an unstable and chaotic student to be trusted with. Let's get to work.” 

They both walked in the restricted section. Edwart locked the padlock back onto the door. As Sebastian asked, confusedly, “What are you doing?” 

Edwart rolled his hazel eyes and responded. “You're not the brightest candle on stage, are you? I'm making it look as if nobody has touched it.” 

Edwart took one look at Sebastian and added quickly “I am keeping the key. For all I know you're gonna lose it the first chance you get.”

Sebastian smiled mischievously as they continued walking through the restricted section “Well it wouldn't matter. Now that you unlocked it with the real key we can just use Alohomora on the way back”

Edwart looked at him intrigued “A Spell? Interesting. But there’s a counter-charm to it is there not? That's why we had to use the key?” 

“Precisely. I see you are picking up quite fast! It's only your third day in Hogwarts” 

Edwart scoffed playfully “Well I should hope so. I did just spend almost an entire night in the Hufflepuff common room, studying Spells, Jinxes, Charms, counter-charms and many others.”

Sebastian looked at his companion with mixed emotions, while Edwart continued more under his nose. “It looks like I have duelling handled. It's that more precise magic in Charms class stands a little problem to me.”

“Well, when do you sleep? In between classes?” Sebastian finally spoke with a chuckle but also with concern.

Edwart didn't look at Sebastian “Something like that… I don't sleep very well, you see. I try to get sleep when I can but it's not easy. That’s why I apologise in advance when I’m being a more snappy ass sometimes.” 

“That’s alright,” Sebastian answered with a grimace. “I was here earlier today because I’m looking for a cure for my twin sister- Anne. We’ve tried everything from Nurse Blainey to St.Mungos. No one was able to help her so I’m trying”

Edwart looked at him and spoke with sincerity “I understand.” 

Sebastian and Edwart were looking for quite a while before one of them finally spoke.“What are you even looking for? I might be of help” Sebastian grinned a bit.

“I’ll know it when I see it” Edwart answered absent-mindedly

“Awfully cryptic, as usual,” Sebastian muttered under his breath.“Secrets of the Darkest Arts… I'm impressed” 

“What?” Edwart looked at him confused 

“What ‘what’?” Sebastian answered, "Look over there. There is another section here maybe there we can find what you're-” 

“WHO HAVE WE HERE!” a loud taunting voice of Peeves boomed through the basement section of the restricted section Sebastian and Edwart were in. “SEBASTIAN SALLOW AND HIS LITTLE FRIEND. OUR EXPLORING WHERE THEY SHOULDN'T BE!”

Sebastian and Edwart froze

“NAUGHTY NAUGHTY! YOU'LL GET CAUGHTY”

“Peeves don't you-” Sebastian finally spoked

“I'M GOING TO TELL. I'M GOING TO TELL. I'M GOING TO TELL” Peeves taunted with audible pleasure while floating away to where they came from.

“Fuck” Edwart pinched the bridge of his nose as he exhaled 

“Ugh. Blasted Peeves! I've got to stop him or at least get to the librarian with a good excuse for all of this!” 

Edwart finally looked at Sebastian in a dazed manner.

He stopped Sebastian by his sleeve and asked with furrowed eyebrows. “What? How do I know you won't go to the librarian and blame this all on me?”

“Why would I do that? I like friends who are in my debts” Sebastian teased “Now go, good luck in your search.”

Edwart quickly turned around and walked away while Sebastian put the Disillusionment charm once again and mumbled “Now where's that damn poltergeist got to”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Edwart was quite grateful Sebastian didn't see him like this. Even though he found the book quite swiftly. Edwart looked ghastly. His robes were ripped and lightly stained with blood, he was exhausted but at least he got to prove himself to Professor Fig.

“Sebastian?” Edwart whisper-shouted but before had a chance to look around for Sebastian, he heard a horrendous almost squeaky voice.

“Sneaking in the Restricted Section - again!” Edwar quickly hid behind a short bookshelf “I had thought we were through with this mischief. Clearly, detentions are insufficient.”

“Damn,” Edwart thought, “How many times did Sebastian get in trouble for doing this?”

“I'm afraid I must take this to the headmaster.” Scribner continued 

Edwart started internally panicking 

“But -” Sebastian tried to speak but Scribner continued her scolding

“That being said, Peeves informs me that you didn't come alone tonight… You're a bright boy. Don't waste this.”

“Shit! Shit! Now he was done for.” Edwart was even wondering if he should stand up and interrupt so Sebastian wouldn't get in so much trouble. Edwart saw his Hufflepuff traits peaking during this stressful situation. On the other hand, If Edwart gets in trouble it would come back to his guardian. He would get his privileges revoked in the summer when he would come back to London. He simply couldn’t risk it.

After only a second of hesitation, Sebastian finally spoke with confidence.

“Peeves seems to be mistaken. There was nobody else. I came alone”

Edwart couldn't believe his ears…

A boy he had barely any trust in and no respect for his loud irritating mouth has stood his ground to protect him from trouble. Even though Edwart has been so nasty to him. 

Sebastian took all the consequences on himself…

“Oh, Sebastian. What will your uncle say?” Scribner's voice pulled Edwart to reality as she called for a prefect.

“Master Wright! Please walk this troublesome student back to his common room, and deduct as many points as you believe are necessary.”

That's when Edwart decided to silently retrieve back to his common room being stuck in the thought of what Sebastian had done tonight.

- - - - - - - - - Author's notes- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

<Part 1 /// Part 3>

MASTERLIST

Thank you so much for reading Part 2 of Chapter 2 of my fanficion. Ah! DRAMA, finally! the restricted section in full colour! ALSO I've been so excited to start showing Edwart more in my fanfics. I hope you enjoy it dear reader! There are many more to come (photos and chapters)

English is not my first language keep that in mind:-]

[pheonyxian]

Baldur's Gate 3: Sexless Any% Part 2

Part 1

Updated our old friend ratings and made three new ones! Including one that I know you animals have been not normal about.

Shadowheart: Basically the same, keep learning bits and pieces about her backstory, and she asks me not to pry, and I don't. Her dialog menu is literally full of shit like "We should talk about [thing you expressly told me not to talk about multiple times]" and "We should get to know each other better" and "I'm offended you kept secrets from me, a guy you've only known for five days." 2/10 literally nothing's changed.

Gale: Remember when I said I shamelessly like charismatic male characters who use charm to hide their dark secrets? Addendum: They have to do it for the *aesthetic.* The inner turmoil. Gale does it for profit. I'm offended. He said if I don't feed him expensive magical artifacts then the world is going to end. Not gonna lie I want to deny him any and all magical artifacts just to see if he explodes. 1/10 definitely sold essential oils in the past.

Astarion: We agreed that last night meant nothing and he was free to explore other necks, especially the bandits and paladins that try to kill us. Which actually unlocked a feature that allows him to drain HP from any living creature as a bonus action and gain +1 to skill checks. So remind me to play a vampire in my next DnD game. Regardless, now that we're just good friends we opened up about our lack of previous vampiric partners and gossiped about which companions would be a good drink and told each other our faces are pretty and other completely platonic things. 7/10 played bite/marry/kill with the other companions.

Lae'zel: I was supposed to recruit Lae'zel like, immediately after recruiting Shadowheart, but I was an idiot and walked right past her cutscene trigger. Thankfully six hours later I figured I really should have seen her by now and backtracked. Her first impression is very rough but talk to her a bit and turns out she can fight AND is well read AND literally gains influence with practically every action I do. Only issue is her one track mind to go to something called a creche and be "purified" of the mind flayer parasites, which is definitely not going to be some Logan's Run/The Island shit. 8/10 Not looking to avoid spoilers but you KNOW the fanbase underrates her.

Wyll: I heard someone describe Wyll as "main character energy" and yeah that's it. Go look up his intro cutscene if you haven't seen it. 6/10 have seen the thing with his patron and Karlach but honestly still too early to tell.

Karlach: Valid. 10/10

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables and @kaiusvnoir! :D

Words: grit, slam, high, soft, yellow, silent, share, drop and real. These are from The Power and the Glory, Gracemeadow Manor, and The Unfortunate Moth:

Grit:

Tananerl was less a principality and more a loose association of kingdoms and tribes who were forced to work together with gritted teeth. As such its capital was constantly disputed. Five thousand years ago Ilaran came up with the idea of having two capitals, a temporary summer one and a permanent winter one. The summer one was a different city each year and moved around all the kingdoms in turn. The winter one was Magdrőd-Keszgy, capital of Ahalál. Ilaran might only be Prince of Tananerl, but he was also still King of Ahalál.

Slam:

Doors slammed and the building shook. Abi's hand brushed against a doorknob. She grabbed it and staggered into the room beyond. It was dark as midnight. She stayed close to the wall as she tried to feel her way to the other side of the room. Someone was still slamming doors. With a jolt she realised, That's gunfire.

High:

"I said I meddled in necromancy and accidentally killed myself. Then I -- also accidentally -- brought myself back to life. Actually, you might say I annoyed Death into bringing me back. She doesn't have a high opinion of necromancers. In fact I suspect she went out of her way to ruin everything for me."

Soft:

Abi circled overhead. Her feathers shone so brightly she looked like a small comet. She landed on the gate of the spaceport. It was the only way in and Irímé lay facing it so nothing could sneak up on them. She trilled softly. In this form Irímé had no way to tell her he couldn't understand her. He tried to get the message across by tilting his head to the side and giving her an unimpressed look.

Yellow:

By the time the servants finally showed Abihira into her sister's living room she would have happily raised an army of the dead just to destroy the house. The sight that greeted her was not calculated to improve her mood or raise her opinion of the palace. Líusal's living room was a riot of colour and tastelessness. Never before had Abihira seen wallpaper with stripes of magenta and sickly yellow. She hoped she never saw it again.

Silent:

Jane unlocked the back door. Her hands were covered in blood but they left no mark on the white paint. Arthur was a silent presence at her side. She didn't speak to him.

Share:

Phil counted back from ten as she left the balcony. Her room was much smaller — and less expensive — than her aunt's, but it had one advantage: it had a phone. This was solely for her aunt's convenience. When staying in hotels Rachael Patton-Langdale refused to have a phone in her own room where it could disturb her sleep. She was much more cavalier about her niece's sleep being disturbed. Phil had lost count of the times she'd been jolted awake by some business partner of her aunt's phoning about stocks and shares and goodness knew what.

Drop:

Colman dropped the last sheaf of papers on top of the pile. He watched without apparent surprise as they promptly slid off and fell to the floor. Yo-han resisted the urge to suggest he should take housekeeping lessons.

Real:

After the first two days the gossip about Mirio and Lian's supposed engagement mostly died down. Somehow or other word got out that Abi was a notorious troublemaker -- which was true -- and that led to the rumour that she'd probably eloped with Lian herself -- which was so far from the truth that Mirio found it a real struggle to keep a straight face. That rumour was widely believed in the court. Mirio almost felt sorry for Abi. Almost.

Tagging @whimsyqueen, @eccaiia, @verba-writing, @pandawriterstuff, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D New words: cat, crumble, crash and concern.

[a-master-procrastinator]

!!!

Didn't know you could talk to these guys in cutscenes (instead of them just saying a line when you click on them). This happens after winning the Great Hunt and before the ceremony. I escaped conversation with the Huntmaster just to run around, and apparently those guys have someone to say (nice stuff). Hearing that hunter who gave up on Dromund Kaas say that you inspired him and others gave me additional serotonin (I had some by simply replaying BH story bc I love it).

Anyway, I'll try to click on NPCs more often, bc they still have surprises.

Full lines under the cut (I didn’t take different options though).

[Q’kal: Looks like you made it, hunter. I’ll admit, I’m quite impressed.

Myk (Bounty Hunter): Have we met?

Q’Kal: Name’s Q’kal. I was one of the hunters in your group on Dromund Kaas, the one who dropped out. I regret that decision now.

Myk (BH): There’s always the next Great Hunt.

Q’kal: Yeah, next time I won’t leave.

Q’kal: You’ve been an inspiration to me. To quite a few hunters, actually.

Q’kal: It was an honor meeting you. A true honor.]

[Grataa: Congratulations, hunter. You’ve come a long way from your days on Hutta.

Myk (BH): Hey, the bone faced guy. Glad you made it.

Grataa: Yes, Grataa, the Great Hunt official. I’m pleased you remember me.

Grataa: I knew anyone Tarro Blood took an interest in was worth watching.

Grataa: You have earned this moment in the sun, hunter. The day is yours.]

[sardonic-the-writer]

━"Self Aware"

━Markiplier

━Tw: None

━Note: By (un)popular demand, here's the fic from the idea I had!

━Song: "Fallen Down" By Toby Fox

Mark bit his tounge in between his teeth lightly as he fiddled with his camera, the room behind him ready for recording.

It was late Sunday. The day had been long and the last thing anyone would want to do was stay up longer. And yet while everyone else was settling into bed with bleary eyes and a feeling of dread for the work day tomorrow, here sat Mark preparing to play some horror games.

After a few seconds of feeling around for buttons and lights the device was up and ready to go. The man sat back with a sigh and a smile, finally pressing record as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Hello everybody! My name is Markiplier and welcome to three. scary. games." He uttered the same sentence that he always began this series with, trusting Lixian to put in some scary effects towards the end of it later.

"Today were gonna starting out with 'Lonely Nights', a demo from some up and coming producers in the horror genre." Mark switched his attention to the game while doing his best to still speak close to the mic.

"A game in which you are home alone, defending yourself from the unknown." He read from the menu aloud. If Mark was being honest it sounded like any other game he had played for this video series. This just happened to be an experience he stumbled upon while searching Steam for some new content.

"Well-" The mouse clicked on the start button. "-let's get into it."

"Goddamn middle class family's and their goddamn middle class locks."

(Y/n) threw down the bobby pin, pissed as hell. The blisters lining the pads of their fingers made them wince slightly. They had forgotten their gloves at home. But it's not like the local police force around here checked for finger prints anyways. They were too busy sleeping at their desks to do any real work.

With a huff they rolled up the sleeves of the black hoodie they were wearing, already making their way around to a side fence and jumping it.

(Y/n) landed in the middle of an average suburban backyard. A rusty swing and thick oak tree was shoved against one side of the yard while a crusty sandbox lay on the other end, looking unused and worn from weather.

The scene reminded (Y/n) of the homes that they would pass on their way too and from school as a kid. They remembered looking in the windows of more fortunate family's, wincing at the way that they seemed to have everything handed to them on a silver platter whereas they were stuck with whatever they could gather.

Stealing from people wasn't exactly their first career choice growing up—in fact they had wanted to be a zombie killing ballerina—but when money got tight and rent too expensive, the art of knicking objects from middle class homes became second nature.

They never took anything that people would miss of course. Just small things like spare watches and food, maybe a twenty here and there.

Everytime they broke into a house, they told themself that it would be the last one. But eventually the bills would pile up again and they were back on a dark doorstep, lock pick in hand.

Making their way casually across the lawn as if they didn't just jump a metal fence into private property, (Y/n) went up to peek through one of the windows.

It was dark. As usual.

Sliding away from the glass pane, they thought they heard a sharp gasp from inside. Checking again, they didn't see anything.

Must have been the wind.

Grabbing the smooth doorknob of the nearby back door, they turned slowly to check.

"Huh. It's actually unlocked. That's a first." They mused to themself with a small smile. Anything to make this go faster they supposed.

Opening it with a creak, they stepped into the house.

Only to be met with a chair to the face.

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD." Mark shrieked, hand quickly darting up to fix the headphones that had falled down his neck ever so slightly.

"WHAT IN THE FUCKING SHITTY BITCH TIT BALLS WAS THAT."

He had been playing the game for a while. It had started out fairly mundane; introducing the plot (he was a teenager home alone while his parents were out on a trip), teaching him the controls (WASD to move and mouse to look around), as well as displaying a rather realistic looking setting. If Mark didn't know this was a video game he would have mistaken it for really grainy footage of a real house.

But true to the horror title, it had slowly began to freak out Mark. The rattling front door had been a cliche move, as had the dark face in the back window, but allowing his character to hit the home intruder in the face with a chair? That was new.

"What the hell man! What was that for?"

The usual pixilated subtitles popped up allowing for an easy read. Mark cracked a small smile at the response, finding it amusing. He liked the little detail of the voice being a bit off since they did just get smashed in the face with a chair.

He waited for his own character to spit some code encrypted dialog back at the home intruder, but when nothing happened he tried speaking out. As a joke of course. To keep the viewers entertained.

"Well I mean, you did you break into the house."

He was shocked when the games figure snorted back at him.

"Yeah, but shouldn't you like, call the cops or something? Hide under a bed? At least hit me with a baseball bat. But a wooden chair? Seriously man I think I have splinters up my nose now."

Mark was thoroughly stunned. Was this part of the game? I mean, it had seemed pretty advanced before, but he wasn't sure if voice activation had been invented into these types of things yet. And how did they know what to say in response to him? Wouldn't it just be limited to four generic answers or whatever?

"I'm just going to uh, leave." Mark heard after a stretch of silence, and he watched as the source of the voice slowly inched for the door.

"Wait! Uh, aren't you going to rob me? Scare me o-or something?"

They paused.

"Do you want me to?" They asked. Mark sat stunned as they listened to the genuine confusion in their voice.

Damn that was some good voice acting.

Out of all the houses (Y/n) had robbed, this was by far the strangest experience. And they had walked in on a dog humping a lamp before so that was saying something.

The person before them looked like he had just rushed out of bed. His hair was all pushed to one side like he had been sleeping on the right side of his face, and a polka dotted robe encased his figure. It was the bunny slippers that tied it all together in (Y/n)s opinion though. A real fashion forward guy.

"I mean, uh not really. No I don't want you to scare me." He croaked, answering their last question.

(Y/n) blinked.

"Then why in the hell did you basically ask me to."

They watched as he threw his hands in the air, a confused sound slipping from his lips.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do or something? Rattle a few doorknobs, make loud stomping sounds and then jump scare me!?"

"And why in the hell would I do that." They deadpanned back at him.

His jaw opened and closed like a gaping fish while they just quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah you're insane." (Y/n) said while picking at the hem of their hoodie nonchalauntly. "But I mean I guess I have to get used to people like you if I'm gonna do this for a living." They mumbled sourly. He let out a offended 'hey!' but they just continued to ignore them.

Shrugging, they decided to get out of there before he came to his wits and rushed to call the cops. Thank god they had remembered to flip their hoodie up so it shielded their face before walking on in. It didn't do anything to soften the blow of that chair though that's for sure.

"This is by far the weirdest game I've played in a while." (Y/n) heard the stranger say as they bolted out of their.

What a weird guy.

They liked him.

[usedpidemo]

Delete this.vol nine.

edited by @midnightdancingsol

“Hyewonnie?”

The last hour has been too much to take in. The whole ordeal with a crazed-out Miyawaki Sakura, then suddenly she’s dead. All because of a gunshot from Hyewon, your girlfriend. Complete and utter shock makes you forget that Yena and Eunbi are also there, standing inches behind her. They, too, can’t believe what just transpired. Their gazes shift back and forth between the unconscious body on the floor and your bound-up nakedness in a chair.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” she says regretfully, her grimace gradually fading to distress. “I didn’t realize in the heat of the moment—”

“Hyewonnie! He’s still tied there!” Yena snaps Hyewon out of remorse, which prompts her to drop the firearm and rush towards you. The others follow immediately without hesitation. Seconds later, you’re freed from your restraints.

“Dear Lord, you look like you got fucked up really bad.” Eunbi hands you a pair of pants from another person that you don’t notice.

“No shit,” you sneer at her while putting the trousers on. Your eyes scan Sakura’s lifeless body sprawled out on the floor. “I was seconds away from getting actually fucked too.”

“Yeah, we know. We heard everything,” Hyewon replies as she cups your face gently. A tender kiss on the cheek complemented with delicate rubs of her fingers. Just the soft touch you desperately need after all that madness. “At least you’re fine now, baby.”

“We still have to get out of here guys! Who knows how many guards are protecting this place!” Yena interrupts your moment together, her eyes scouring the massive mansion your ex-girlfriend owns. She leads the way, running out of the living room first, with Eunbi closely following along. You make haste, grabbing the shirt from the fourth person that barely registers in your head and trail the others in their escape.

The mysterious man grabs his gun on the floor as Hyewon makes to leave. “I was supposed to get the kill, geez.”

She blushes and giggles in response to his snarky comment. “Sorry. This means a lot more to me than it does to you.”

———

Sakura’s mansion wasn’t difficult to figure out. Two flights of stairs later, your team manages to exit the front door and into the driveway. Surprisingly, there was no surveillance. No patrolling guards, no hounds, nothing. Four colorful vehicles just so happen to be parked nearby.

“Someone’s got an affinity for Mercedes,” Eunbi says as four pairs of widened eyes ogle at her little car collection. “Which one do you guys want to take?”

“Normally I’d say all of them, but how about this one?,” you say, pointing to a black sedan—the only one with four-doors—the S 65 AMG. The mysterious person tosses the keys at you, which you fail to catch as it ends up on the gravel.

“You shouldn’t drive. You're not in good shape and we have to hurry.” Yena states the obvious, which you nod in agreement with. You pick up the keys then pass them to Hyewon. She then hands it over to Eunbi, who happily accepts it. Upon receiving them she quickly unlocks the doors and steps inside the driver’s seat. Your eyes focus on the mysterious person, who’s dashed off into the nearby forest. Before you can get an idea of who he is, a loud engine rev calls your attention.

“Who was that?” you ask, eyes still fixated on the vast greenery, wondering who that person was and why he helped you and the women out.

“No time! Hop in!” Hyewon grabs you by the arm as you follow along and climb into the backseat.

Once everyone is settled inside the expensive performance machine, a wide grin of excitement forms on Eunbi’s face. More thunderous revs as the vehicle’s powerful engine screams. She turns a few knobs and presses some switches, something that seems like a complete time waster.

“I’ve been dying to do this since they did it in the movies,” she says confidently, pumping out a few more loud revs from the luxurious sedan. She’s met with a shared scream of disgruntlement from the other women.

“Just drive already!”

Eunbi rolls her eyes at the response and sighs. “You guys are no fun at all.”

Blunt comments out of the way, the car blazes away from Sakura’s full-time mansion and part-time prison. The rocky surface stretches on for five kilometres, making the drive slower than it should be. You eventually reach smooth tarmac and one right turn later, the car does its thing: accelerate and go fast.

Despite being only two lanes, the roads are wide open for speeding, since not much is going the opposite way. The drive isn’t as eventful as it was intense. A vast, awkward silence fills out the car. Not a single word was said since the journey started, which makes sense—it’s been a long day for everyone involved, including you.

You gaze at her while she looks out the window. Sometimes you wish you could read her mind. The weary look in her eyes—a brief pause from the adrenaline of the last hour—tells you how taxed she was. Neither you nor her expected to pull the trigger, yet that’s exactly what happened: blood shed on her hands.

And what about the others? Innocent Choi Yena got dragged into the mess that is your personal life, but she seems determined to follow you to the ends of the earth. She’s had quite an eventful week. At the very least, Eunbi seems to be unfazed by everything that’s going on, so there isn’t much for you to worry about concerning her.

Your hand crawls slowly towards Hyewon, but as it inches closer your hesitation grows. Fear overtakes you; what if she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings?

Some words are better left unsaid, after all.

With a quiet, wistful sigh, you withdraw your arm and look the other way as a downcast frown forms on your face.

———

Yena is unable to keep herself calm—the restless look in her eyes while she watches the road ahead says so. While everyone else is tranquil, she quivers in her seat, uneasy and panicky. Not a soul urges her to relax, which amplifies her dread. Her fingers claw on the expensive, tailor-made leather seat, but it doesn’t help one bit.

She sees a rapidly approaching object in the distance from the side mirror, which breaks the awkward silence. “Oh my God!”

All eyes are on her as she covers her mouth in shame after screaming her lungs out. Confusion arises and questions are raised, with no conclusive final answer. “What’s going on? Yena? What’s happening?”

The growing crescendo of mixed voices overwhelms Yena, whose view is still glued to the side mirror while she curls up in her seat. She’s terrified, petrified, just about any word relating to fear you can think of. In the midst of all the commotion, you look out the window and discover a flying saucer pursuing you several kilometers behind.

“Shit.” You furiously grab and shake both of Eunbi’s shoulders, urging her to speed up. “Must go faster, must go faster!”

Even though she pushes her foot down hard on the pedal—the speedometer showing 155 kilometres per hour—it can’t go any quicker. Every single one of Sakura’s vehicles has a speed limiter digitally coded on them. The glider zigzags several miles behind you, relentless in its pursuit of the stolen vehicle.

As you continue to watch the flying object chase you on the highway, you see a tiny ball drop from where it hovers. It crashes onto the pavement then explodes several feet behind you, catching everyone’s attention.

“Holy fuck!” You scream as the pursuit develops. You and Hyewon can’t look away at the incoming downpour of destruction.

Somehow the radio finds a way to poke fun at the situation. Lyrics of a familiar song blast through the massive speakers on the door sides:

I’m the biggest hit, I’m the biggest hit on the stage

Eunbi forcefully shuts the stereo off with a punch. There’s an irksome look on her face due to the unfortunate coincidence of it all. Another bomb drops from the sky to cause another blast of similar radius. Fortunately it won’t slow you down as the ceaseless straight highway stretches into the distance.

The glider eventually closes in on you. Sharp titanium spears extend from the front, providing it with ripping power. As if that wasn’t enough to terrify you, it overtakes you from above, slashing parts of the roof off as it flies ahead of your car.

Panicked profanities reverberate throughout the interior. Eunbi remains unfazed through the uproar and powers on without hesitation. Having overtaken you at this point the glider drops another one of its cherry bombs. Recognizing this, she swerves and the car scrapes by the immediate detonation.

Pink rain falls from the sky. A barrage of bombs plummets in all directions, causing smaller but more consistent explosions on the road. Eunbi, the skillful driver she is, manages to weave around each boom and bang while keeping the vehicle as safe as possible. A valiant effort, but it’s all for naught when the glider decides to dive towards it at a blistering speed.

Instinctively she steers harshly, but it ends up nearly impaling you when the blades nearly swipe at your neck and your whole life flashes right before your eyes. The edges slashes off the backseat’s roof while the car ends up on its side on the road. Terror drowns out the background. You remain frozen like a stone while Hyewon tries to shake you out of your daze.

Either way, it’s too late. Like a vulture scavenging for food, the glider circles around you high up in the air. Unbuckle your seatbelt then step out the door whilst ignoring everyone’s pleas. You knew this was on you, and no one else has to get involved.

“This isn’t on them!” You scream towards the glider to call its attention some more. It seems to hear you, descending back to the ground until it hovers a few feet above the soil. The helmet retracts to reveal a clearly disheveled Sakura, sporting military-grade armor. She laughs callously while shaking her head. Everything about her is broken and corrupted.

“You’re right,” she snarls aggressively, her frightening stare shifting between you and the women. “But what I’m gonna do isn’t on you, either.”

Before you could speak another word, Sakura flies directly towards the damaged vehicle and grabs Hyewon by the neck. The others, paralyzed by fear, can do nothing except scream at the top of their lungs. She takes your girlfriend with her back to the skies while you run after them on the ground in vain. You watch helplessly as the glider slowly disappears into the distance.

A loud rev catches your attention. From the blur, a grey two- door Bugatti Chiron blows by yours until the lights come on, the car coming to a full stop.

“No time! Just get on!” A shout echoes from the new sight, which you comply with. You barely settle inside when it begins accelerating again at an exponentially faster speed than your escape car.

Despite the twisty winding roads up the mountain, he’s able to maintain high speeds around the tight corners. There’s so many questions you want to ask him, but given the gravity of the situation, it’d be wise to shut up and let him drive. Eventually you’re able to spot the saucer from afar, which has since slowed down considerably.

“Open the glove box.” The man commands. Inside is what appears to be a cannon the size of a semi-automatic weapon, which you grab. After you do, he opens your side of the window, wind blowing dust into your eyes that you scratch away.

“We only have one chance at this. Are you ready?” he asks, but you’re unsure whether you want to take the shot or not.

“I don’t know!” you shout in return. You’re afraid that you might possibly miss or even worse, shoot Hyewon by accident.

“Do you want to save her or not?” Is what pushes you to embolden yourself. As you decide to take the biggest shot of your life, you nod and cock the gun. The car revs as it passes the glider by a few meters, enough space to aim and shoot.

“On my signal, fire at the glider,” he says. A bead of sweat drips down your face. With gritted teeth and steely eyes, you lock in the weapon. It’s now or never.

“One.

“Two.

“Three!”

In the seconds before you shoot, time seems to freeze. No inner voice to tell you to use the Force. No flashbacks of a training montage. Only your willpower and determination. The world around you goes blank as your fingers pull the trigger. Your eyes shut involuntarily after the shot.

Bang.

Pitch black smoke spews everywhere from the glider, darkening the sky. It begins to descend under its fumes. The car steers right, away from the main road and into the lush woods to track where its eventual landing spot is.

Finally, you can breathe a sigh of relief. For now.

“That was a great shot,” the man says while patting you on the shoulder. A well deserved compliment. “You’ve been an invaluable help to us.”

“Us?” You raise an eyebrow, curious as to who these others are. He’d been alone on this mission the whole time.

Before you could get more information from him, the vehicle approaches a cliffside where Sakura and Hyewon have landed. Fumes envelop them both, which you can barely see through. You and the man get out of his car, the man pulling out his own pistol.

“Miyawaki Sakura, on behalf of MI7, you’re under arrest.” He directs his firearm towards her head. Unable to retaliate, she raises her arms in surrender. From the smoke Hyewon emerges running with wide open arms. She can’t keep her tears any longer and neither can you. You run to her until you’re together again in a deep embrace, safe and sound.

———

All you wanted was for everything to return to normal. Life goes on.

But not for you and Hyewon.

Instead of sleeping in a comfy bed, you’ve been kept inside an interrogation room for three days. Occasionally, the agent would step inside to provide food and drink for you two three times a day. He was also kind enough to give you both new clothes as well. Regardless, you were exhausted and wanted to be anywhere else but there and so was she.

Whenever you tried to question him what was happening or why you were being held, he’d brush off your questions.

Hyewon would often hold your hand as your patience was tested. Soft, warm smiles reassured you that all would be well after this.

A sharp siren means the agent’s coming inside. He walks in, foldable chair in hand, and places it opposite your side of the table before he sits down.

“Right. First and foremost, I’d like to say again my personal thanks to you and on behalf of MI7 for helping us take down Miyawaki Sakura,” he says as he looks at you. “We’ve been on her trail for years. Thanks to recorded exchanges between her and her hired hitmen, we’ve finally been able to track her down and finally accuse her with substantial evidence. None of this would be possible without you.”

No shit. She forced herself onto you and nearly killed your girlfriend, you thought.

You roll your eyes and divert your gaze away from him. “You had to wait until the last minute, right as she was ready to fuck me with a dildo.”

Hyewon quietly giggles at your sarcastic reply and delivery.

“My bad. At least it wasn’t after,” he rebutts matter-of-factly before returning to a more professional infelction. You weren’t sure which pissed you off more: the tone or the joke itself. “Now let’s get right to the matter at hand.

“Now you might be asking why we’ve been tracking her for some time,” he continues while he pulls out a folder from his coat. “Her wealth is not her own. She’s being funded by a higher power that we believe is working behind the curtains.”

Look through the documents and personal effects. There’s loads of Japanese scribbled on her bank checks and business contracts, as well as signatures that you can’t recognize. On the right side of each paper, however, is a constant moon stamp.

“They have many faces across the world. To keep a low profile, they run a philanthropic organization. However, there’s sufficient evidence that they possess illegal technology, print fake money, and have people installed across every government level of most sovereign nations.”

Each detail sounds more and more ridiculous with every new addendum. You wish you could turn off your brain while listening to him discuss top secret information straight out of a spy movie. Hyewon’s eyes glimmer with the prospect of adventure, but they dull when she sees how mentally finished you are with everything.

“So, why are you telling us this then?” you break your silence, wondering what’s your part in any of this.

“You’ve definitely caught their attention now.” the agent pushes his tinted shades back. “Sakura was a partner of this shadow organization, and with her arrest, there’s a good chance you’ll be marked until you’ve been exterminated. They’ll send who knows how many men to take you out. They have the resources to torment you your whole lives.

“With that in mind, if you join us, we’ll put you under our security until they’ve been taken down for good.”

You’ve heard worse. Your ex-girlfriend was dropping bombs and flying on gliders, for God’s sake.

“We will release you after this discussion. But please consider your options as you leave the room.”

The agent takes the documents and returns them to his coat. He then rises and grabs his chair before leaving the room, giving you two a time to talk things through.

Sigh. Turn to face Hyewon, who looks at you with deep concern. She intertwines her fingers with yours then lightly kisses your temple. As crazy as it sounds, this agent might be right. Normalcy feels like the lesser decision for you both. Perhaps it’s recent trauma from what you’ve witnessed, but after a big scare like that, it fills you with uncertainty for the future.

“Hey. If we’re doing this, we’ll do it together.” she whispers with her soft voice. You’re amazed she’s still optimistic despite the near-death experience she went through.

“I don’t know, Hyem. Everything feels like it’s too much to take in. I mean—”

A kiss on the lips to shut you up. Her smile tells you to calm down. Gentle hands trail up to your cheeks and pinch them, red as the sun. Hyewon knows what you need to think rationally again.

“Nothing’s gonna change my mind, I’d rather just be normal again,” you say as you look down to the ground. Another sigh.

“I understand. Me too.”

A siren interrupts your moment together, followed by an echoed voice from the speakers. “You may go now.”

The agent quietly follows the two of you while you exit the police station. A silver Mercedes is parked outside awaiting you both. Hyewon wastes no time to enter the vehicle, eager to head home. Your steps are smaller as an internal conflict in your head lingers within your thoughts.

Maybe this espionage schtick is what’s needed to protect her.

“Have you thought about it?” the agent asks, which draws your attention to him.

“Yeah.” Turn around to face him with a poker face. “This spy shit doesn’t sound good to me. I’m happy to have helped you guys out, but that’s all I can do.”

“Fair enough.” he says before walking towards you then patting you on the shoulder. He secretly slips in a tiny card inside your pants pocket. “But if you ever change your mind, feel free to call me.”

You nod with a subtle but friendly grin before the car’s loud horn calls you to leave. As you enter the backseat to join your girlfriend, your eyes turn back to the agent who waves farewell, which you reciprocate.

“I’m so fucking exhausted,” you say while turning to Hyewon. “I’m glad all that shit is finally over.”

“Celebration?” she asks with a fire in her eyes, one that you haven’t seen in a while. You knew what that meant.

Loud, impassioned kisses are the first course of action you make when you both enter her house. Between torrid smooches on her perfect face and soft neck you wrestle with the zipper on her black top, a difficult but rewarding struggle when it comes undone. A black bra holds her shapely cleavage together. In your arms her breasts feel like the most valuable possession ever held. Hyewon seductively whimpers in your neck, her steamy breath arousing you even more.

Her fingers tug against your shirt, desperate to undress you in return. You take the hint and allow her to lift the top over your head. Immediately after you pounce on her sexy body, forcefully pinning her against the wall, kissing down her chest and toned belly. Not even the harsh yank of your hair holds you back from worshipping your true goddess. She throws her head back, suddenly numb to pain as pleasure courses through her veins, even as she bumps the stiff partition.

High-pitched whines echo around the house when you slip your own digits between her skirt, infiltrating her underwear and slit. Nails dig deep into your nape and ruffled hair, just as she liked you, needy to hold you closer than ever before. One hand slides her restrictive clothes down her thighs, the other active in poking her sensitive nub. Push your index finger inside her a little more, earn louder worthwhile moans of your name from her breath. She’s a shaky, uncontrollable mess; her screams tell the entire neighborhood how well you stroke and pleasure her.

More.

That’s all she could ever say. And you’d happily comply. Not that you needed any motivation; her erotic noises were already enough, and so were the lustful thoughts you had of her when she sported that outfit in the interrogation room. With those nasty notions in mind, you continue to rub against her soaked clit. You don’t allow her to breathe—only take in a continuous overflow of lewd bliss.

Eventually her body fully gives in. A wave of her slick gushes out to drench your tireless fingers. Somewhere in between, her grip switches from your head to the walls; a useless attempt to keep herself from quivering madly. Like the way you pleasured her, the rain seemingly never ends. She’s so wet, deprived, and aching for you to delight and enrapture her body.

Release your grip from her cunt and taste your moist digit. Delicious.

Despite the unbearable climax, Hyewon is able to pull herself together to bring you to her level. She looks at you with half-lidded eyes filled with unquenchable desire. That’s how much she truly missed these intimate moments with you. Bright twinkles shine from her gaze, the sun setting down as well as the mood. You’re enamoured with her seductive stare that her twitchy hands sneakily work to strip your pants and boxers off. Her eyes go shut when she feels your hard shaft spring against her sensitive groin.

She lets another yelp out as you sweep her off her feet. Wrap her meaty thighs around your waist then kiss her again. You let her slit suddenly dive towards your cock, impaling yourself inside her warmth. Her nails claw your shoulders, her passionate gaze never leaving yours. One step up the staircase, you pound. Another stride, another thrust. As wobbly as you pump her, you make sure her tight, velvety walls are filled with as much of your dick as possible.

You barge into her bedroom, Hyewon still in your tight embrace, with a loud crash. Again you pin her against the wall, her wild, frantic screams piercing your ears. She’ll never let up. Neither will you.

You lose any semblance of control and finally lose yourself to primal urges. Disregard both your comfort and hers to fuck her hard. She mewls, whimpers, and twists her figure as you repeatedly impale her, fast and forceful. Wet thwacks of flesh combined with her sultry moans make a melodic song that puts you in a deeper trance. Only your inevitable end awaits.

Try as you might to prolong this heavenly, pleasant sensation, you’ll eventually reach it. To keep yourself away from the edge, you crash your lips with hers, but it only speeds up your climax. A few more powerful thrusts until you finally go blank. Eyes shut, you let your body do the rest. Groaning against her neck, you fire a huge blast of thick seed inside her womb. Your grip on her loosens. For a moment, your body forgets how to act on its own, focused on the sweet release of filling her with your cum.

Her feet delicately touch the ground while your hands can’t seem to let go of her. This gives her an opportunity to retaliate by pushing you onto the bed. It’s far too soon in the night to black out, but with an orgasm that powerful, how can you not? First wave unloaded on her, but she’s still hungry for more.

She lightly pecks you on the temple. Your favorite gentle kiss. From here, it’s Hyewon’s turn.

Cock in her hand, she pumps you back to full hardness as fast as you go soft. Still plenty to fill her with. Seeing your shaft erect for her, she flashes a wicked smirk. At least you thought she did, considering you can barely open your eyes. She won’t give you the chance to see her grin in full quality when she pivots her figure around that her back and ass is facing you instead.

Her hands grip onto your thighs. Even through dodgy vision, you can see her narrow lips, ready for a deep penetration. She steadily lowers herself onto you, each second of waiting an agonizing one. Collective grunts from you both break the temporary silence as your cock fills her ass with its girth. Your dick puppets her shapely, sexy body with involuntary yet powerful thrusts.

More or less it’s the same as when you fucked her pussy. She screams from the top of her lungs, moans, and occasionally swears. Her voice box must be made of iron with the way it never breaks. She throws her head back once more and arches her back on air. You lay idly, leisurely pumping her. A perfect view that required only minimal effort to get.

If there’s anything Hyewon wants, it’s every last drop milked from you. Severe pain in the ass be damned.

Only a few minutes later, you orgasm again. Her moan is a lot more controlled, her hands brace firmer on your legs to keep herself from collapsing. White drips from her sensitive side and onto the sheets. She gingerly rises to release your dick, still clutching on your thighs as sticky slick comes off between you two. Once it’s completely free, she gives in to her exhaustion and crashes on you with a mild thump.

The last conscious thing you feel is her light peck on your neck. Her arms wrap around you as you both finally sleep comfortably.

Running water is the first thing you hear when you regain consciousness.

1:21 a.m. flashes brightly on the digital wall clock. Hyewon is no longer by your side, but you knew where she was based on the sounds you could discern. The small, glossy prints on the floor give clear hints as well.

Quietly you rise from the bed and follow the path straight to the shower. She doesn’t react when you bluntly open the door nor does she answer when you slide the panel. This time you’re the clingy one, wrapping your arms around her from behind. Both of you let the warm water freely flow through you, having a quiet but intimate moment after the steamy session.

These personal moments are better than sex. Sure, the fucking was great and all, but these brief minutes—minutes where you both cherish each other’s presence—showed how much you love her. Not because of a chance encounter, but because you've grown attached to her that you can’t imagine another person in your life that’d have this profound of an impact on you. For better or for worse.

You weren’t sure if Hyewon shared these sentiments too, especially as afterward she leads you back to her bed for another round of mindless, passionate fucking, but for now, as long as you two were together, safe and sound, all is right in the world. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———

A private jet flies across the open skies. Through sliding doors the agent directly involved with Miyawaki Sakura’s arrest moves from one quarter to the next. He pulls his phone out while he walks then takes a seat in one of the many luxurious seats.

“Well, we couldn’t get our witness to help, which is a shame, but I understand not wanting to participate in high stakes espionage.” he talks directly to his phone, the receiver an anonymous number.

“Great job with the arrest. Assisted or not, you will be credited for all the hard work.” A female voice answers him back matter-of-factly.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Mexico City. Your next target will be there.” A photo of an older man with glasses flashes on his phone. “He’s one of Sakura’s first business partners, maybe we’ll get more key information on this organization.”

“Understood, Captain.”

“What did I say about my title?” Her voice roughens upon hearing her inferior address her incorrectly.

“Sorry, I meant Director. Understood, Director Lee.”

“One of these days you’ll personally receive a punishment from me, and you won’t like it.”

“Looking forward to it.” He answers sarcastically with a light cackle before ending the call. “See you soon, Director Saerom.”

(A/N: With that, the first season is completed! I never thought I'd somehow make a plot out of a box of scraps, but here we are. Honestly, it felt like throwing darts to see which one sticks. I'll definitely revisit it, but for now, I thought it'd be nice to have a satisfying conclusion should the worst end up happening and not end on a cliffhanger. And yes, I'm looking to expand this universe a little more, as with that little credits scene, but you'll have to wait!

It's insane how a random series of quickies ended up as one of my essentials in my masterlist, which is wild in itself. I can't thank you all enough for the continued support.)

[chaoticgeminate]

You're so Classic (ii)

Summary: When you own a diner there are a variety of people that come to get a seat, Zach has become familiar with the constant and changing guests that come in through those doors. The good, the bad, and the ugly all with their own stories and their own lives. He’s witnessed first dates, last dates, engagements, anniversaries, job gains or losses, and birthdays galore.

Enter Nanette Dougherty.

Former pageant child, debutante, and swimsuit model fresh off a bad date and needing to be somewhere that her roommates and agent won’t try to find her. Where better than a diner full of things she’s never allowed to eat? What Nanette never counted on was the handsome diner owner to change her life.

Pairing: Zach Wellison x Nanette Rose Dougherty [ofc]

Rating: Explicit (Blog is 18+ regardless but this is going to be a bit of a heavy story)

Notes and Warnings: Series will involve some heavy topics including but not limited to body dysmorphic disorder (BDD), eating disorders, body acceptance, PTSD, anger problems, toxic narcissistic parents, and abusive relationships both platonic and romantic. This installment includes dub-con and lightly described smut. Beta read by the beautiful, lovely, amazing @leslie-lyman 💙

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Peach Pie (5k)

Was there a single word to describe this feeling? This sensation of lingering on the edge of what could be something incredible or something disappointing? If there was it wasn’t a word that Zach knew, not that literature was even his strong suit anyway, but his entire being was coursing with an anxious sort of energy. He knew that no matter what happened he could at least rest knowing he had tried, that he’d put himself out there, which was the most important thing.

Would it hurt if she wasn’t actually interested him? Or if she decided against giving someone like him a chance? Yes, it would hurt; while he wasn’t exactly as arrogant to think himself the hottest catch like some military and former military he knew believed, he wasn’t devoid of pride. Zach liked to think he was attractive enough, that he was a good person and would make a good partner for someone.

One thing about the diner was that with the constant fluctuation of the crowd, the constant need for clean dishes or to help get orders prepped and out of the kitchen, he didn’t have time to sit and linger with his phone in hand. No time to stare longingly at his cellphone and look for an unknown number texting him or calling him, to wonder if maybe he’d made a mistake. It was a constant in the back of his mind though, unable to keep his mind away from what her response could be.

What could he even offer her that she would find appealing? Realistically he was just a veteran who owned a diner, he wasn’t rich enough to take her to upscale eateries or buy her expensive things, so the most he could give her would be experiences and loyalty. Was that enough? Would something that little in a life like hers be enough to earn a chance? If her life was that glamorous, he supposed, since he hadn’t confirmed what it was she even did yet.

“Boss, I think the lettuce is clean.” Ramirez sounded amused as Zach sputtered a little in surprise while pulling up the bin for the lettuce to allow it to drain, face warming in response to getting caught zoning out. A nudge from the other man had Zach exhaling but even Akenlolu was wearing a look of sympathy, not mocking, and he found himself smiling at the two of them in gratitude.

By the time he was able to leave for the night -with both Jones and Burk coming in to pick up an extra shift- Zach was not only exhausted but scrambling to check his phone, teeth worrying his lower lip as he pressed the button to unlock the touch screen, and the little text icon lit up on his lock screen set his heart into overdrive. Unlocking the device and tapping the little speech bubble icon felt like it took an eternity but his hands were shaking, sweating even, and Zach sank into the office chair with relief.

Hi Zach, this is Nanette from the diner. I’d like to come back but when you have time to sit with me if that’s okay?

Nodding as if she’d see it, the motion more of a subconscious thing, he began replying before his nerves could stop him from doing so. Autocorrect was a beautiful thing as it translated all the mistakes he was making, he didn’t really like to text but his speech-to-text was pretty finicky too.

Can you come by in two days? I’m off for the day, we could meet here and I’ll pack something up so we could have a picnic?

Before he could put his phone away he spied the indication that Nanette was replying to his message and his chest swelled at the idea that she’d been waiting for his answer.

That sounds lovely, Zach, I can be at the diner around one? That will give me time to shower after my workout.

If you check the website, I have the menu uploaded, you can tell me what you’d like to eat and I’ll get it packed up and ready.

Zach put his things away, deciding to leave before he spent all night in the diner, and he ignored the chuckles from the night crew as he exited through the back. A low chime alerted him to a response and as he got in the car he bit his lip, considering just replying with a thumbs up, but that felt too impersonal. But a heart felt like way too much.

I’ll have it ready. I have to drive so I can’t text but would you like to talk? I have Bluetooth in my car.

He winced immediately after sending that, almost every car had Bluetooth now, and he felt like that definitely made him look either more broke than he was or older than he was and that self-doubt lurking in the darker corners of his mind began to make its presence known. It was definitely something to bring up with Marcy, his therapist was truly a saint of a woman with how she’d handled him when he had thought his need for therapy wasn’t so bad.

I’d love to, as long as it won’t distract you from driving, Zach ;)

Relief flooded him at the very relaxed, teasing, reply she sent as he hooked his phone up to his car; but today instead of music he used the hands-free calling feature. The soft ring of the phone lasted only twice before it connected and his face flushed as he heard the exhale and a bit of a grunt on the other end. His mind and body were definitely diving right into the gutter and the soft exhale made his heart jump.

“Sorry about that Zach, I had to get my headphones because my roommate will eavesdrop if I don’t.”

“No need to apologize, Nanette. I’ll be in the car for a little bit.”

“Oh, you have a long drive to work?”

“Depending on when I leave it can be good or bad, luckily today the traffic doesn’t seem too bad.”

“That’s good, I’ve gotten into the habit of walking wherever I can because of how traffic can be.”

“If I didn’t have to sometimes pick people up on the way in then I might walk more.”

He was feeling really lucky over the traffic at the moment, it wasn’t horrendous at all to his delight, and Zach made sure his attention didn’t drift too far from the road.

“You’re a good man, for doing that Zach, most places would just tell people to hop a cab or figure it out.”

“Well some of the people I hire are disabled veterans and it’s easier on them if I just come to get them, plus it means someone else can use that seat on the bus or trolley if I just go get them.”

“That’s really sweet of you, you’re probably a lovely boss then too. Walking everywhere helps keep me out of the gym so much and as much as I don’t mind yoga and spin classes with my trainer, well, I would much rather be out enjoying the day where I can.”

Zach hummed gently now that they were broaching the territory of work, he wanted to ask what she did but he didn’t want to risk being rude about it either. He’d already been quick to judge her before and while he didn’t want to do that again he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of worry that he’d somehow offend her.

“Then I know just the place to go for a picnic, since it’s in walking distance of the diner and the crowds aren’t usually too bad. Is there anything I need to know when it comes to your order? Allergies, intolerances?” He wanted to segue away from work for now, since it was a topic he wasn’t personally ready to address yet, and on the other line he heard a soft hum from Nanette along with the sound of nails tapping away at a keyboard.

“No allergies, no intolerances. I do have to make sure I limit my caloric intake though so I think something lighter and fresh would be better for me if that’s okay? I have a week break from photo shoots but I shouldn’t have something overly indulgent twice. Otherwise Louis, my trainer, might put me on a liquid menu.”

Model then, based on her comment about photo shoots, and Zach felt that rising concern begin since he only heard some really worrying stories about models. He heard all about restricted meals, bad tempers, unhealthy relationships with food… and while Nanette didn’t seem to have gotten quite that far he really couldn’t stop his brain from thinking about her starving on some set.

“I can do that, Nanette, just let me know what you think you want. I know Burk, one of the guys on nights, began doing calorie information on the website for everything so it should all be there but if you have questions he and I can figure it out together.”

“That’s sweet of you, thank you so much. I’m excited to spend more time with you, when you aren’t serving customers or cooking Zach.”

A warmth burned in his chest, the fact that she wanted to spend time with him was both exciting and baffling, but he decided that he was going to roll with it and see where this thing went. As long as he went in with an open mind, open heart, and understanding he was sure he could handle Nanette’s lifestyle.

It was unfortunately the same routine, over and over, but Nanette had gotten used to the ebb and flow of her lifestyle and how it worked around Francesca’s. After getting back from the diner her cranky roommate had barely uttered an apology, pouting as she watched some show on the couch, and that had been a sign for Nanette to retreat in self-defense. By the time she got off the phone with Zach she’d been buzzing with energy, both from the meal and her excitement over what sounded like a date, so she’d reached out to Louis dutifully.

He couldn’t get that mad if she told him right away, he’d always been pretty lenient.

While her trainer had been a little dramatic with his groaning and complaining about adding more time in the gym for her -which meant more work for him- he had actually told her he was happy to hear that she’d eaten something other than salad and seafood. Which was, honestly, probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said about when she had more indulgent food. Nanette was more used to her mother and step-father’s nuclear reactions when they found out she had something outside her restricted food allowances.

Louis had her come to the gym, putting her through a workout that was just a bit more taxing than the usual, but Nanette honestly felt incredible even after she was left red-faced and sweating with a burn in her glutes and quads. That good mood she was in carried over to a phone call from Camille, inviting her out to their usual club, and Nanette couldn’t contain her excitement as she shimmied into a sleek Michael Kors dress that Camille had given her two days ago after getting it from a shoot.

Being a ruched body-con dress Nanette found herself studying her reflection, opting for a thong and strapless bra to avoid lines, and with it being late summer she didn’t grab any jacket or cover up tonight. Simple liner and demure shadow paired with a nice mascara made her eyes pop without looking too overdone, making her red lipstick the center of the show, and black Louis Vuitton pumps pulled the look together. The dress was black but under the top layer of ruched fabric was a black fabric with patches of red sequins that only made themselves known when the light hit them at the right angle.

Nanette grabbed a small bag and was out the door before Francesca could even ask where she was going, not wanting her roommate to try and give her any kind of an attitude or smart remark about going out with friends, and Camille’s sleek blue Camaro rolled up barely minutes later.

“Looking good, Nettie, let’s get our party on!”

“Hey girl! I told Melinda to give you that dress, it looks so good!”

“Bitch, can you not look so fine every time I see you? I’m straight!”

Enthusiastic greetings from Camille, Shaye, and Melinda had her laughing as she slid into the back seat of the car and they set out. Camille was their usual designated, as a child of two addicts she’d decided to just not take any chances, and she was also the only one with a car between them all since they generally worked on most shoots together. Nanette wanted to tell them about Zach, the news on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself from doing so right now.

As much as she wanted to tell her friends, who had been outraged by Leon’s remarks about her and threatened to blacklist him from every social place in LA, she also wanted to keep this to herself for just a little bit.

They would only want to know if it does become serious anyway.

Walking up to the door and greeting Jade, the bouncer was the one they were the most familiar with and she was a gorgeous woman with the brightest smile, all of the models ignored the slight whining from the people in line that watched them walk into the club. It was part of the way the city worked, Delany’s agency had a deal with most bars and lounges in the area that the models and minor actors and actresses were allowed priority as long as they didn’t cause trouble, and they did use that privilege.

Nanette grabbed drinks and joined the girls at one of the standing tables, passing around glasses mindful of everyone’s preferences, and Camille launched into a story about her current fling Adrien and how he tried to tell her that she was too heavy for his preferences when she’d asked why he wasn’t taking her on dates.

“I’m sorry he said you’re… too heavy for him? Girl, he was hardly a catch anyway and I was convinced the only reason you were with him was that the sex was good.” Melinda’s remark earned a sigh from Camille as she shrugged, leading Shaye to let out a sound of near outrage.

“Girl no, if he can’t even make the sex good he’s not worth your time.”

Nanette chewed the inside of her cheek a little as the topic turned to past lovers, she wasn’t a blushing virgin by any stretch of the means but she hardly understood the obsession with it, her own experiences were never really worth talking about. Thankfully it was easy enough to lie and say she had a good time with the men -and women- she’d spent nights with, even if she was left with nothing but an ache and discomfort for a few days after, but she was more than aware that she couldn’t exactly be known as a bad lay.

The agency didn’t really advertise it, not that there even was a reason to do so, but every model and aspiring actor or actress would rate their bedfellows and Nanette was -thankfully- high on the list. People higher on the list got better work prospects, were introduced to industry leaders, and just treated better in general. It wasn’t something super official by the agency, more often worded in ways to ask if your partner respected your consent or was flexible with your situation whether it was a model on a deficit or needing to avoid marks, but it was still there.

“Hey, come on, we’re gonna dance.” Nanette nodded when Shaye gripped her elbow so that they didn’t realize she’d zoned out and the girls slipped out onto the dance floor, her phone and bag checked in at the coat check so she didn’t have that distraction either or the ability to worry about calls from Francesca, and the four women stayed together for a large portion of the night dancing and shouting encouragement at one another.

It was much later in the night, a few drinks deep, when Shaye nudged her.

“Hey, Nettie, there’s a really hot guy at the bar checking you out.” Nanette only gave the man a cursory look, not really interested in going home with someone tonight, and while he was good looking she could tell from here that he had some major asshole energy. But before she could come up with a reason to avoid it, to not go talk to the man, her friends were eagerly telling her to go for it and reminding her that she ‘couldn’t wallow over Leon forever’ and Nanette bit back a reply as she considered that she really didn’t know for sure if she had a date on the way or not.

Zach hadn’t said it was a date.

It’s not even like they were a couple, so it wouldn’t hurt to just get this over with so that the others stayed off her back.

If Zach wanted something serious she would find out, and then this could be avoided later.

Nanette made sure to take an extra shot first before slinking her way over, the man’s eyes on her the entire time, and his lips curled into a smile as he set his empty cup down to face her properly.

“A beauty like you hardly looks like she needed liquid courage to come talk to someone like me. I’m Owen.” He was taller with tanned skin and light hair, definitely a gym rat if the defined musculature was a sign, and Nanette ignored the rising feelings of discomfort and unease as she faked a giggle at the corny remark.

Lying to save his ego and avoid a possible temper tantrum would be the only way to make this remotely salvageable, it would be fine.

“You’re good looking, don’t sell yourself short, I wouldn’t have come over if you weren’t my type.” The light touch on his forearm and the playful smile, keeping her head tilted just so with her chest pushed out, all of it was the right moves that had Owen eating out of the palm of her hand as she let him tell her about his work at a local car dealership that was ‘just a temp thing’ and fought down the desire to just walk away from him completely. It took a few minutes for the shot to kick in, to fully dampen her nerves, and Nanette grabbed her bag as Owen led her out of the club.

He was handsy in the car, playing with her bare thigh, and Nanette fell into him when they reached his room with a soft crooning whine that made Owen chuckle and pull her close. His arms felt too restricting but she kissed him anyway, the whiskey kiss sloppy and hardly enjoyable, and when Owen insisted on going down on her Nanette wasn’t at all surprised to find that he was clumsy and eager and that she had to fake an orgasm to get him to stop trying.

“So fuckin pretty.”

“So tight, I’m gonna wreck this pretty pussy.”

Another liar.

Owen’s whispered promises weren’t enough to make her eager as he slipped a condom on, it was a painful stretch and she had to bite the inside of her cheek hard when he didn’t even try to give her any adjustment time, and she gripped his biceps while squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. He mistook the sounds of discomfort for enjoyment, which was fine, and Nanette couldn’t have been more glad when he shuddered and rocked his hips slower before he was pulling out and laying beside her.

The clean up was minimal and she insisted on going back to her place, kissing him so he didn’t think to ask for her number, and Nanette hailed a cab that she hunched in the back seat of with a feeling of pain and regret blooming throughout her entire body. Francesca was asleep when she got home, at least, and Nanette scrubbed her skin raw in the shower before curling under her blankets and finally letting the tears fall.

She had to be broken if it never felt good.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her, the soft yellow sun dress she was wearing and flat sandals paired with the floral print cardigan made Nanette look so soft and inviting, and Zach slung the picnic basket over his shoulder before waving to the others and offering his arm. He watched her cheeks flush a little as she accepted, resting her hand on his forearm gently enough, and Zach felt like he could fly.

“So, any hints on where we’re going?” Nanette’s voice was soft and light, airy with notes of curiosity and teasing, it made Zach chuckle fondly and shake his head.

“No, I don’t think I’ll spoil the surprise Nanette.” He earned an exaggerated pout but that melted away instantly into light laughter and a soft ‘okay Zach’ that made his heartbeat skip again. They talked about her upcoming schedule, with Nanette confirming she was indeed a model, and about the extra workouts she’d done with week with her trainer Louis to make up for her indulgent order.

She didn’t seem to regret it, which made Zach believe she wasn’t as harsh on herself as he’d feared she might be, but he did have to bite the inside of his cheek in worry about the dessert he’d packed. Even if she chose not to enjoy it he hoped she wasn’t upset that he’d brought it, it was just something sweet to end the afternoon with, and they reached the rose garden where other people had similar ideas that he had. Nanette gasped softly as they walked through a tunnel of roses in a variety of colors, leaving the main segment of the park and hiding from the sun under the canopy of vines and roses hidden away by those who never took the time to explore.

“Oh-! This looks amazing!” The pita pocket sandwiches had been Burk’s idea, a Mediterranean salad with chickpeas had been what Nanette chose, and he had to admit that it wasn’t bad at all -he’d made himself one the day before the picnic to make sure it would taste good- and Zach had opted for a chicken salad wrap.

“I packed dessert but you don’t have to eat any if it’ll get you in trouble.” Nanette wiped her mouth with her napkin, the lemon and oil dressing smearing across her face a little, and Zach cupped her hand to direct her to clearing up the drip on her chin that might’ve spilled on her dress. He felt his cheeks warm as Nanette blushed a deeper shade of pink, her lashes fluttering slightly at the contact, but before he could say -or do- something else stupidly bold he watched her lips lift into a smile that held hope and interest in it.

“Depends on what it is, I think, Zach.”

“Can you have some peach pie?”

He watched Nanette nod, her eyes glittering with some kind of emotion, and he tamped down the nerves and worries that she was pitying him in any way as she stole a peek into the basket and giggled.

“I’ve never had peach pie but I’d love to try some.”

His heart squeezed a little at the remark, he couldn’t imagine not having something like peach pie ever, and Zach hoped that she liked his mother’s recipe.

“Well, that’s a lofty thing for me to be in charge of the first ever peach pie you’ll get to eat, I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will, everything I’ve had so far has been amazing.”

Zach’s heart was racing now, the smallest ugliest part of his mind was convinced her praise and cheer were lip service and that he was just something to pass the time for Nanette, but he couldn’t see any signs of lying or deception in her smile. He knew it was hard but in this case he was going to trust that she was being up front with him about her feelings, that his worries were just his insecurities, and Nanette launched into a story about a photo shoot on the beach in the winter time due to a re-shoot needing to be done and how one of the models had nearly sent a camera flying into the ocean when she pitched a fit over the weather.

He was enraptured as she spoke, the careful way she held herself and her poise in general were inspirational, and he wanted his sketchbook and charcoals more than ever now. It was cheesy, and made him think of the Titanic, but Zach wanted to draw her. To immortalize the image of her, here in a garden of roses with him, smiling and laughing and looking free.

Luckily his distraction was either ignored or unnoticed, her story ending with the model being taken off the set and a backup called in, and Zach happily shared stories about some of the entitled and spoiled people he’d met during his time in service. By the time he was pulling out the pie Nanette was red faced from laughing, he had managed to avoid being too forward with touching her again, but when he offered her a forkful of pie he felt his breath catch as she closed her mouth around the fork while he held it.

Nanette’s playful look softened as she chewed thoughtfully and Zach watched the way her eyes seemed to just glow.

“That’s amazing, it’s so yummy. Does it have bourbon in it?”

“Just a splash, you have a really good taste for flavors, Nanette.”

He took a bite himself and had to admit it was his best effort yet, made in his home kitchen and brought in for everyone behind the counter to pick at once he’d taken their slice out, and Nanette went back for two more bites but he knew she was mindful of what she was eating given that she’d logged it in her food journal app almost right away. It wasn’t a total shut down though, she’d eaten it -and seemed to enjoy it- so he was definitely feeling hopeful that he could in fact handle the life she led.

Zach wanted to protect her, to help her understand that she was beautiful and that she didn’t have to restrict herself so much since there were plenty of models that did well and weren’t at near dangerous weights, but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to try and push his views about her onto her. For all he knew Nanette truly, genuinely, was both happy with what she did and fully comfortable with how she had to live her life to keep that career she chose.

“So, why modeling? If you don’t mind me asking?” They’d fallen into a conversation lull as they both paid down on the blanket he’d packed, arms crossed behind their heads, and Nanette’s hum was gentle beside him.

“I used to do pageants, my mother started doing it when I was a toddler, which is why I can do all sorts of talents like juggling and plate spinning and whatnot. My dad hated it but  because of his drug history, even though he’d been clean for seven years, when they divorced he was only given visitation rights. My mother comes from a fairly affluent family down in Texas, basically, and my dad doesn’t so the courts ruled in her favor. My step-father supported my mother doing the pageant thing when they ended up together and when I got older it just made sense to try for a career in modeling.” He supposed he could get it, going from kid pageants to beauty pageants, to modeling made sense.

“And you enjoy it? I’m not trying to down what you do but I know the industry isn’t exactly… kind.”

“Most of the time I do, Zach, and I appreciate that you had worries about it. But the good outweighs the bad.”

They fell back into silence and only when he absolutely had to did Zach begin packing up the containers, folding the blanket, and he walked Nanette back to her apartment building since it was on the way to the diner. They laughed and talked about their favorite shows, actors, actresses, and movies on the way and by the time they reached her stoop he was feeling more hopeful than ever.

“I had a great time with you, Zach, I just- was this… this is a date right?” Nanette looked almost scared to ask and he felt his chest squeeze.

“Yes, Nanette, if you want it to be. I didn’t want to assume-“

“Assume away, Zach.”

He took her hand gently and, after scanning her face carefully, pressed the lightest kiss on her mouth that he felt her return. He pulled back, leaving it chaste, and Nanette’s slightly puckered face was soft as her eyes fluttered open and pink took over her cheeks once more.

“Can I take you out again?”

“Yes, I’ll let you know the best days for me, Zach.”

“That’s perfect, Nanette, I really like you.”

Zach knew it was a juvenile way to say what he was feeling but he couldn’t find the words, and some words had too much meaning right now, but Nanette’s smile was warm and indulgent and the hard on he’d been fighting all afternoon was trying to make its presence known.

“I really like you too, Zach. Please get back to the diner safe.” “Of course. Have- have a good afternoon.” He stumbled over his words when Nanette tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and -like a cliché scene in a romance movie- the sunlight caught her form just right, making her glow. He was in real trouble, he realized that now, because he had fallen hard.

All Fics Taglist: @hardc0rehaylz @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @musings-of-a-rose @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @AynsleyWalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80

You're so Classic Only: @green-socks @whataperfectwasteoftime

[storiesforallfandoms]

dirty little secret ~ jade west;victorious

word count: 1223

request?: no

description: in which someone who is supposed to be her friend reveals her deepest, darkest secret for some internet clout

pairing: jade west x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

If I had to hear the word “Robarazzi” one more time I think I’d lose my mind.

I don’t know why Robbie thought the brightest ideae was to bully his friends on his shitty TMZ rip-off show on TheSlap.com, but he was getting good viewership from it. Everyone was loving the show, it was the talk of the school. At the expense of our friend group.

Luckily, Robbie was smart enough not to air anything to do with me on his show. He was too afraid of me, he knew my bite was much meaner than my bark.

Walking into school, I didn’t notice everyone looking at me. I walked up to my locker, my headphones blasting some All Time Low, and unlocked it. I was grabbing my books when Tori raced up to me, immediately trying to tell me something.

I took my headphones out. “What?”

“Have you seen the new episode of Robarazzi?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not, I don’t watch that garbage.”

Tori gave me a look I couldn’t read as she got her phone from her pocket. The episode started as usual: Robbie and his stupid lackeys sat around their filming room.

“What do you guys have for me today?” Robbie asked.

“I overheard a pretty secretive conversation between Tori Vega and (Y/F/N),” a lower grade boy responded.

My eyes widened as I snatched the phone from Tori and watched as a video of the two of us by Tori’s locker popped up on the screen.

“Are you going to tell her now?” Tori was asking me.

“No,” I responded, nearly rolling my eyes at her question.

“Why? She’s finally single!”

“Yeah, she was single a month ago too, and remember what happened? They got back together the next day.”

“But this is different. It’s very final now.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“(Y/N), come on. You have to tell her eventually. You can’t just keep this secret for your whole life.”

“I can try.” Tori gave me a look at this. “Tori, I appreciate your concern, but the fact of the matter is I don’t even know if she likes girls. I could ruin this friendship and I don’t want to do that. I will take this secret to my grave. Jade West will never know I have a crush on her.”

I shared a look with Tori as the video ended before shoving her phone back into her hands and making my way to Robbie’s locker.

He knew he was in trouble the moment he saw me. He tried to make an escape, but I shoved him against his locker. Tori and I surrounded him, making sure he couldn’t leave.

“Take the video down,” I demanded.

“But it’s the best episode of Robarazzi yet!”

“That doesn’t matter, Robbie,” Tori said. “What you did to (Y/N) is not right!”

“What I did? I helped her admit her crush to Jade!”

“That wasn’t your secret to tell!” I snapped, feeling my body shake with rage. I was so ready to beat the shit out of him in this moment. I didn’t care if he was my friend.

“Hey!”

As if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Jade came around the corner and also stormed up to Robbie, grabbing his shirt collar and violently shoving him up against his locker. If fear was Robbie’s primary emotion when I was getting mad at him, whatever Jade was making him feel was much worse.

“Take the episode down,” Jade hissed, her voice dangerously low.

“But - ” Robbie started.

“TAKE THE EPISODE DOWN!” Jade basically screamed.

With a shaky hand, Robbie pulled his tablet from his bag and deleted the episode in front of us. When he had, Jade let him go and he quickly scurried away, his bag still hanging open as he raced off.

“Well,” Tori said, “that went well.”

“Thanks,” I said to Jade.

“No problem. What he did was wrong on so many levels and so not fair to you. If I were you, I’d never be friends with that little creep ever again.”

“I’m debating on it.”

An awkward silence fell over the three of us. I had some hope that Jade hadn’t seen the video, but of course I should’ve known better. Even if I could’ve gotten the video taken down before Jade saw it, the gossip would spread throughout the school like wildfire.

Tori looked over at me before smiling awkwardly. “Well...I’m gonna go.”

I tried to secretly grab hold of her arm to get her to stay, but she managed to escape before I could. It was just me and Jade, stood awkwardly together.

What do I say? Do I leave? Pretend this never happened?

I decided on the final two options and nodded to Jade before attempting to leave.

“(Y/N), wait.”

I cringed to myself as I turned back to Jade.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

I sighed. “I want to melt into the floor and cease to exist, actually. Or get a concussion and forget any of this happened.”

Jade smiled a little and nodded. “I get that. I was mortified when Robbie shared that video of me and Beck.”

I tried not to flinch at the mention of Beck’s name, but the concerned look on Jade’s face told me I didn’t conceal it very well.

“Tori was right, you know,” she told me. “About the breakup. It is permanent this time.”

“I’ve heard that before, Jade.”

“I mean it this time. It’s over. Beck and I don’t love each other anymore. Well, we love each other, but we’re not in love with each other.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Jade smiled at me. It was genuine and not awkward. “You’re a smart girl, (Y/N). You’ll figure it out.”

I knew what she was implying, but I couldn’t believe it. Jade had never shown interest in women before. Maybe it was because she was with Beck, but she had never even mentioned being into girls before Beck.

“You’re...you’re straight,” I said. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t have a label,” she responded with a shrug. “I just love whoever I love.”

“Oh.” My response was lame, but it did make her laugh, which was a win in my eyes.

“Is that why you never told me? Because you thought I was straight?”

“There was so much more than that. I was afraid to ruin our friendship, and you were so in love with Beck I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance.”

Jade nodded. “Well...I can’t tell you that I’m ready to date anyone right now...but if you’re willing to wait at least a month for me, I’d love to give things a shot.”

I took my phone from my pocket and opened the calendar app. Jade watched, a little confused, as I set a date.

“A reminder,” I announced, “for one month’s time: take Jade on the best date of her life.”

Jake smiled as the warning bell rang. “I should get to class.”

“Yeah, me too.”

There was a moment where neither of us moved, we just stood smiling at one another. Finally, Jade went towards her first class. I did a quick victory dance before racing off to my own class.

Robarazzi finally did something good.

[fandom-monium]

fuck shit i loved unrivaled but can we please get jealous reader? like maybe everyones on a mission and spencer has to flirt with someone?? the target??? thank you keep doing what you do!! <3

Established Relationship Rivalry

Summary: In which you really don't like Spencer talking to other girls... or assassins. "Shut your mouth, before I do it for you."

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, Jealous!Reader, companion piece to Unrivaled but not a sequel, pining (?), fluff and angst(?), established relationships RIVALRY, more reader-centric sorry, ft. Entropy Cat Adams that bitch (derogatory), a darker side of Mysterious!Reader comes to light

⏤

You sit at the bar a few seats down from JJ, watching Spencer at the corner of your eye as he puts on a show of settling into the velvet booth. 

The restaurant is fancy, the kind you take your significant other, or in this case, invite your ‘high end’ date to gain their trust, lure them in. Your vision swims at its dark red scheme and slightly dim lights, but it’s not too much that you don’t notice how good Spencer looks in his new suit, something he’s recently taken up. The blazer’s dark against his light skin, his purple tie is in a lopsided knot, and he even combed his hair a little. 

You sigh. If only you weren’t on the job, you’d stare as much as you’d want. It seems you’re not the only one who’s noticed either, surrounding patrons stealing glances at Spencer despite most of them with company.

You decide suits might be your favorite on him. It’s definitely up there.

But as the wine glass threatens to crack between your fingers, you weigh the possibility that maybe⏤just maybe⏤you should reel in your emotions, because you might actually get yourself kicked off the operation.

Now, you’re not jealous. Seriously.

This isn’t jealousy. Spencer and you aren’t even like that. Like, yeah you care about each other (more than what would be considered platonic), but you’re not together together, and there’s certainly not this weird, unspoken agreement that neither of you are to be ‘involved’ with others. Because that would imply you have feelings. More specifically, non-platonic feelings for someone you’re just not ready to admit to.

Then Catherine Adams enters the arena.

Her strides are short, almost dainty, and if you were a less experienced profiler you’d think that she was a normal woman, shy and awkward as any first date would be.

But you know each footstep is calculated, controlled. A perfected facade built on years of practice.

Other than respecting her abilities, you don’t know how to feel about her. From what little you guys could gather from her file, she is little… psycho.

So no, you’re not jealous. 

You’re not jealous when she exchanges shy smiles with Spencer. 

You’re not jealous when she invades his personal bubble. Or when she gropes him for his gun.

No, this isn’t jealousy that burns in your stomach. Oh no no no.

This is fury, your eyes stinging with barely contained rage. And as you imagine the eight different ways you could amputate Adam’s hands with a butterknife (there’s plenty within arms length, you could reach it), it takes Hotch’s stern voice for you to lower it to a simmer.

“(Your Name), calm down,” he crackles into your earpiece.

Hoping to dissuade from yourself, you cover a sickly sweet smile behind your glass, your canines glinting in the light. “Hotch, please, I’m the epitome of calm and collected.”

“We can literally see your teeth grinding on cams, and if we can see it, Cat Adam’s will too⏤”

You huff.

“Now calm down. You look more like a disgruntled divorcee than a satisfied customer.”

Okay, harsh. You almost reply indignantly before you catch JJ’s gaze, her blue eyes warm with enough understanding that it makes your shoulders relax. As much as you appreciate her, you’re supposed to be strangers in this restaurant. She can’t even mouth to you without giving you both away, blowing your covers⏤

“...tell Blondie McBlonderson over there at the bar to disappear.”

⏤cover. Welp. There goes that plan.

Immediately you lower your gaze to the rim of your glass, keeping the bitch in your peripheral as JJ clenches her jaw and slides off her stool, trudging off to the kitchen. It’s a chess match; Cat picks each of you off as if you’re pawns, sacrificial pieces, bait, until the restaurant is clear and Morgan, Lewis, and you remain. Gun raised, you try not to sneer as Lewis cuffs the Bomber’s hands behind her back, leading her and the civilians outside. 

“Guess we’re right back where we started. You and me with a gun,” Adams huffs, her tone betraying nothing. Your anger spikes as she grips Reid like a human shield. “Although, I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you.” She stares across the room at Morgan…and you.

She’s looking directly at you.

You frown. “Do I know you?”

Adams snorts, adjusting Reid in front of her, “No, I guess not. Last time we met was years ago, and you were a whole other person at the time. I barely even recognized you.” Her eyes trail over your figure, and your skin crawls as her lips stretch into a cruel smile. A threat. “But you never forget your first, right?”

Oh. Oh.

Oh no.

In the blink of an eye, you pull the hammer of your firearm, its click echoing through the empty restaurant louder than it should have. Your lips pull back in a snarl, “Shut your mouth, before I do it for you.” 

Her response: a cheshire grin in return.

Huh. You hadn’t used that tone in what feels like forever, your voice laced with the promise of silence and death. It doesn’t feel as foreign as you hoped, and the realization wrenches your gut as you pretend not to notice Reid and Morgan’s scrutinizing gaze, eyes full of questions. Questions you really don’t want to answer. Not now.

Preferably not ever.

So you redirect everyone’s attention back to the situation at hand. It takes little prompting, considering Adams is holding a gun to Reid’s face, and it’s not long when Morgan convinces her to surrender. Like a shadow, you trail behind Morgan as Reid hauls her to the prison transport, your eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.

As Reid steps away, as he quietly settles next to you, before Morgan shuts the truck’s double doors Adams catches your eye. Her eyes glisten as her body shudders from hiccups. But she grins at you, wide enough to make your stomach squirm.

You flip her the bird in return.  

For the rest of the night you act natural, keeping your head down. You don’t leave right away, because nothing screams ‘something’s wrong’ than ditching everyone, so you passively agree to check on Garcia despite your grim mood. But at the sight of her, inebriated as she aggressively tells everyone how she loves them⏤loves you⏤you can’t help the tiny smile that spreads across your face (mostly because she’s pinching your cheeks). 

Even if she doesn’t mean to, Garcia manages to brighten your day, and you love her more for that.

After bidding your farewells (swallowing when Morgan shoots you a look that says, ‘this isn’t over’), you walk side by side with Reid, trudging through the tense atmosphere until you realize with a tight chest: he escorted you to your car. For a moment, you both stand at the driver’s side door, a beat of silence passing as you shakily pull out your keys. 

His hands, stuffed in his pockets, clench and unclench as his jaw sets. He’s yet to look you in the eye but you know, and for once you pray⏤to the universe, to whatever deities are out there, to Karma⏤that he’ll let this go, drop the subject. Hopefully never bring it up.

But this is Spencer we’re talking about. He’s your… friend. He’s confused and concerned and he wants to help some way, somehow.

So as you unlock your car, as his lips part, you don’t give him the chance, shoving away your dread. 

“You wanna get dinner?” It comes rushed, fear trickling into your voice. You hope he doesn’t notice. (He does.)

Spencer blinks at you, his mouth agape. “What?”

“It’s just,” You lick your lips, tugging thick air into your lungs as your body screams to run. Your eyes dart from his, looking at the ground, your car, the scuffs on your shoes, and you hate yourself, knowing Spencer notices all of it. “It’s a shame we didn’t get the chance to eat at that expensive restaurant, ya know? It was paid for too.”

Please, don’t ask. Please, don’t ask. 

“...That’s true.” His tone is scarily neutral. 

Looking up, you’re taken aback as he turns away to round the hood of your car to the passenger side door. “What do you think of thai for tonight?” 

You stammer a response, something along the lines of ‘uh⏤yeah, sounds good’ as you clamber into the car after him, fumbling to insert your key into the ignition. Your nerves only worsen by the second as you drive off into the dark, the only sounds coming from the rev of the engine and your heart thundering in your ears. Up ahead the traffic light changes, slowing you to a stop. You glance at Spencer, his purple tie red from the light, his side profile softly outlined in its harsh glow. He remains deathly quiet.

The silent treatment, huh. If he thinks reverse psychology is going to work on you...

He’d be absolutely right. His silence is deafening.

You turn to him, “Spencer⏤”

“You don’t have to.” Your breath catches in your throat, his lips parting and closing as he stumbles for the right words, “I mean, not right now. I-I know this isn’t the best time, but at some point we’re going to have to talk about it. So whenever you’re ready, I⏤” He clears his throat, twisting in his seat and meeting your eyes. His eyes gleam, earnest even in the dark. 

“We’ll be here for you.”

You can’t help gawking at him. Because Spencer’s eyes are inquisitive and kind⏤always have been⏤but right now they’re trained on you, and your face burns as your heart swells. You’re suffocating.

Because you want to tell him⏤all of them.

But fear clutches your heart.

White-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, you face the road again, blinking through unshed tears. “Thank you.”

Spencer nods, relaxing back into his seat. You’re relieved your answer’s enough for now.

The light turns green and you speed off. The grim night turns a little brighter as you fall back into routine with Spencer, the tension slowly lifting, your stomach, once filled with lead, now stuffed with thai food.

You’ll deal with Cat Adams later. She’s behind bars, so you doubt it’ll be anytime soon. You laugh as Spencer curses, soiling another pair of chopsticks when they hit the floor. Yes, you’ll deal with her when you’re ready.

That is, until you’re stopped by another red light.

⏤

AN: no cap i hesitated posting this because i realized after finishing its less of a Spencer Reid x Reader and more a reader-centric. i wanted to establish that reader has a whole backstory sorryyyy i hope yall like it anyway :)))

if you didnt notice, unless stated otherwise almost all my oneshots and FtH are tied together by Mysterious!Reader. yall dont have to but if you read them it helps understand reader better??

[perzawa]

→ defender of justice

saeyoung choi x fem! reader

desc: you weren’t the best at relationships. man after man, woman after woman, but you could not find the right one. after getting stood up on a date, a mysterious man with red hair comes to the rescue. 

genre: smut

warnings: praise kink, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, pet names

word count: 3.1K

Not again.

Not like this.

Hot tears pricked your eyes, the salty liquid rolling slowly down your flaming cheeks. How long had it been since you were sitting in that exact spot, waiting and waiting and waiting. You looked around like a lost puppy, mouth agape and eyes wide. Where the hell was he? You scammed the restaurant, your eyes glossing over multiple bodies of men and women. Everyone looked so happy with their spouses or potential mates, smiling in the faces of each other as they shared meals. 

That was supposed to be you laughing. That was meant to be you sharing spaghetti with your boyfriend. How could you be so foolish to believe he’d show up this time? 

“Ma’am, are you ready to pay for your meal?” The woman asked kindly, eyes shut with a large smile plastered on her features. You frowned, wiping away at the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just a moment, ma’am.” 

“Okay! I’ll be back!” She left soon after. Sweat trickled down your eyebrows and your breathing hitched, stomach churning painfully. You were surrounded by couples. Everywhere you looked, there was a couple. Man, women, women, men. You’d given up. He won. Getting ready to pay and leave, you stood up, wiping at the new tears forming in your eyes. 

You took one last look around. Multiple people had been paying attention to you now, apologetic looks dancing across their faces. You simply smiled in their directions. You didn’t need pity from anyone. You’ve been stood up before, you’ll be fine. Yeah, you’ll be fine after you eat six tubs of ice cream and cry your eyes out for a week. Maybe you and Akira weren’t meant to be. You had given up now, sighing as you reached for your wallet, standing to your aching feet.

Just then, a pair of shoes stepped into your vision and you looked up, instantly in awe. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. You can sit down now.” 

You stared up at him, lips agape as you tried to process his request. This wasn’t Akira. I mean, he was no doubt more attractive than Akira was in every way, but he definitely wasn’t Akira. The last time you’d seen him, Akira had black hair, not red. 

“W-Who are you?” 

“I’m Seven. Just go with it, okay?” He whispered to you, sitting in the seat across the table from yours. Shocked, you didn’t say anything, only blinking at the man. 

“I was standing there,” he looked over and pointed to the small line of people waiting to be seated. “I was there for a bit and I noticed that you’d been stood up.” You winced hearing the words, eyes darting down in embarrassment. You knew he wasn’t coming, but it still ached to hear him put it so matter-of-factly. 

“He’s a dick. Or she.” 

“A-Are you here with someone?” You tripped over your words, rubbing your exposed arm with your hand. Suddenly the air was cooler, tighter. 

“Nah, I came alone. I originally came for pickup, but seeing a pretty little lady all by herself made me change my mind.” 

“O-Oh…” you tilted your head up at him. “Please, I don't wish to burden you or anything. You’re incredibly sweet, but you can get your food.” 

The mysterious man chuckled, running his hand through his shaggy hair as his eyes looked you up and down. “You’re precious.” 

“I’m serious. I don’t want you to pity me. I saw this coming.” You mumbled those last words, pushing your plate of food to the middle of the table, hoping a waitress would swing by soon so that you could leave quickly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. My conscience won’t allow me to leave you alone here.” You frowned, crossing your legs under the table. Your eyes met his and you’d noticed how pretty his were, suddenly melting. This man was adorable. Sure, he was kinda underdressed to be eating there, but you overlooked his apparel. He was hot. 

A few minutes passed by of an odd silence before a waitress came by, taking your old food and asking who she assumed to be your date, if he was ready to order. 

So he did. 

“Seven…” you muttered, hoping he would’ve been gone by now. “You’re too nice. I-I’ll pay for this as a thank you.” 

“Pay for it? Oh, hush, I got it. I’ve got enough. Don’t thank me for anything, okay?” 

And that was it. He ordered food and even shared a bit with you, even after you explained that you’d already eaten. You didn’t even know how you could both find so much to talk about, being complete strangers and all. But you still found a way. You incorporated jobs, home life, and he even allowed you to talk about your relationship with Akira a bit. 

“I was right. He sounds like an ass.” 

You giggled, reaching over the table to fork some of his salad before shoving it in your mouth. Seven gazed at you in awe, his focus completely set on you whenever you decided to share something, anything. 

“He wasn’t always like that, I promise. We got along really well for a while and it was perfect,” you looked down at the table you were sitting at before a dry chuckle found its way out of you. “We’re a bit off and on, you could say. That’s why this was so important to me. I guess he didn’t care as much.”

Seven frowned, noticing your change in demeanor. 

“Don’t let that get you down, okay? Look, you may not know me, but I’m here now. And as far as I’m concerned, I’m having so much fun right now. I’m glad he didn’t show up.” 

“Really? Y-You’re having fun?” Your eyes widened and you felt blood rush to your cheeks, self consciously rubbing your arm, which had now produced an insane amount of goosebumps. 

“Course I am, sweetie. What? You thought I stayed for my health? You’re cool. He’s missing out.” 

And with that, you both changed the subject to forget about Akira. He was irrelevant. 

You didn’t end up paying for your bill in the end, Seven did. Of course he did it, throwing in a ‘you really thought I’d let you pay for this alone?’ While he was at it. He escorted you out, hands stuffed in his pocket. You felt the cool air embrace your skin, the new area calming you now, the wind sweeping away every negative thought you experienced that evening. You almost forgot you’d even been stood up in the first place, really. But that’s how fun the ginger was. He was sweet and loud, always making jokes. His humor was a little bit odd. Well, it was extremely odd, but it made him more attractive to you. From his striped glasses to his plain sneakers, he was so down to earth. You wanted to talk to him again. You needed to say thank you. 

“I had a great time. Hey, actually, you never told me your name.” He turned to you, both of you still standing in front of the building. 

“Oh! You’re right! It’s Y/N.” 

“Well, Y/N, I had a good time. I’ll get going now, you take care for me.” The tall man turned away, pressing the button on his keys. Your ears perked up after hearing the car beep, indicating that the car was his. 

He was leaving. 

C’mon, Y/N. Ask him. It won’t be hard, right? The worst he could say is that he’s probably busy or he’s got work in the morning. Just do it. Do it. 

You yelped and that seemed to snatch his attention, the man whipping around to see if you were alright. 

“You good?” 

“Y-Yeah! Um, I’ve got no idea if you’re like busy tomorrow or something,” you trailed off, staring at your heels as you rocked back and forth on them. “I wanted to know if you wanted to come over! J-Just to like, watch Netflix. Unless you’re busy! Then that’s okay! I’m so sorry for burdening you!” You rambled on, your face entirely flushed, your body swinging sporadically from putting yourself on the spot like that. 

“Hey, hey, stop that,” he pushed your chin up, your eyes drifting to his hair, rather than his eyes. “I’d love to come over, okay? Hell, where’s your car? Let’s go right now.” 

Your eyes shot down to his, your face lighting up at his kind words. 

“Oh! Um, I took a cab here!” 

“That’s fine. Just gimme the directions, I’ll take you.” 

You could feel your heart swell in your chest. He was so damn cute. His smile stretched across his entire face, eyes closed from his cheeks pushing them upward. He guided you to his vehicle and let's just say you were more than impressed with his ride, eyes widening. Damn, now you really had to know where this man worked to afford such an expensive car. That was a question for another day. You pulled up a GPS and from there, the ride was mostly silent. You aimlessly scrolled through your twitter feed until he pulled up outside your home, first asking if he was at the right place. 

“Yeah, this is it!” Seven nodded and parked in your driveway, stepping out of his car awkwardly waiting for you to unlock the door before he did anything else. He locked his car, following after you. You giggled and unlocked your home, your cat rushing to the opening door to greet you. 

Seven laughed, pushing his way in as well. “Hey! I love cats!” 

You beamed, bending down to pet your feline. “Mmm, that’s a funny coincidence! Her name’s Elle.” 

Seven’s goofy demeanor dropped into a much more serious one. “You’re lying! There’s no way! M-My friend, his cat’s name is Elizabeth!” 

You threw your hands up, bursting into a fit of laughter. You looked up at the flickering lights, wishing you’d remembered to turn them off before you left the house. That was your worst bad habit. Seven noticed the flickering as well, but ignored it, just standing awkwardly as he awaited your next steps. You turned the main light off and led him to your living room, sitting on your sofa. He plopped down on the furniture and spotted the remote on the coffee table, passing it to you. You thanked him and turned the television on, the bright light illuminating the living space. 

“Whatcha wanna watch?” You asked, turning to Netflix. 

“Uh, scary movie? Or Anime? I could care less.” You nodded and searched for a horror film that you could both agree on, settling the remote on the coffee table. Not too long had passed before you were both cuddled up together, reclining the sofa so that neither of you would roll off by accident. You didn’t think you’d get so comfortable with a stranger, but there you were watching a horror movie with him while his arms were wrapped around your hips, pulling you into his touch. You’d be a fibber if you said you didn’t like it. 

“I hope you know I meant what I said. You’re cool as hell.” 

“Could say the same for you, Mr. Seven.” 

“Oh,” he teased, his lips close to your ear. “Am I Mister now?” 

“Depends. Do you wanna be called that?” 

Seven snickered, rubbing circles into your waist. A low groan escaped your lips, a small laugh following. Neither of you even cared about the movie anymore. 

“I guess that depends on what type of Mister you’re thinking of.” 

Chills ran down your spine and you smiled, slowly grinding yourself onto him. Seven’s breath hitched in his throat, a small chuckle following after. 

“That’s how we’re playing?” You didn’t respond, simply moaning while you continued grinding yourself against him. Seven gripped your hips tighter, rocking his hips against your ass. He pushed your hair out of the way, pressing his lips to the back of your neck. You let out a yelp, melting into his touch while his hips continued to move against your ass. You could feel him hardening, his tongue flicking against your skin. 

Seven groaned, sucking marks onto your innocent neck while you felt yourself getting lost in his touch. 

“Can I fuck you?” He whispered, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips again. You nodded, and before you knew it, he’d instantly had you on your back. 

“You know,” he started, grinning down at your defenseless body. “I did not think this was how tonight would play out. But I’m so glad it did.” He unbuckled his pants, pulling his cock free from his underwear. His cock sprung free, precum already bubbling at the tip. You licked your lips at the sight, feeling a surge of wetness rush through your pussy, wetting your white underwear. You shut your eyes tightly, your fingers finding their way to your underwear as something in your forced you to circle your clit through your panties. 

Seven spat on his hand, the mixture of saliva and precum slicking his cock enough. “That’s hot. Keep going.” He whispered, stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You whimpered, finger rubbing circles into your clothed clit while he jerked his hard cock, groaning at the your vulnerability. 

“Yeah, that’s good. So good. C’mon, take those pretty little panties off.” You weren’t hesitant at all, quickly sliding the panties down your ass. You’d never been fucked on your sofa before, oddly enough. You’d been fucked almost everywhere in your house but the time to do it on your sofa never really came up. You were glad, though, it was so hard to get comfortable on the black leather furniture. 

“Let me see that pretty pussy,” he muttered, pulling your dress up to your neck, the pink bra exposed under the fabric. Seven gripped your clothed tit before kneeling between your legs, leaning forward. 

“You’re so pretty. Your body’s so damn pretty. Everything about it. I don’t even remember his name, but he’s fuckin’ missing out.” 

He circled his wet tip against your clit, gathering some of your slick on his cock. You cried out. 

“Please, Seven, hurry.” 

“Are you rushing me? Bad girl.” He kissed the side of your lip before pushing against your entrance, sliding into the tight heat. You gasped, tears forming in your eyes from the painful stretch. It was probably helpful to mention how big Seven was. You almost couldn’t see from the constantly fading light of the television, but he was a good size. One you didn’t expect from someone so thin and lanky. Not that you weren’t appreciative or anything. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist as he bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment to move. 

“Tight.” He choked out, pulling out halfway before slamming back into you, grunting with each thrust. His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but you could care less, clenching around his constantly moving length. You cried out his name, tears falling from your eyes. 

Seven found a good pace to fuck you at, rocking his hips inside of you slowly while you adjusted to his large cock, pussy fluttering over him.

“Fuck yeah, baby. So good. So, so good. I could cum on the spot feeling you grip me like this.” 

You looked into his eyes, slamming your lips against his waiting ones without any thinking. Seven moaned into the exchange, pounding you as hard as he could while his tongue pushed past your opened lips, both of your tongues intertwined. Your velvet walls gripped his cock harder, causing the man to begin moaning, hips stuttering while he fucked into you. You felt like you were already on edge, rocking your hips against his. Your ears perked up and you yelped hearing your phone ring. 

Seven’s eyes darted over to the contact name, sweat dripping down his glistening forehead. 

‘Akira 💕…’ 

“Answer it,” he snarled, his pace never haulting. He was quicker, harder, as he fucked his cock into you, head constantly hitting against your special spot. You couldn’t help but moan, tears drying on your cheeks while fire spread inside of you, the overwhelming need to cum urging you on. You didn’t question him, simply reaching over to the coffee table to grab the device, answering it. 

“Yeah?” You put him on speaker. 

Seven’s eyes were cut, focusing on the conversation while pounding you. He gripped your waist tightly, stifling a moan. 

“Sorry I couldn’t make it. I don’t know, I don’t think we should be seeing each other anymore.” 

Your heart dropped at his words and your stomach churned. 

“Fuck yeah,” Seven moaned loudly, throwing his head back. His hands travelled lower, gripping your ass while his cock hit the hilt of your pussy over and over again. You were so close, almost there. 

“Who’s that?” Akira squeaked. 

“No one,” you moaned out, forgetting to even hold back by now. 

“Tell him. Tell him how good you feel. Go ahead, naughty girl. Tell him.” 

You felt more tears well in your eyes, fresh liquid dripping to your damp cheeks. 

“I feel so good, Seven. Please fuck me. Harder, please. So close. I’m gonna cum. Please,” you managed to get out, fucking yourself on his cock while holding the phone in your hand. Ever thrust felt like energy being launched into your body, electricity shocking you each time your pussy clenched on his cock, walls constantly being jabbed at. It felt so good. You were almost there. One more thrust. 

“I want you to feel good. Want you to feel so fucking good. Do you feel good? You feel good with my cock inside you? Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Gonna cum, Seven. Close.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. Go ahead, I’m close too, pretty girl.” By now, Akira had hung up, his own heart dropping to his feet as well. As long as he understood how you felt, it was okay. You were fine. You’d be fine like this. 

He sped up, sporadically whimpering sweet nothings as he pounded you through your orgasm, pussy fluttering around his length while you came, cum coating his dick. Seven screamed out, burying himself to the hilt inside of you while he came, shooting his load into your gaping heat. He collapsed on top of you, both of your breathing uneven. 

“Good. That was good,” you found a way to croak out, releasing your grip on his waist. He didn’t respond, only kissing your sweaty neck. 

“Good girl.” He said, cock still buried inside of you. You flushed at the nickname, whimpering. He waited again to speak when you’d both caught your breath, bodies still, simply enjoying the presence of the other. The television was still on, the movie was over now. It had probably been over for a while. 

“Maybe it's not the right time for this, but can I take you out next week?

[space-mermaid-writing]

House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

~~

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.