#Kinder days will come. Of that I’m sure.

[fakeoutbf]

.

[headkiss]

fall right into me

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when something happens to your apartment and you need a place to stay, steve, your best friend, is quick to provide it for you. your prolonged proximity forces you both to realize some things.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: childhood bffs to lovers, absolute idiots in love, mentions of a negative relationship with parents, probably inaccurate descriptions of some things but it’s (say it with me) for the plot!!!

a/n: i know it’s been a LONG time since i’ve posted a long fic so thank u guys for ur patience <3 i had so much fun getting back to it and writing these two, and i hope it’s at least a little bit worth the wait!!! ily :,)

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Your shoes are still wet as you dial the first number that comes to mind: Steve’s.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hi,” you can imagine him on the other side of the phone, leaning casually against the wall, an easy smile on his face, “what’s going on?”

You’re not quite sure where to start.

Coming home from work earlier, you’d been excited to shower and change and lay around for the rest of the evening, your book hanging open in your lap and some mindless TV filling the silence.

The day seemed to have other plans for you, though, because as you walked down the stairs to your apartment—one in the basement of a sweet, older couple’s house who just never used the space and converted it—the carpet had made an ugly squelch as soon as you stepped on it.

You looked down at your shoe against the carpet, at the way its color was darker than usual from whatever water had gotten into it. Looking up, you found a complete mess. A piece of the ceiling hanging open right above your bed, water still dripping in steady drops from the gap, your bedding ruined among many other things.

You don’t know how long you stood there, hand over your mouth, eyes flickering over the damage like you were hoping it would vanish, like it was only something you imagined.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

The couple who owns the house came down when they heard you shout for them, unsure of what else to do. They’d both gasped when they came down, and began apologizing for something that really wasn’t their fault before one ran up to call whoever it was they needed to call to fix this and the other comforted you with a gentle “we’ll take care of it, sweetie.”

You nodded, eyes still roaming your space that was now uninhabitable.

It’s an old house, something was bound to happen at some point, you only wished it wasn’t so inconvenient for you. A small leak, you could have handled, but the ceiling practically caving in?

Yeah, it was a complete fucking mess.

Hours later, with the damage assessed and set to take a few weeks to fix up, you’re on the phone with the one person you’d known would pick up.

You fill Steve in on what happened, and his first response is a sigh of, “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit,” you agree. “And now I’m gonna have to live with my parents for a while and I don’t know how I’m gonna go back into that house, Steve.”

If you’re being honest, the couple you live with now was kinder to you than your parents were. You suppose that’s one of the many things that you and Steve have bonded over.

“Just come live with me, instead,” he offers without hesitation.

Steve says it like it’s obvious, a no-brainer, and you guess it should be, since you’ve slept over at the Harrington’s house countless times before. Only, this is different because you’d be staying for a while, because you’d be needing his help, which makes you feel all awkward and guilty.

He’s been your absolute best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’re one hundred percent sure you’d offer the same thing if the roles were reversed, but that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept, not when you’re already frazzled from the events of the day.

“No, Steve, I’m sorry I’m just being dramatic,” you say, twisting the phone’s cord around your finger. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a month, or so, and I don’t wanna be in your way or-”

“When have you ever cared about being in my way, angel?” The pet name he’s called you ever since your ninth grade Halloween party slips out naturally, the way it always does. “Besides, this house is too fucking big for me as it is, and you know my parents won’t be around to care, either.”

“I can’t ask you to let me move in, Steve.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not asking. I’m offering. It’ll be like that one week when we were twelve and you stayed over for spring break, only longer. It’s perfect!”

There’s a small smile ghosting across your face as you recall the memory he’s talking about. A blanket fort in their spacious living room, sleeping bags and pillows piled inside it along with two flashlights.

You can picture the way he looks on the other end of the phone, his hair a bit messy from running his hands through it during the day, one strand rogue against his forehead, his shoulder leaned carelessly against the wall the way it usually is when he stands. Like he can’t be bothered to hold himself up, like there’s constantly a weight on him.

“Are you sure about this, Steve? It’s really okay if you’re not. I swear I’ll be fine.”

“As if I’m letting you spend multiple weeks back in your parent’s house. You’re staying with me, alright?” His voice is insistent, yet kind, letting you know that he’s being honest, that he means it. “We’ll order pizzas and watch shitty romcoms, ‘kay?”

“You can call romcoms shitty all you want, but we both know you get teary at every single one.”

“Don't change the subject, angel. Also, fuck off,” he says, though you can hear the smile in his voice. “So, you’re living with me, yeah?”

You don’t think you could say no to him even if you wanted to.

“Yeah, alright, Steve. Thank you so much.”

“None of that. I know you’d do the same.”

There’s something beautiful about the kind of trust and ease that comes with a friendship as long as yours. One where you’ve watched each other grow up, awkward phases and all, and stuck together the entire way. There’s no questioning whether or not you’d be there for each other if you were in need.

It’s known, felt. Like a fact.

“Now,” he continues, “I’ll pick you up, okay? Ten minutes, tops.”

“Okay.”

“You need me to bring boxes for your stuff?”

“I’m not sure how much is worth keeping. It’s pretty ugly in there.”

Your voice goes small at the end, because the gravity of it all is really sinking in. You’ll have to replace a lot of stuff. Stuff you don’t have money for right now.

But, you haven’t let yourself cry just yet, so you swallow it down.

“I’ll bring some anyway, then. We’ll figure it out, angel, don’t worry.”

“Thanks again, Steve. See you soon.”

“Ten minutes,” he assures you, then the line clicks.

-

True to his word, Steve arrives in under ten minutes, which isn’t surprising considering the size of Hawkins, but feels reassuring all the same.

You’re sitting on the curb in front of the house when Steve’s BMW pulls over on the other side of the road, and you stand just as he climbs out and shuts his door, rounding the car and jogging over to you.

His keys jingle as he tucks them into the pocket of his faded jeans, his opposite hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder, “You okay?”

The warmth of his palm seeps through your work shirt that you’ve yet to change out of, and you let your eyes fall shut just for a second before looking at his face, “Guess so,” you nod. “Maybe ask me again after all of this?”

Steve’s arm winds itself over your shoulders, tugging you into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of your head, simple as an instinct. “I’ve got you. We’ll get through this, angel.”

We’ll, he says. A team.

You reach up and squeeze his hand and nod, guiding him to the side-entrance leading to your basement apartment.

“I hope you didn’t wear your good shoes for this,” you say.

Steve looks down at his feet and shrugs, “Shoes can be replaced.”

He lets you lead the way down the stairs, his footsteps close behind yours. You wince when you look at the damage again, even though you’d seen it minutes ago. You can't bring yourself to look at Steve, to see the reaction on his face, because you think it’ll just make it all more real.

He mouths the word ‘fuck’ while you aren’t looking, then claps his hands once. “Okay, let’s figure out what we can save, yeah? Where do you want me?”

You’re grateful for his gentle guidance at what to do. “Maybe the bathroom? Everything in there should be fine, so it just needs to be packed.”

“‘Kay. I’ll just go grab some boxes from my car,” Steve says. He squeezes your hand once before heading up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You decide to tackle the worst spot first. Though the place is more like a studio, the side that houses your bed and your closet is the most affected, so you head over there and try to tune out the squish of the carpet beneath your feet.

You’re opening the sliding doors to your closet when Steve comes back, dropping a stack of boxes by your feet and running his hand down your arm softly before heading over to the bathroom to pack for you.

Even his presence seems to be making things a little bit easier for you, and each time he finds a small way to touch you or speak to you, to remind you that he’s there, you’re glad for it.

Half of your closet is a gross, wet mess, but some things are salvageable, which you take as a win. Things might be damp, but at least it’s only water, you suppose. A cycle in the dryer and most things will be wearable again.

Your dresses that are hung get the worst of it, soaked and smelly, and you decide that it’d be easier to get a couple new ones than to try and save what’s there.

Steve checks in every now and then, poking his head out of the bathroom’s doorway to look at you and make sure you’re doing alright, giving you a thumbs up when you look over to him.

You’re not sure how you’d be managing this if you were alone, and you’re thankful that you don’t have to.

The next time he checks on you, you’re by your nightstand.

Sitting atop of it is a framed picture of you and Steve from summer camp when you were around ten years old, maybe younger. Only now, the picture’s stained with water and the frame you’d decorated all those years ago at camp is a splotchy mess.

Where yours and Steve’s handwriting used to be, is now a blur from the water seeping into the wooden frame, the marker’s colors muddy. You frown, picking it up and running your thumb over the edge.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re tearing up, frustrated and sad and tired. Memories like this one are the most special to you, the ones that have kept you going for so long, and just like that, the picture that’s sat on your nightstand since being taken is gone, and it fucking sucks.

“Hey, angel?” Steve calls.

When all you do is sniffle and mumble an “mhm?” in response, he sets the box he’d been packing on the bathroom counter and walks over to you.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your upper-arms and peering over your shoulder at the ruined picture.

“It was my favorite one,” you say, voice breaking a little. You wipe your tear away as it trails down your cheek, your own fingertips too harsh against your skin.

Although it’s soaked and splotchy now, Steve knows which picture it is. The one where you’ve both got your neon summer camp t-shirts on, the one where his cheeks and nose are completely sunburnt and you’re both grinning up at the camera from your seats on the ground.

Steve’s clutching a stick in his hand for some reason, and you’ve got your fist tangled in the sleeve of his shirt.

It feels like no time and forever has passed since then.

Steve grabs the picture and pries it gently from your hands, setting it back onto the table and turning you around in his grip to face him.

“We can fix it,” he tells you, his brown eyes all soft as his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping your tears away.

“But the frame-”

“We’ll fix it, angel. I’ll find a way, okay? We can pack it in one of the boxes and figure it out.”

“Steve-”

“Look at me,” he urges you when your gaze flickers to the ground. You listen. “This fucking sucks, I know it does, but you’re strong and I’m here, and we can handle this.”

His voice is quiet, but sure. You search his face for any trace of a lie and find none. He really believes what he’s saying, and he really believes in you.

“Thank you for being here.” You take a deep breath and drop your forehead against the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry for crying. I know it’s kinda stupid. Most of this is replaceable, it’s just-”

“It’s not stupid,” he says, letting his chin rest atop your head. “You’re allowed to cry. Hell, I’d probably be kicking and screaming on the floor like I'm back in the terrible twos.”

You laugh wetly into his shirt.

“Now,” he says, pulling back and putting his hands on his hips, “the quicker we pack, the quicker we go home. I’ll even let you wear a pair of my good fuzzy socks.”

A smile tugs at your mouth. “Deal.”

-

Steve wouldn’t let you do much of the work after that.

Instead, he simply held up items for you to assess from where you’d been leaning against the wall and packed it into a box if it was a ‘yes,’ or tossing it aside dramatically just to try and get you to laugh if it was a ‘no.’

Once things were sorted through and packed, you loaded everything into Steve’s car—which wasn’t a whole bunch, considering how much you had to leave behind.

You’d refused to let Steve carry the boxes all on his own, though he tried, but he still managed to open the doors for you whenever you made it to his car, even when his own hands were full, too.

By the time you were finished, you were drained. It felt like you’d lived multiple days in the one. An eight hour shift opening at the store, then coming home to a wrecked apartment. All you wanted to do was shower and lay down and not get back up.

Steve knows you well enough to be able to tell when it’s time to fill the silence and when it isn’t, and on the drive back to his place, while your head was leaned against his window, he knew to stay quiet and give you a bit of space.

He turned the radio on, but not too loud, letting the songs hum through the speakers. At every stop sign, he reached over and gave your thigh a light squeeze. Reassuring, kind, somehow exactly what you needed at the moment. Nothing more, nothing less.

You were no stranger to the Harrington’s house, having been there countless times since you were little, but it feels more intimidating now, knowing you’ll be staying. You feel silly for being worried, but you are. Asking for help makes you feel like a burden.

Steve, however, doesn’t let you entertain that thought for long, parking in his driveway and jogging around to open the passenger door for you. “Honey, we’re home!”

“Dork,” you say, though you accept his hand and let him tug you up out of the car.

Grabbing the first couple of boxes, Steve leads you inside and upstairs, right to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom. The closest one to him.

The house has at least two guest rooms, though you suppose with how little Steve's parents are around, you could consider there to be three. Three spare rooms and Steve puts you up in the nearest one possible. It makes your heart squish in your chest, how caring he is. He doesn’t even have to try, really, the goodness in him shows even when he tries to keep it hidden.

It only takes a few trips down to his car and back before all of your boxes are stacked against the wall. You decide you’ll deal with them later.

Steve runs over to his room and grabs a set of pajamas that you’d left there, and hands them to you. “I figured you’d wanna wash up.”

“You calling me smelly, Harrington?”

“Shut up, I think you smell nice. Usually.”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing, angel.” He ruffles your hair. You swat his hand away. “You know where the bathroom is, and there should be soap and stuff in the shower already. Just yell if you need something, okay?”

You do know where the bathroom is. You have your own toothbrush in a cup by the sink, a set of travel-sized skin care products in the cupboard behind the mirror for whenever you end up staying over.

It’s funny, you’ve always felt more at home here than at your own parents house, and though he hasn’t said it to you, Steve much prefers this house when you’re in it. There’s a warmth that comes with your presence that makes him ache when it’s not around.

You nod, “Thank you again for letting me stay, Steve. I won’t be in the way, promise.”

“I want you in the way. You know you’re always welcome. This is no different.” He shrugs, “Plus, it’ll be nice having you around. Place always feels so empty when it’s just me.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay forever, then,” you say, tone light and joking.

Steve, completely serious, says, “I’d let you.”

There’s a zip that goes through you when he says it, quick as lightning, something you’ve never felt—or noticed, rather—around him. It throws you off just a little.

“Anyways,” Steve cuts your thoughts short, “I’ll let you get settled. Pizza will be waiting for you when you’re done.”

He leaves the room before you can thank him again, his footsteps retreating and heading downstairs.

You’ve been to his house a million times, so you don’t really feel the need to ‘get settled’ but you desperately need a shower so that’s where you go.

You stay in for longer than you need to, letting the too-hot water run down your neck and back.

When you finally do step out of the bathroom, now clad in your pajamas, and head downstairs, Steve’s sitting on the couch in the living room, the romcoms he owns sitting out in front of the TV for you to choose from, your favorite blanket resting on your side of the couch, and pizza boxes on the coffee table just as promised.

It’s the best thing in the world, you think, to have a friend like Steve.

-

You’ve been staying at Steve’s for a couple of days already, and time seems to fly by a little quicker when you’re there, especially when you’re around him.

He’s taken it upon himself to have coffee ready in the pot for you every morning, one of your favorite mugs already next to it on the counter. You’ve cooked breakfasts together (pancakes one day, where you’d done most of the work, or something simple as toast when you both have to get to work), ordered dinners, and Steve comes home from his shifts with a new movie to watch almost every day.

It’s been so nice. Almost perfect, actually.

This morning, the first day where your shifts happen to be at the exact same time, he’d even insisted on driving you to work. It was an easy yes, considering it wasn’t out of his way at all.

After a short stint of working together at the grocery store in ninth grade, and your subsequent firing from the job after a month of constantly distracting each other on the clock, Tim, the grocery manager, took it upon himself to warn Hawkins not to hire the both of you together.

Eventually, you’d taken the closest you could get which resulted in you working at the arcade and Steve next door at Family Video.

You share a parking lot. Steve already drives you to work most days. You like to put up a bit of a fight just to annoy him.

Though you haven’t worked together in years, and he isn’t far away by any means, you miss having Steve around on days like this. Where the arcade is quiet save for the sounds of the games in the background, where you’re simply babysitting the desk and cleaning things multiple times to try and make the hours pass by.

If Steve were with you, he’d make stupid jokes that you don’t wanna laugh at but do, or coerce you into playing the games while on the clock with the change you find whenever you’re cleaning.

He’d probably trash talk you, and bump your hip with his while playing pinball, and be a sore loser, and for some reason you want him around so bad.

You chalk it up to getting used to spending hours and hours with him, every single day, these past couple of days. Staying with him has made you miss him more, you think.

That’s it.

Meanwhile, over at Family Video, Steve isn’t feeling too different from you.

He’s spent the morning stocking shelves, memories popping into his head whenever he’d come across a movie you loved or watched together, while Robin’s been manning the desk.

Then, when his cart was empty and put back into the back room, he sat on the chair behind the front desk, spinning around until Robin stopped him with her foot and asked what he was thinking so hard about.

Steve caught her up on what had happened with your apartment (you’d told him he could tell her, because she’s your friend too and would find out sooner or later) and how you’d ended up staying with him in his house.

She raised her eyebrows and hummed in a way that was automatically suspicious, because Robin isn’t very good at hiding things.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Nothing.” When Steve only gives her a pointed look, Robin continues, “Well… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Now, Robin is one of Steve’s closest friends, and him one of hers, and she supports him in pretty much everything that he does even when she teases him relentlessly along the way, but she cares about both of you and doesn’t want to see anyone hurt.

She can read Steve better than he can read himself, probably, because to Robin, it’s clear that he feels more than friendly towards you. And he doesn’t even know it.

When they became closer, it was clear to Robin, even before meeting you, just from the way Steve spoke of you, that there was a spot reserved for you in his life that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

He would say it’s that of ‘best friend’ but Robin would call it something even bigger than that. Still, even though she thinks he’s an absolute dingus, she’s trying to let Steve figure it out for himself.

Clearly, it’s taking fucking forever.

He looks confused at her question, “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

Robin sighs and resists the urge to drop her forehead against the desk and decides on, “You know what they say: become friends with your roommates, don’t become roommates with your friends.”

“Whoever they are, they’re dumb as shit,” Steve says. “She’s been over, slept over, hundreds of times. It’s not any different, just longer.”

“I guess so,” she settles on. “The rules of the world never really seem to apply to you two.”

“That’s because the rules of the world are also dumb as shit.”

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve ever tried following them.”

“‘Cause I’m a rule breaker, Robs.”

Steve wiggles his eyebrows. Robin shoves the rolling chair he’s sitting on with her foot, sending it into the other side of the desk with a thud.

“Don’t think that smoking weed in your backyard is enough to call yourself a rule breaker, dingus.”

-

That night, your routine was pretty much the same.

Steve was already waiting for you in his car when you left the arcade, a smile spreading onto his face when he saw you making your way across the parking lot to him, your skirt swishing a little with the breeze.

Rather than go straight home, you made a stop at your apartment to talk things over with the couple who owned the home. They’d met with a builder and plumber about getting everything fixed and wanted to walk you through it all.

Steve came with you and held your hand, and both of them cooed at him and pinched his cheeks and called him a cutie before getting to the important stuff.

After going over what had to be done (rip out the carpet, replace it, fix the pipes and make sure no others were at risk, replace the ceiling, and more you couldn’t even remember already), they’d assured you that they would be taking care of it all. Covering the entire cost.

You probably would’ve argued if not for how little money was in your bank account, and how stubborn you knew these people to be. Instead, you’d squeezed them both and thanked them while your eyes grew misty with tears.

Steve’s hand stayed in yours and squeezed when you sniffled.

He knew, because he knew pretty much everything about you, that these people were kinder to you than even your own parents. That, if this had happened at their house, they would’ve found a way to blame you for it.

You feel lucky to have found that kind of parental love elsewhere, sad that you didn’t know exactly what it felt like beforehand.

After giving the couple Steve’s phone number to call in case they needed you and giving them both another hug, you and Steve headed back home.

Home, you call it. Like it’s yours.

Sometimes it feels like it is.

Later, after you and Steve have both showered and had dinner and gotten comfy in your sweats, you’re back in the living room, Steve shows you the movie he’s brought back this time.

“Gremlins?” You ask, smiling and shaking your head.

“Hell yeah, angel. It’s a classic.”

Steve sets everything up, joining you on the couch after pressing ‘play’ on the movie and adjusting the volume with your guidance.

“So, how was work?” Steve asks during the opening credits. The two of you have a hard time being next to each other and not talking. It’s why you get dirty looks whenever you go to the movies.

“Weekdays are so boring, Steve,” you say, letting your head fall against the back of the couch. “You’re so lucky you have Robin to entertain you during the day. I think I dusted like, ten times at least.”

“Robin is a pain in my ass.” He says. He doesn’t really mean it, because even when she is, he’s glad to have her around. A different kind of gladness than he feels with you. “She kept pushing me every time I sat in the rolling chair. There’s probably a dent in the desk.”

“That’s because you were probably hogging the chair, Steve.”

“What the fuck!” Steve’s smiling when he says it, lacking any sort of anger. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Your smile mirrors his, the way it always does. It’s contagious, you think, the way his eyes crinkle at the corner.

Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know, I’d wanna push you around on that chair too, I think.”

“You’d spin me too much. I’d get sick all over you and then nobody’s happy.”

“Don’t talk about barf while I’m eating, Harrington.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at him. It bounces off his cheek and lands on his lap, and he doesn’t even flinch. Steve just picks it up and pops it into his mouth.

When the bowl’s empty, you lean forward and set it on the coffee table before sinking back into the couch, Steve's shoulder brushing yours. You let the warmth seep through your clothes and shut your eyes.

It’s a little more than halfway through the movie when Steve realizes you’re asleep. You’d been quiet, sure, but Steve only thought that meant you were paying attention to the movie.

That was, until your head slipped and rested against his shoulder.

He looked down at you, at the hair falling across your forehead (he smoothed it away gently, so it wouldn’t be in your eyes or your mouth), your eyebrows relaxed and free of any worry, your chest rising and falling with steady breaths.

He thinks of how tired you must be, after everything. Your apartment and dealing with the aftermath both emotionally and physically, working long shifts most days to keep your bank account full.

Steve, though he doesn’t let himself look too deep into it, also thinks of how beautiful you are. Now and always.

Not wanting you to get a kink in your neck from the position, Steve decides to rouse you from sleep as gently as possible. He slips a hand under your head to keep it steady and maneuvers himself to kneel in front of you.

“Hey, angel,” he almost whispers, thumb dragging across your cheek. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

Your nose scrunches and you grumble, but after some coaxing, you blink your eyes open and squint at Steve. You blame your half-asleep mind on the way you nuzzle into his palm. “Hmm?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble.

Steve laughs softly. “Don’t be sorry, I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

The warmth of his hand leaves your cheek as he stands and holds his hands out for you to grab. He pulls you up off the couch and starts leading you towards the stairs.

You knuckle at your eyes on the way, a tiny smile gracing your face at how sweet Steve’s being. As if you haven’t fallen asleep on his couch plenty of times before.

Still sleepy, you stumble a little on the stairs, but Steve catches you easily with an arm around your waist and a small “Careful.”

He leaves his arm there the rest of the way to what’s become your bedroom, guiding you over to the bed and lifting the covers for you.

Tomorrow, you’ll regret not brushing your teeth or washing your face before climbing in bed. But today, you don’t feel like risking not being able to sleep again if you wake yourself up further.

You’re practically asleep again by the time you’re settled with your head on the pillow as Steve tugs the blankets over you.

You’re just awake enough to feel the light press of his lips on your forehead and a soft “Goodnight, angel” against your skin before he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

-

On a random Thursday that you and Steve both have off, he convinces you to let him take you to the mall.

“We should go shopping,” he says when you walk into the kitchen. It’s a little later in the morning, having slept in since it’s a day off, the sun slipping through the window in warm beams.

You raise your eyebrows at him. “Like, groceries?”

“No, like shopping shopping. You know, the mall?”

You lean against the kitchen island, the countertop cool on your back where it touches the sliver of skin between your tank top and sleep shorts. Steve has his shoulder against the fridge, his arms crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his muscles. Not that you’re looking.

You squint at him, trying to find his motive on his face. “You literally buy whatever the mannequins are wearing to avoid shopping.”

“That’s what they’re there for!” The sass in his voice has you biting back a smile. “You need new clothes,” he continues, “and I need to get out of this house.”

“We can do something else, Steve,” you say. “I thought you hated shopping.”

“Well, I don’t hate you.” There’s a pause, Steve’s eyes lowering to that sliver of skin above your shorts. He flicks them back to your face quickly, hoping you didn’t notice, because even he’s not sure what compelled his eyes to wander. “Plus, Eddie called me a hermit the other day and I really can’t stand for that, can I?”

“Ohhh,” you ignore the way your skin suddenly feels warm beneath his gaze, “so you need to make a public appearance to prove Eddie wrong?”

“Exactly. We’ll replace some of the things you lost and restore my reputation. Two birds, one stone, right angel?”

So that’s how you’d ended up at the mall. After Starcourt burnt down, the closest place was a couple towns over, and Steve (as always) offered to drive.

He lets you pick the music the entire way, sings along when you hold your water bottle by his mouth like a microphone, even attempts to harmonize with you which just ends in laughter because neither of you sounded that great.

You’re a couple of stores in, and Steve’s been complaint-free so far—which makes sense, since this was his idea, but you’ve caught him side-eyeing some things, so you know he’s got some remarks in his head he just hasn’t said out loud—and follows you around as you browse. You try not to take too long, because you can’t imagine that this is any fun for him.

“How about that one?” Steve asks, pointing at one of the dresses hanging along the store’s wall.

He’d seen your apartment, though that was a bit ago, and he remembered what you’d lost the most of, along with the type of stuff you like. He pays attention like that, in small, quiet ways that you think mean the most.

He knows you. He cares enough to know you.

“Yeah, that’s really pretty, actually,” you admit.

At your approval, Steve grabs one in your size (which he also just happens to know) and adds it to the couple of things he’d already been holding for you. Every time you picked something up, he was quick to snatch it from you, telling you it was ‘too hard to browse with your hands full.’

After making your way through the rest of the store, you decided to head back to try things on, holding out a hand for the stuff Steve’s holding. “You can wait out here, I’ll be quick.”

“Hold on,” he says, holding the hangers out of your reach. “Why do you think I’m here, angel? I wanna help you pick.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. Give me a fashion show, yeah?”

“Oh my God,” you mumble, letting him follow you to the fitting rooms.

They’re hidden behind the back wall of the store, a hallway painted bright blue with pink changeroom doors on one side, and white benches along the other.

“Hi there,” an employee with auburn hair greets you both, her smile wide and kind, though you know it’s a practiced one. Customer service smile. “How many you got there, darling?”

“Oh, um,” you turn back towards Steve, who’s counting the hangers in his hand. “Five.”

“Perfect!” The girl takes the key hanging around her neck and unlocks one of the rooms for you. She takes the clothes from Steve and hangs them up inside for you, then turns to the two of you and says, “Your man can have a seat right here. We call them the ‘boyfriend benches.’”

“He’s not my-”

“Thanks,” Steve says, cutting off your correction because for some reason he didn’t want you to correct her.

Did he… like the idea of being your boyfriend?

Fuck. No. He just didn’t want you to have to explain the whole situation in your rambly way. That’s all.

The redhead smiles again, “Holler if you need anything,” she says before walking off.

You stand there for a second, something like confusion on your face. Did it look like you were boyfriend and girlfriend?

“Come on,” Steve says, snapping the both of you out of whatever that was. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“I can't believe you’re making me do this,” you say, walking into the fitting room and shutting the door.

You try on a couple of sweaters first, and Steve feels the fabric both times, making sure that it’s not scratchy on your skin. Then, there’s just some basic t-shirts that aren’t all that exciting, but Steve says they look nice anyway.

Finally, you get to the dress he picked out.

It really was pretty. A midi-length with a ruffled hem and straps that tie into little bows on your shoulders. You don’t always feel good in your clothes. Sometimes you wish you could crawl out of your skin when you look into the mirror, but right now, you don’t hate what you see.

You actually like it.

“Well?” Steve calls softly from the bench.

In response, you open the door and step out so he can see you.

Steve’s seen you in plenty of dresses—hell, you went to prom together—but for some reason this one makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker. Maybe it’s simply the fact that it looks great on you, or the way you’re smiling shyly as he looks you over.

Or, maybe it’s because he’s the one who picked it.

He stands up, spinning his finger in the air in a gesture for you to twirl. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. The hallway of fitting rooms isn’t very big, so with both of you in it, you’re standing toe to toe, the gold flecks in the middle of Steve’s eyes and the faint freckles that dot his nose are visible from where you stand.

As if he can’t help it, Steve lifts a finger and dips it beneath the strap on your shoulder. Not moving it or undoing it, just gliding along your skin where it sits.

“You look beautiful,” he says. His voice goes all quiet and soft when he says it, and his eyes widen a tiny bit, like he hadn’t meant it to slip out that way. It sounded… more than friendly. He clears his throat and steps back as much as he can in the small space, his finger leaving your skin. “I have great taste. Clearly.”

You blink at him, then shake yourself out of it as much as you can. “Yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” You lift the tag where it hangs by your armpit and look at the price. You gasp and swat Steve’s arm. “Steve! Why would you let me walk into a place so expensive?”

You probably should’ve looked at the tag beforehand, but here you are. Steve, shrugging exaggeratedly, says, “I didn’t know!”

“Okay, I’m gonna change before she comes back. We can make a run for it.”

“We’re not stealing.”

“I know, but they look at you all judgemental when you try stuff on and don’t buy something. Trust me.”

You turn and go back into the fitting room to put on your own clothes, taking a look at the dress in the mirror one last time before shaking your head at yourself.

Steve, however, takes the opportunity to leave you and head back out into the store. He finds the dress easily and grabs another one in your size from the rack and heads to the cashier.

He’s just finishing up, bag in hand, when you walk out and meet him at the front of the store.

“For you,” he says, holding out the bag for you to take.

“Steve…” You grab it and look inside. Your chest aches when you see the dress, your heart suddenly too full and your stomach fluttering stupidly. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine with something from the Gap.”

“I know that,” he says, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck. It’s a nervous tick of his, and the thought of him being nervous right now makes you melt even more. “I wanted to get it for you. You looked too pretty in it not to have it.”

Your eyes catch his, and again, something passes between you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before. A fizzle, a spark.

You rock back on your feet, looking down at the ground before meeting his eyes again. They’re so fucking soft it makes you wonder how lucky you have to be to have him in your life. Being your best friend, driving you to work even when he doesn’t have a shift, offering you a place to stay, buying you a dress.

He’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever known.

“Well,” you twist the straps of the bag around your fingers just to keep them busy. “Thank you, Steve. This is really nice.”

His knuckle traces down your arm just once, featherlight. “You’re welcome, angel.”

You don’t buy anything else after that, instead stopping at the food court for fries, stealing from each other’s baskets, smiling and slapping hands away.

It’s the best day you’ve had in a while.

-

You don’t think anything you do will convey just how grateful you are that Steve has been so kind to you. Always, but especially now. Letting you stay with him and refusing to let you pay rent. (“I don’t even pay rent, and I live here all the time.”)

But, this morning, you’ve decided you’re gonna try.

Steve’s favorite meal of the day happens to be breakfast, which is funny, considering he usually eats something as simple as cereal. He’d told you once that it was because, as a kid, breakfast was the most peaceful of meals, his parents too busy getting ready for work or wherever they were going that he’d have the kitchen table to himself.

Lunch was usually spent at school, and Steve was never a fan of school to begin with. Then there was dinner, which his parents (when they were home) still wanted to have all together. They’d ask him questions and make backhanded comments about every single answer he gave. He never won at dinner.

So, breakfast was, and has remained, his favorite.

You made sure to get up early enough to give yourself time to get everything ready before he wakes up. Steve’s usually the one making the coffee in the morning, and you figured the least you could do was give him a break.

Yesterday, while Steve had been at work, you went over to the Wheeler’s and asked Nancy if you could borrow their waffle maker. She’d directed the question to her mother, who went and grabbed it for you and handed it over with a smile. You promised to take good care of it and have it back in a couple of days.

By the time Steve walks into the kitchen, you’ve already made the batter and set out the toppings—berries, maple syrup, whipped cream—like a buffet. However, he just so happens to come in as you’re swearing at the waffle maker.

“Stupid fucking thing,” you mutter, trying to open it.

Steve smiles to himself before saying, “Morning, angel.”

You jump at his voice, not having heard him walk in. When you turn around, your heart beats for a different reason.

Steve’s still only in his pajama pants, plaid and soft, hanging low on his hips. And he’s shirtless, his chest smattered with hair and his skin a little tanned from the sun. He’s got beauty marks all over, like a constellation you could chart, and his abs are just visible beneath the soft of his stomach. A trail of hair leading to the waistband of his pants and disappearing beneath them.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless plenty of times. Swimming and sleeping over in the summer, in high school when you used to go to his practices, but it hits you harder for some reason this time.

The way his hair is still a mess from sleep, his eyes a bit heavy. The way it feels to be greeting him in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Intimate. Domestic.

You clear your throat and turn back around to pry the waffle maker open, revealing a slightly burnt but otherwise good-looking waffle. “I’m making breakfast. Coffee’s already in the pot, too.”

He walks over, his chest close to your back as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above you before heading over to pour himself a cup. He looks at the spread you’ve prepared, “Waffles, huh? What did I do to deserve all this?”

“Just wanted to do something nice for you,” you say as Steve walks over to lean against the counter next to you, his hip barely touching yours. “To thank you, in a way. For letting me stay and the dress and-”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me?” He says, though his voice is soft and still a bit rough from sleep. “I like having you around.”

“So you don’t want the waffles then?”

“Oh, I want the waffles. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s not some debt you’ll owe me, angel.”

“Want you to know I appreciate you is all,” you say, pouring a new scoop of batter into the waffle maker.

Steve, unsure of what exactly possesses him to do so, dips in and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek, his lips a whisper away from your skin when he says, “I appreciate you, too.”

Then he pulls away and moves to set the table. Like it was natural.

And it was, in a way. How you moved around each other in the kitchen. You leaning out of the way when he needed to reach something you were blocking, him putting a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you so you knew he was there.

Your cheek still tingles from where he’d kissed it when you bring the plate of waffles to the table, your skin somehow even warmer under his gaze, like he’s still remembering exactly how it felt, too.

You sit in the chair beside Steve, not noticing the way he tugs it a bit closer to him with his foot before you sit down. Soon enough, both of you are digging in. Steve’s got more whipped cream on his plate than waffle (you tell him as much) and you’ve got your berries on the side the way you always do.

Neither of you work until later in the day, and it’s nice knowing that you can take your time. Steve tells you about the advice he gave Dustin about how to be ‘cooler’ in school (he’d told him that being cool is completely overrated, he knew from experience, and that being himself is the most important). You’d told him he was going soft with age.

You talk about anything at all. How Keith somehow manages both of your places of work, how he also somehow does both terribly. The way he says ‘if you have time to lean, you have time to clean’ while literally having Cheeto dust on his fingers. Laughing at each other’s impressions of him.

What the new highscores were at the arcade, what people were renting from Family Video.

You wonder what it’ll be like when you have to leave. When you’re living alone again.

Logically, you know you’ll still see Steve frequently, because he’s your favorite person and you can’t remember the last time you went longer than a few days without hanging out. Still, it’ll be different than right now, waking up in the same space and sharing breakfast and brushing your teeth side by side in the mirror.

You’ll miss it, you think.

Trying not to dwell on something that’s still a few weeks away, you take another bite of your waffle. Steve catches your chin and wipes off a bit of whipped cream from the corner of your mouth, then pulling away and sucking it off his thumb.

He goes back to his own plate without a thought. Like touching you just now was an instinct.

Then, he teases you, “These are a little crispy, angel. Maybe you should stick to letting me make breakfast in this household.”

You kick his leg under the table. “That’s a funny way of saying ‘thank you,’ Harrington.”

He kicks you back, much gentler than you’d been. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When you look at him, there’s an easy, boyish smile on his face.

A similar one stretches across your own lips.

-

Steve has had the thought pop up into his head a couple of times, that maybe he should’ve just asked you to live with him before you ever bought that apartment. Because having you around feels the most right things have ever felt in his house.

And though the circumstances of your moving in with him (temporarily, he has to remind himself), were far from ideal, he can’t lie and say that he isn’t glad that you’ve ended up sharing his space.

The room across the hall will always be yours, even when you move back to your place.

He knows that you feel indebted to him for all of it, but if anyone owes the other something, he feels like it’s him. For everything you’ve ever done for him. Sticking around even when he was an asshole in highschool, defending him to his parents whenever you’d cross paths, simply being the kind of friend he needed.

Even when you’re not around, he can picture your face, the way your smile spreads slowly until you’re fucking beaming. Worse, the way you cried into his chest that day at your apartment.

He remembers the crack in your voice when you spoke about that picture frame from summer camp. Though he hasn’t seen you cry since, or even bring it up, he’s decided he wants to fix it. He’d told you he would.

Dustin wound up roped into his plan: find a similar frame, decorate it the exact same way, and scour the photo albums in Steve’s room for his copy of that same picture.

When he was younger, the photo albums pissed him off, because they were purely for show. Pictures of his family that were all fake smiles. Now, he’s glad for them, because at least he has some good memories to look back on. To know it wasn’t always all bad.

Steve probably should’ve thought that one through, because when they looked through his albums, he was on the receiving end of relentless teasing from Dustin. (“Dude, you have an insane boogie in this picture.” “I was four!”)

He hopes it’ll be worth it.

Dustin was the one who found the picture they’d been looking for, and he cheered and waved it in Steve’s face as if they’d been racing.

Now, after driving Dustin back home, decorating the frame the way the two of you did as kids, trying to make his handwriting look like it did back then (which wasn’t too difficult, ‘cause Steve’s writing still isn’t that neat), he’s waiting for you to come downstairs before giving it to you.

He’d picked you up after your shift at the arcade not too long ago, but he knows you like to shower and change as soon as you get home from work, so he’d taken the opportunity to wrap the frame and have it ready for you.

Steve can hear you singing in the shower, and he knows you’re done when it goes quiet. A few minutes later you’re walking down the stairs in a baggy t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.

His eyes, for some reason, linger on your legs for a second.

He stands up, frame in his hand, when you walk over. “I have something for you.”

“Steve! Stop buying me things. Seriously.”

“This thing was free, so you can’t even be mad,” he says, smiling almost sheepishly.

Your eyes search his face, flickering between his own and dipping down to his lips and his nose and back to his eyes. He looks… nervous.

Steve’s never nervous around you.

“Okay,” you say, shuffling on your feet. “What is it?”

“Here,” he hands you the poorly-wrapped frame. “Open it.”

You scrunch your brows at him once, because you have no idea what it could be. It isn’t your birthday, or any sort of holiday at all. With zero guesses, you look down at the light yellow wrapping paper in your hands and slowly tear it open.

What you find makes your eyes grow misty, tears pooling at your lash line but not quite falling.

It’s your favorite picture, the one of you and Steve in those stupid neon shirts with messy hair and dirt on your hands. Only now, it’s not water damaged, and the frame is new, but decorated just like the old one. You run your thumbs over the glass lightly, smiling down at little you and little Steve.

When you look back up at him, he’s already looking at you, his brown eyes all warm, his smile kind but also worried, waiting for your reaction.

Seeing his face springs you into motion, jumping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck tightly with the frame still in your hand. “Thank you,” you say into his skin.

Steve’s arms move to hold you around your waist without a thought. A reflex. They squeeze you close to him, his nose pressed into your damp hair, smelling your shampoo.

“It’s not perfect,” he says. “But I know how much you love that picture, and I wanted to fix it.”

“Steve. Shut up. It is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he says, his thumbs running back and forth against your back.

You hug for what could’ve been minutes, but neither of you moves to pull away first. You’re not sure if it’s still considered friendly to stand in each other's arms, breathing each other in, for so long, but you don’t care at the moment.

This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s done for you in a long, long time.

When you finally do pull away, you don’t go far. Your arms stay slung over his shoulders, Steve’s hands framing your hips. His thumbs still dragging those sweet patterns against you.

“I’m keeping it forever,” you tell him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Certain. You’ll always be my best friend, Steve.”

“You’ll always be mine too, angel.”

Then, your eyes both move to each other’s lips, yours flick back up in a second, startled at their wandering.

Steve, however, is a bit transfixed. He looks at the slope of your cupid’s bow, the way your lips are shiny from your lip balm. He thinks it quickly, like a gust of wind that can’t be stopped: I really wanna kiss her right now.

Fuck. He wants to kiss his best friend.

He blinks a few times, clearing his throat and pulling back, letting his hands fall from your waist as yours slide off his shoulders. He misses the feel of your touch immediately, but he’s too freaked out and confused to do anything about it.

“What are you in the mood for tonight?” he asks, cutting off his own thoughts. “I brought back a horror and a comedy. Take your pick.”

“Mmm,” he picks up two tapes from the coffee table and holds them up for you to choose from. “Horror. Unless you’re too scared?”

“You’ll just have to hold my hand, then, won’t you?”

“I guess I will.”

You look back at the picture while Steve puts the movie into the player. You smile at it every time you see it, because you can still see parts of Steve in him now that were in him then.

His eyes, always kind, the way he smiles when he laughs, and about a half hour into the movie, the way he holds your hand and squeezes it when he’s scared.

-

You’re having one of those nights. The kind where sleep seems to be fighting you.

You worked a closing shift at the arcade, which usually lasts until late considering how long you’re open plus all of the cleaning you have to do afterwards. Today was no different, and despite how much later you finish than him at Family Video, Steve waited and drove you home. He hung out in the arcade with you until close, actually.

You’d think that after such a long day, the second your head hit the pillow you’d be out and breathing steadily. Today, that is not the case. You fell asleep for maybe an hour before a nightmare woke you up. You can’t quite remember what happened, only that you’d been yelling for Steve and he wasn’t there.

Groaning quietly, you rub your eyes and toss the blankets away. You stand up and head down to the kitchen in the dark, hand trailing along the walls to make sure you don’t bump into anything.

Just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of water, you hear the shuffle of sleepy footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” he says, walking over to grab a glass, one hand on his bare chest. “I thought you were a ghost or something just now.”

You shift out of the way to let him get some water just like you did, taking the second that he’s distracted to look at him. His hair a mess, wearing nothing but his boxers. You take a big sip from your glass.

“I feel like I should be offended right now,” you say, “if you think I look like a ghost.”

“Shut up,” he says, dragging out the second word. His voice being rough from sleep makes his words sound much warmer than they are. “My eyes aren’t awake yet. Nothing to do with you, angel.”

You shake your head, though there’s a soft smile on your face the way there always seems to be when you try to be annoyed with Steve. You tilt your head at him, asking, “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shakes his head. “Been tossing and turning. Just can’t get comfortable, then I got pissed ‘cause I couldn’t get comfortable and only made it worse.”

“You would get pissed at that. Probably slapped your pillow like it was at fault.”

He folds his lips inwards and blinks at you. Because he did smack his pillow and call it a dipshit. “Why do you know everything? Spying on me?”

“Hate to say it, but you’re getting predictable, Harrington.” You shrug, then move to put your now empty glass in the dishwasher. “I know you too well.”

He looks at you, your hair falling across your shoulders, your pajama shorts riding up a little as you bend down. The moonlight slipping through the window seems to hit you perfectly. Like a halo.

Fitting, he thinks. You’re his angel, after all.

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees. Then, “What about you? Why’re you up?”

“Nightmare. Been forever since I had one.”

“You okay?” he asks, trailing a knuckle over your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it.

“Yeah,” you say, skin tingling where he’d touched you. “I can't even remember most of it, but now my brain won’t let me sleep.”

Steve wishes he could’ve protected you from whatever haunted you in your sleep. It’s silly, he knows, to think he might be able to ward away anything that hurts you, but he wants to, nonetheless.

He thinks about how comfortable he is whenever you cuddle during movie night. Your head on his shoulder or his chest, his hand on your back or waist.

So, he blurts, “Why don’t you sleep over?”

You furrow your brows at him, “Um, I’ve been sleeping over. A couple of weeks now, actually.”

“No, I mean, like in my room with me,” he says, suddenly shy at the idea. He’s grateful for the darkness, because he can feel his cheeks warming up. “A proper sleepover.”

You’ve done it before. Shared a bed a bunch of times, but for some reason your heart jumps when he says it. Your stomach swirls as you say, maybe a little too quickly, “Okay.”

Steve’s eyes widen like he’s surprised, just for a split second, before a soft smile takes over his face. He holds out a hand for you to take, “C’mon.”

Soon enough, Steve’s lifting his navy bedspread for you, letting you slip into bed next to him. He stays further away at first, letting you settle and lay on your side the way he knows you always do.

You blame sleepiness—or, maybe, the lack thereof—for the way you reach behind you for his arm and tug him closer, draping it over your own waist.

He obliges, of course, his arm securing itself across your stomach, palm spread out and warm against your sleep shirt. His chest is only a breath away from your back, though he keeps his lower half a little more distanced.

His thumb runs circles over your shirt, once, twice, three times before stilling, his forehead pressing to the back of your neck.

“Goodnight, angel,” he says into your hair.

Your hand splays itself on top of his. “Night, Steve.”

And suddenly your eyes grow heavier, and sleep doesn’t feel like much of a battle anymore.

-

You wake up the most rested you’ve felt in a while. There’s warmth surrounding you, but not the uncomfortable kind. The kind that feels safe.

Somehow, you and Steve are even closer than you’d been when you fell asleep. His arm is still around your waist, his other outstretched and tucked beneath your head like a pillow. His chest is flush to your back, and you can feel it expand with every breath he takes.

Most differently of all, however, is the way his hips are snug against the curve of your butt. And you can feel him hard against you.

Your skin feels even warmer than before when you notice.

Steve hasn’t woken up yet, you don’t think, because the faintest snores are getting puffed out against your shoulder where his face is tucked. His hand on your stomach has worked its way beneath your shirt, though, and his fingertips press against your skin, like he’s fighting to keep you close.

As if you’d go anywhere even in your sleep.

His knee is tucked between your legs, and you’re quickly realizing that it’d be pretty impossible to get out of bed without him noticing. You’re completely tangled together, a knot of limbs somehow fitting together just right. Like two puzzle pieces.

In his sleep, Steve’s mouth presses against the back of your shoulder, and only when you involuntarily shiver at the contact, does he stir.

It takes Steve a bit to really wake up, mumbling words that don’t make sense, scrunching his eyes shut even further before blinking them open. He’s met with the sight of you right in front of him. Body curved perfectly against his.

“Steve? You awake?” you ask, checking.

“Mhm,” he hums.

Then, something that has his cheeks flushing pink, he registers the feeling of his boner pressed against your ass. He shuffles them back enough so there’s space between you. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say. Because he can’t control the way his body reacts while he’s asleep.

“I didn’t think-” he cuts himself off, because he’s not quite sure how to say I didn’t think about the whole morning wood factor or that I’d fucking plaster myself to you when I suggested a sleepover without sounding stupid. Instead, he just repeats, “I’m sorry.”

You twist yourself around to face him, sheets crumpling and twisting as you move. When you settle back onto the pillow and look at his face, at the redness on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, you squeeze his hand that’s now laying between you.

“It’s okay, really,” you say. “It’s, like, anatomy. You’re human, Steve.”

“I don’t want you to think I invited you to sleep in here for some pervy reason,” he says, scrunching his nose when he says it.

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell him. You squeeze his hand again. “We’ve shared a bed like, a hundred times by now. If anything I’m surprised this hasn’t happened already.”

“Oh my God,” he groans, shutting his eyes and pushing his face into the pillow.

“Steve,” you drag out his name, fighting a giggle at the way he’s acting. He’s got a reputation, after all, and how shy and embarrassed he seems to be doesn’t reflect the things you heard about him in high school. He’s changed a lot since then. “It’s seriously fine. We can pretend it never happened. Promise.”

Steve pulls his face from the pillow, eyes catching yours as his fingers squeeze yours back in appreciation. He lets his eyes wander a bit, at the messy bits of your hair around your face from sleeping, the marks in your cheek from the pillowcase, the way your sleep shirt has fallen off your shoulder.

He feels lucky to get to see you this way, right after you’ve woken up. Vulnerable, unguarded, beautiful.

It’s during this small stretch of silence that you realize how close your faces are now. You’re sharing a pillow, his nose not even an inch from yours. Shift forward the slightest bit, and they’d be touching. Your eyes trail down to his mouth, to the visible patch of chest hair and the freckles that dot his skin. He’s already looking right at you when your eyes flick back upwards.

You know Steve, could tell what he’s feeling just from the look on his face, but this is one you’ve never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

Steve moves first, his eyes a little darker than usual, shifting forward slightly, then looking at you. Daring you to make the next move.

“What if we didn’t forget about it?” he says. Quiet and scratchy.

You don’t have time to think before you move forward a bit, too. Your noses brush. “What would that mean?”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. Rather, he moves forward the final bit and brushes his lips against yours in a question mark of a kiss, giving you time to pull away.

You don’t.

Instead, the hand of yours that isn’t still holding his comes up to the back of his neck, gently encouraging him to do it again. His free hand tightens at your waist as he dips in a second time.

It isn’t as tentative now that you’ve urged him on. His lips meet yours more sure, more firm, but still soft against you. Neither of you cares one bit about morning breath, or about what this might change. As if the morning’s haze slows time, minds still a little sleepy.

You’re simply acting on instinct. And this feels too right to stop.

Soon enough it grows more heated, Steve shifting to hover over you, his elbows pushing into the mattress to hold himself up, his tongue sneaking out to lick against the seam of your lips for permission.

Just as you open up for him, the blaring sound of Steve's alarm cuts you off, pulling back with a gasp. He simply leans up on one arm and slams the snooze button—and you laugh, you laugh, at how hard he hits it—before diving back into you.

You feel hot all over, where one of Steve’s hands has moved to cup your jaw, his thumb running delicately against your face as his mouth moves against yours, practically devouring you. Where the blankets are still over your lower halves, trapping in heat. When he pulls back, looks into your eyes, fucking smiles all dopey and pretty, and then kisses you again.

It’s so good, you’re almost angry at yourself for not kissing him sooner.

You kiss until his alarm goes off again and Steve's forced to pry himself away from you, groaning about being on his ‘last tardy warning’ from Keith.

Still, he takes the time to kiss your forehead on his way out, Family Video vest slung over his shoulder, calling a sweet, “bye, angel,” on his way out. His hair’s still a mess from your fingers, and he doesn’t even seem to mind.

You stay in his bed longer than you probably should, blinking up at the ceiling, fingers pressed against your lips like you’re searching for physical proof that everything was real.

What the fuck just happened?

-

It’s been a couple of weeks, and Steve can’t stop thinking about that kiss. He doesn’t know it, but you can’t stop thinking about it either.

Neither of you have brought it up, and things have faded back to normal as if it had never happened. But you and Steve are both thinking the same things without knowing it. How good and natural and easy it felt, how, every now and then, you think about doing it again.

You talk and joke and watch movies and eat meals together the same way you always have, and it’d be so easy to stay that way, to never kiss again. But then, what if you could stay that way and kiss? Wouldn’t that be something close to perfect?

You lay awake thinking about it every few nights. Because, when you really reflect on your life and how intertwined it is with Steve’s, you realize that you’ve sort of always acted like a couple, minus the kissing and sex aspect. You go on what could easily be classified as dates—the movies, lunch or dinner—you cuddle on the couch almost nightly, and you’ve never shied away from physical touch with one another. Held hands, a palm on your back.

You haven’t brought it up with Steve because you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself. Feelings are so fucking confusing and messy and you’d like to have a better idea of what’s going on in your own head before asking him about his.

Meanwhile, Steve has allowed himself to come to terms with it. He’s in love with you.

He’s pretty sure he has been for a while. Months, maybe even years.

It hadn’t come easily, though. It was nights spent similarly to yours, running through interactions you’ve had and the way he felt that one time in senior year when you went on a date with some guy from your math class. Even then, a part of him felt wrong about it, that pit in his gut.

Then there were his shifts with Robin at Family Video where he’d practically spilled everything just to get her opinion. She looked up and sighed “thank you” before saying that it was nice of him to finally catch on.

Had he really been that obvious? All this time? And had he really been that oblivious to his own feelings?

Steve can’t answer those questions. He can’t say when his love for you changed from platonic to romantic, he just knows that it has and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come back from it.

You’re his best friend in the entire world, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and he can’t picture himself loving anyone but you so wholly.

He’s fucking terrified of losing you, but he’s also terrified of never telling you how he feels and testing that what if.

So, like a desperate idiot, he knocks on the door to Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie opens it after a minute and what sounded like him stubbing his toe, “oh, hey Harrington. More weed?”

“No, shut up. I need your help.”

“You,” Eddie points at Steve, then at himself, “need my help for something? Are you ill?”

“Okay,” Steve, dramatic and bitchy as usual, sighs and mutters something about this being a stupid idea and turns to leave.

“Come on,” Eddie laughs, “I’m just joking. What’s up?”

Soon enough, Steve’s sitting on Eddie’s couch, Eddie pacing in front of the coffee table like this is a very serious matter, and telling him pretty much everything. Your kiss, the train of thought it sparked.

“Basically I’m in love with her and I have no clue what to do,” Steve finishes, sinking back into the couch cushions. It squeaks as he shifts.

Eddie pauses, tugging at his bottom lip between his fingers, then looks at Steve and says, “You know I’ve never dated anyone in my life, right?”

Steve groans into his hands, “Why do all of my friends have to be losers with no dating lives.”

Eddie ignores that, because he can tell how affected Steve actually is by all of this. How much he cares. He walks over and sits down on the opposite end of the couch. “Have you ever thought of, I don’t know, telling her how you feel?”

Steve rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and letting his head hang for a moment before picking it up. “Of course I have, but I’m fuckin’ scared.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um, she could reject me and not feel the same way and everything would be awkward because I ruined it and I’d lose my best friend in the entire world.”

“What if she does feel the same?” Eddie asks.

He’s both yours and Steve’s friend, he’s been around the both of you together. He’s seen the way you look at each other. Eddie might not be an expert, but it’s always looked a lot like love to him. He’s pretty sure the chances of you feeling the same are quite high.

“What do you mean?”

“What if she does feel the same and you never figure it out because you’re too afraid?” Eddie says. “Man, don’t you think that risk is worth taking?”

Steve thinks about it, and as much as he hates to admit it, Eddie’s right. He’d hate to always wonder, to lose out on the chance to really be with you when he knows it could be so good.

You are worth the risk to him.

“When the fuck did you become so wise, Munson?”

“Dunno,” Eddie shrugs. “Wanna smoke?”

Steve laughs, “Yes I do.”

-

With Steve gone at work and you off for the day, there’s been too much room for your thoughts to creep in. Too much silence.

You’ve already been thinking about things so much. Thinking about him so much, that in his absence, your mind seemed to work overtime to fill in the gaps.

You thought about the day he picked you up from your apartment, how quick he was to drop whatever he’d been doing and come over and help you and take you home with him. The day he took you shopping and bought you a dress because he thought you looked pretty in it, the way his fingers fiddled with the strap on your shoulder when you tried it on for him.

The day he gifted you a remade version of your favorite picture from summer camp because he knew how much it meant to you, the way you held on to each other afterwards.

How you’d been waiting for him to get home that night he went to Eddie’s, just to make sure he was okay. How when he came in, he smiled at the sight of you curled on the couch, and he kissed your cheek when he walked by like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Your brain knew he was high, you could smell the weed mingling with his cologne on his clothes when he leaned in close, but your heart didn’t care about that. It thumped in your chest the second he leaned in closer, even worse when his lips touched your cheek.

The realization hits you now like a shock, a quick zip of electricity running through your system. You fucking love him.

Sure, you’ve loved Steve practically your whole life, but this was different. You love him, love him. Like, you want to kiss him when he comes home from work and in the morning. You want him to introduce you as his girlfriend and to be able to call him your boyfriend.

You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner, because looking back on things now, knowing how you feel, you can see it written throughout your entire friendship. Holding hands and kissing foreheads and hands pushing hair away from faces.

For a second, you’re purely happy, because you get to be in love with your best friend and it feels as warm and sweet as sunlight. Then, the fear creeps in, and you’re scared. Scared of losing him, of making things weird, of change and doing the wrong thing.

So scared that you start to panic and pack up some of your things in your bag like you’re running away.

Truthfully, you’re not sure what else to do. You’ve never been in love before, you’ve never known it this way—so kind and unconditional. And your parents sure as hell didn’t set a good example for you. They’d fight, and someone would leave with the slam of a door, and then they’d be back and the cycle would continue.

You’re scared and confused and your instincts are telling you to run away even though the only place you really wanna be is with Steve. In his arms.

You’re stuffing clothes into your bag just to keep your hands busy, breathing hard and fast, when you hear the front door open and close. Steve’s quick to find you, his eyes scanning your room and then looking at you. “What are you doing?”

You feel like you might cry just looking at him. His brown eyes worried but warm as always, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s nervous.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be home until later,” you say, hoping he can’t hear the shake in your voice.

“It was dead, so Keith let me off early. I-” Steve furrows his brows, “are you leaving?”

You nod. “I’ve been in your way long enough.”

“I told you, you’re never in my way.” Steve knows you, and he loves you, and he can tell that there’s something going on. That you’re panicked and trying to get away from whatever it is. He cares too much to let that happen. “I want you to stay.”

You want to stay, too. You just don’t know what comes next, and that unknown, the lack of control, of familiarity, it makes your hands shake.

Your mind doesn’t work the same when you’re afraid.

“Give me one good reason why I should stay, Steve. I’ve been taking up your space for weeks and-”

“Because I love you.” Steve cuts you off. He hadn’t planned on telling you this way, he wanted it to be romantic and perfect but he can’t wait any longer. Especially not when you’re trying to run away. “I’m in love with you. And I want you here.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, blinking up at him like you’re not sure you’d heard him correctly. “You- what?”

“I love you. Romantically. And I think I have for a really long time.”

“You’re not high again, are you?” You ask, your eyes a little misty.

Steve walks over to you and grabs both of your hands in his, making sure you’re looking at him, at the sincerity written all over his face, when he says, “Completely sober. I fucking love you and I want you to keep living with me, because this house doesn’t really feel like home unless you’re in it.”

“What about when my apartment is ready?”

He squeezes your hands. “Stay then, too. Stay forever.”

You look up at him, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes so honest, a tentative smile on his mouth. The only boy you’ve ever loved.

You feel silly for trying to escape this when this is how it’s turning out. Steve had been brave just now, telling you he loves you and he wants you to stay, so you decide to be brave, too.

It’s easier than you thought it would be to say: “I love you, too, Steve. I feel the same. I only just realized it and freaked out. I’m so scared of losing you, is all.”

“You won’t. Not ever.”

You tip your chin up to kiss him after he says it, because you can. You pour your feelings into it, and Steve returns your kiss as if it’s one he’s known for years. It’s slow, and deep, and sweet, and so full of love you’re practically overflowing with it.

The two of you only pull away when you need a breather. Steve doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against yours.

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Well, we’ve been acting like a couple for a while, I think, so we stay the same. Mostly. Except now I get to call you my girlfriend-”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to ask me first.”

He lets go of one of your hands and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckle running lovingly across your cheek. “My angel girl, will you be my girlfriend?”

Your grin is wide and lovesick and cheesy and you don’t care one bit. “Yeah, yes I will. Boyfriend.”

“And, being your boyfriend means I get to do this.”

He kisses you once more. And you don’t ever want to not be kissing him again.

𝜗𝜚

thank you guys so much for reading!!! it would mean a whole bunch if you would consider leaving a comment or a reblog and letting me know what you think!! it helps more than you know <3

[cherienymphe]

His Father's Son

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: After the untimely death of his father, Rafe takes it upon himself to become the man of the house.

warnings: NON-CON, STEPCEST, AGE GAP, mentions of major character death, depression, alcoholism, stepmom!reader, underage drinking, canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

⭑

The overwhelming feeling of being watched turned out to be true.

You flinched at the sight of the figure standing next to your bed, eerily still and eerily familiar in the darkness. Reason took over, and your heart started to slow just as quickly as it had started to race. You struggled to move, legs twisted within the sheets as you reached over to turn on the lamp. Sleep was still clinging to you, desperate to pull you back in, but you pushed it away with one look at Rafe’s face.

“It’s 8 o’clock,” was all he said in that tone you had never cared for.

Once his words actually registered though, you swallowed down the mild irritation that had threatened to bubble up. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you blinked, staring at him with parted lips before hurrying to search for your phone. When it bounced out of your unsteady hands and onto the floor, you cursed.

Sliding out of bed, you unfortunately confirmed that it was indeed 8 o’clock.

Now 8:03.

“Shit,” you breathed, pressing your hand to your forehead. “Um…”

You swiped your tongue between your lips, noting how dry they felt.

“Tell Wheezie-.”

“I already took Wheezie to school.”

The teenager’s words surprised you, and your hand fell, staring at him in a mixture of shock and shame. At those words, you finally registered the look on his face, and you found yourself thinking that his tone earlier made a lot more sense. You opened and closed your mouth, fighting to figure out how to respond. Unfortunately, you didn’t come up with anything clever.

“…oh.”

You watched the blond cross his arms over his chest, head tilted with the barest of frowns between his brows.

“I’m sorry,” you finally added, letting out a sigh. “I overslept and my alarm didn’t go off and…”

You found yourself trailing off, hating the sound of your excuses.

You got the feeling that Rafe hated the sound of them too by the even stare he fixed you with. You imagined that he hadn’t planned on dropping Wheezie off to her first day of school this year, and while it was something you both knew he should expect to do sometimes, it was also something he should’ve been asked to do. You couldn’t even remember going to bed the previous night, and you were sure the two bottles of wine you’d consumed had something to do with it.

“Should I anticipate dropping her off tomorrow too?”

There was an edge in his voice that you didn’t like but couldn’t necessarily be angry at.

“No,” you told him, tone sheepish. “I’ll get up on time.”

Rafe didn’t respond, but he also didn’t leave right away. He simply stood there, drinking you in with a frown. There was a look that passed through his eyes that made you think he probably wanted to say something, but if that were true, he swiftly changed his mind. You watched him silently leave, and you resisted the urge to sigh, closing your eyes instead.

When you married Ward Cameron two years ago, it wasn’t for the most honorable of reasons you’d admit. However, the same could also be said for him. After all, what would a forty-year-old man possibly want with a twenty-seven-year-old woman? Probably something equally as superficial as the same reasons a twenty-seven-year-old woman would want to marry a forty-year-old man. With that being said though, you hadn’t actually expected to fall for him. In hindsight, how could you not?

He had never been bad looking, and he was far kinder than you ever expected. Sure, the money and security of a comfortable life were what pulled you in, but after saying yes, you realized that he wasn’t the typical cold and rich husband you expected him to be. Seeing him do his best with his children only made it harder to pretend like it was some loveless marriage of mutual benefit.

You loved him.

…and then he died.

With one boating accident, you were suddenly the single mother of three teenagers. It wasn’t something you were prepared for, and while one was technically an adult, that still left two who weren’t and couldn’t possibly fend for themselves. On top of it all, you still found it hard to get out of bed most days, a problem that wasn’t so bad during the summer.

…but the new term was here, and you couldn’t put your responsibilities off any longer.

Reminding yourself that you’d quite literally drank yourself to sleep the previous night and therefore overslept, you noted that you were off to a bad start. The thought made your eyes burn, the full realization of your new reality hitting you. After Ward died, Rafe was basically the one to take care of everything while you spent most days in bed, but months had passed and summer was over and now your time had come to be a parent.

Resisting the urge to cry, you stumbled to the bathroom, hoping you didn’t look as bad as you felt.

“Did you hear me?”

His voice pulled you out of your own head and you slowly turned to look at him.

“What?”

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, and it was then that you realized he’d probably been speaking to you for some time. You swallowed at the realization, noting that you’d spaced out again, and when Rafe heaved a sigh, you actually felt like the scolded child.

“Sarah’s staying over at a friend’s house tonight,” he told you.

You could feel his gaze on you when you nodded, and deep in the back of your mind you knew that you should’ve asked some follow up questions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You’d always trusted Sarah and her judgement—Rafe being the one you and Ward always worried about—and considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t question her on this. In your current state of mind, you were positive she could ask you to smoke a blunt and you’d give her the okay.

You were pulled from your thoughts again by the sound of your name.

You were unsurprised to meet Rafe’s gaze.

You couldn’t place the look on his face, but he seemed like he was deep in thought. Rafe’s behavior and demeanor had taken a 180 after Ward’s death you had to admit. Granted, you supposed that was to be expected, but for some reason it surprised you. Maybe it was because the change was so drastic or maybe because Rafe seemed so set in his ways that it was hard for you to remember that he was only nineteen and still had so much capacity to mature into someone entirely other than what you knew him to be.

Your thoughts on the matter didn’t really matter, you supposed. All that mattered was that he’d stepped up where you’d so clearly dropped the ball, and maybe that was why you found it so hard to snap out of it and be the responsible parent, now. There were days when your grief paralyzed you, and you didn’t feel that nagging obligation to get out of bed because you knew Rafe would handle it.

The blond didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were plain as day as he reached along the counter and slid your drink from in front of you.

“Rafe-.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” was all he drawled, and you found yourself frowning.

“Who’s the parent in this scenario?”

“Apparently me,” he fired back, making your jaw tick. “I’m the one running the business and taking Wheezie to school and making sure there’s actually something to eat in the house.”

You blinked at that, recalling that you couldn’t remember the last time you went grocery shopping. Shame filled you once again, and your gaze lowered, eyes tracing the patterns of the granite. The silence that descended between you was thick, and just when you were about to apologize, Rafe spoke.

“Look, I get that you loved him or whatever, but… So did we…,” your eyes met his at that. “…and Wheezie and Sarah still have to go to school, and I still have to talk to people and deal with contracts and bullshit I didn’t think I would for at least another ten years.”

You realized that Rafe was right, and it made you feel worse because you didn’t think Ward would have married you if he didn’t think you were capable of looking after his children should something happen to him. Yet here you were…letting him down…

Rafe moved from his spot on the other side of the counter, and you only let him when he gently took your arm and forced you to stand. It was a far cry from your dynamic only five months ago. In your defense, you never clicked with Rafe. It wasn’t for lack of trying on your end, but Rafe was so troubled and had so many pent-up emotions and awful drug habits that it only proved to be a breeding ground for disaster.

You could think of too many instances in which you tried to be a parent to him only to be met with the same snarky and cruel demeanor he gave to everyone. He never quite took to you as his new parental figure, and you’d quickly learned that Ward was the only authority he’d respect and listen to. You tended to try and stay out of his way as a result, but Rafe was the one to catch you when you collapsed after getting the news that day.

Overnight, he’d gone from treating you like the ugly stepmother and instead like some injured foal he needed to look out for.

“That’s not healthy,” Mrs. Thornton said to you a few days later.

You watched her set her tea down, lips twisted into disapproval as she marinated on your words.

“You are the parent,” she sternly told you. “It’s your duty to pick up right where Ward left off, and instead you are letting some teenager run things.”

You knew that she was right, but you didn’t exactly relish hearing it.

You had never cared for the older woman, her upbringing influencing the majority of her opinions and stern exterior. However, after the boating accident, you desperately needed another actual adult to talk to. You were out of your element, and everyone knew it, and the first time you sat with her after your husband’s death felt humiliating. Now, however, you practically relied on her to keep your head on straight.

“…but I don’t know how to parent two teenagers all by myself, let alone handle the family business that I was never all that privy to.”

She made a noise at your admission, and it only served to humiliate you further. You had long suspected that she didn’t approve of Ward marrying a significantly younger woman, and by telling her that you weren’t included at all in the important decisions, you only validated her suspicions that you were only ever for show.

You forced yourself to ignore it.

“Their relationship was rocky, yes, but… No one knew Ward like Rafe,” you quietly admitted. “…and Rafe is the only one Ward talked to about all of this. Rafe knows how to make the decisions Ward would want.”

“He’s nineteen,” she scoffed. “Barely older than my own son.”

At your unsure expression, she leaned in closer, brows drawn together and lips pursed.

“You are his parent,” she repeated. “…and the longer you refuse to act like it and let him handle the business and the household and his siblings, he will forget it and start to challenge you in your own home.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell Mrs. Thornton that it didn’t exactly feel like your home anymore. At least not without Ward. While it relieved you that Sarah and Wheezie still treated you as they did before his death, you still couldn’t help but worry that without him around they would soon refuse to take you seriously as a parent. Part of you wouldn’t even blame them.

You’d only been in their life for three years, six months of which you were just their father’s silly twenty something girlfriend. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that they never expected him to actually marry you. Rafe had made that pretty clear when Ward had broken the news with you at his side.

It was a week later when you found yourself knocking on the door of Ward’s study. You supposed that it belonged to Rafe, now, and that correction made your heart clench. Even seeing him in the same spot where Ward often sat made you falter, and it took you a moment to remember why you’d disturbed him. Mrs. Thornton’s words were front and center in your mind.

“We need to have a serious talk about the business.”

At your words, Rafe only tilted his head, and you noted how out of place he looked in Ward’s space. Rafe was so young and everything about him betrayed his mindset and inexperience and impulsive tendencies. He didn’t belong, at all, but who were you to deny him his birthright?

“What about it?” he finally wondered, and you were hyperaware that he was watching your every move as you walked about the room.

“I think that I should be more involved with it,” you told him, continuing at his frown. “Rafe, you’re only nineteen, and like you’d said. You weren’t prepared to be fully involved in this for at least another decade.”

You watched him toss some papers aside at that, and the look he fixed you with made you swallow. It was reminiscent of the Rafe you were used to. You didn’t miss the way he dragged his blue gaze over you, sizing you up, and you definitely didn’t like it.

“You don’t know anything about it.”

The acknowledgement that Ward had never included you in these matters stung, but you only sighed.

“No…but…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe stood, and you had an inkling of what he was going to say by the look on his face.

“Do you even want to be involved in my dad’s business?” he asked you, leaning against the desk with his hands pressed into the wood. “Or are you just listening to Topper’s mom again?”

The blond chuckled at your silence, and it lacked humor.

“My dad left it to me,” he finally said, holding your gaze. “…and I know you think you should be involved because…well…you’re the parent, now…”

You didn’t like the way he rolled his eyes at that, and you blinked when Rafe straightened, nearing you.

“…but you don’t get it.”

Rafe looked between your eyes.

“I disappointed him too much while he was here, and this… This is my chance to make him proud,” he admitted, and your shoulders drooped.

“Rafe…”

“…and not just with his business,” he continued. “He’s gone…so now I have to step up and be the man of the house.”

Despite the fact that you could see where Rafe was coming from, you didn’t necessarily agree. He was too young to be putting so much pressure on himself to follow Ward’s footsteps and make up for his absence. That was your job, and you heaved a sigh, looking down. You’d just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“Besides…you’re still knocking back…what? Twelve bottles a week?”

You reared back at that, lifting your gaze as he’d already started turning away from you.

“I’m not saying it to be mean,” he assured you, leaning against the desk and intently watching you. “I’m just stating a fact.”

Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden.

“My dad’s death hit you really hard, and I get it. Mrs. Thornton is telling you that you’re the parent—the adult—and so you need to put me in my place and step into your role.”

You looked away, avoiding his eye.

“…but you can barely function most days, and I treated you like shit on more than one occasion, so…” you reluctantly met his gaze again. “It’s only fair that you let me look after you, now.”

You wanted to tell him that that wasn’t his job, and that more importantly, it should be the other way around. However, he was right. In your condition, you’d screw everything up and drive the whole family into debt. It wouldn’t be like this forever, you knew that, and so you reluctantly agreed that you needed time to get yourself together before you fucked it all up.

You woke up in tears, chest tight as you struggled to breathe.

It wasn’t the first time you dreamed about Ward, but instead of a good dream it was only a memory of that day Shoupe had knocked on your door. You’d felt trapped and panicked as you watched on, telling yourself not to answer it. Somehow, if you didn’t answer it then it wouldn’t be true. He wouldn’t be dead but just…still on his boat…enjoying a long vacation.

The events played out just like they did that day. You’d been able to feel the dread deep in your gut at the look on Shoupe’s face, and you kept screaming at yourself to kick him out of your house, that he had nothing good to tell you. You watched the way your face fell and the way your hands shook, and Rafe had only walked into the room for two seconds before hurrying to grab you when your knees buckled. He’d held you, fighting to calm you down as you wailed…

Much like he was doing now.

“Hey, hey,” you heard him harshly whisper, arms tight around you as he kept you from bucking around on the bed. “Y/N…”

Your nails dug into his arm as you tried to catch your breath, but your choked sobs were coming out too fast to give you any kind of reprieve. You could feel Rafe’s chest at your back as he moved closer, and one of his arms snaked around your neck as he held you in place.

“Is she okay?”

It was only then that you realized the hallway light was on and bleeding into the otherwise dark room. Wheezie sounded worried—scared—and you cursed yourself for doing that to her. You were supposed to be their support, comforting them and providing a safe space during this awful time in their lives, and instead it was the other way around.

You both heard and felt Rafe sigh.

“Yeah, she’ll…she’ll be fine. Wheezie, you should go back to bed,” he told her. “Now.”

You could only assume she listened to him, and Rafe only let you go when your breathing started to slow. You weren’t crying as hard when he laid you back down, and his absence was only felt for a few minutes before the bed dipped again. You felt him put a pill in your hand, and you frowned at it as he pulled you into a sitting position.

“Take this,” he told you, pushing your hand towards your mouth.

“What…?”

“It’ll help you sleep,” was all he said, forcing you to pop it into your mouth, a glass of water being pressed to your lips almost immediately.

In your distress, some slipped past your lips, and Rafe beat you to it in brushing his thumb across your chin. Slowly blinking, you laid back down, and you heard Rafe set the glass of water aside. You naturally thought that he’d leave, but you were surprised to feel his hand on the side of your face, smoothing it over your face and hair.

You really didn’t like that he was taking on a role that should’ve been yours, and after some time, you quietly mumbled an apology.

“I loved him,” you whispered in the darkness, and you felt Rafe freeze. “I know you guys think that I didn’t. I know what you and your friends have probably said about me behind my back.”

You tiredly scoffed, more tears escaping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“…but I loved your father very much, and I wasn’t prepared to do this alone.”

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t move either, and you pressed your hand to your face, feeling the pill taking effect.

“I don’t know what to do,” you choked out. “He was supposed to be here, Rafe, I’m not supposed to do this alone.”

You could feel your chest tightening again, and Rafe shushed you. You could feel your body becoming lighter, and you welcomed it, face relaxing and breathing slowing. Rafe was still next to you, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat coming off of it. You didn’t have the strength to push his hand away as his fingers grazed your cheek, and after some time you felt him pull the cover over you.

You didn’t feel him move or leave, but you became less concerned about that the more your fatigue grew.

You stared at Wheezie’s hopeful face, chewing on your lip as you contemplated her request.

“Have I met Natalie’s parents before?” you wondered, and you realized your mistake in asking that when her face dimmed.

“I don’t think so, but…dad did.”

You slowly nodded at that, whispering a small ‘right’ before looking away. It was a Friday evening, and in order to make up for your less than stellar behavior, you’d planned to cook and have dinner as a family—something that hadn’t been done in months. However, Sarah’s plans with her boyfriend put a damper on that, and now Wheezie was asking to stay over at a friend’s.

It didn’t seem fair to make Wheezie stay while Sarah didn’t. Granted, Sarah hadn’t exactly asked you, but still. The plan was to have dinner as a family anyway, and without Sarah, that wish was already ruined. The way you saw it, you might as well let Wheezie go, but you didn’t know Natalie’s parents, and so you felt unsure.

Rafe came into the kitchen then, and with one look between you, he deduced that a serious discussion was being had.

“What’s wrong?” he asked no one in particular.

“I’m asking mom if I can sleep over at Natalie’s tonight.”

“…and I’ve never met Natalie’s parents so…”

You watched Rafe chuckle at that, lips curving into a smirk as he moved to taste the vodka sauce on the stove.

“They’re almost as uptight as Topper’s mom, so Wheezie will be in good hands if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told you, tone light.

While that reassured you, you still felt a little down about your plans for the evening being ruined. You got the feeling that it was noticeable, and you flinched a bit when you felt Rafe’s hands briefly come down on your shoulders before brushing past you.

“You can do your family dinner thing another night,” he suggested, shrugging at you. “Sarah won’t be here anyway.”

Wheezie gave you a pouty lip, and you thought it over. If she said that Ward had met them before, and Rafe confirmed that they were indeed trustworthy, then you didn’t see why not. Even still, you unintentionally found yourself looking to Rafe, and when he gave you the barest of nods, you smiled at the thirteen-year-old.

“Okay,” you breathed, and she jumped up with her phone in hand.

“Natalie’s mom is picking me up,” she threw over her shoulder, hurriedly heading for the stairs.

You were happy to see her coping better with things, so you tried to focus on that instead of the fact that you’d be eating alone. Turning back to the stove, you turned the dial down to a simmer, half expecting Rafe to be gone when you turned around. He wasn’t, and you didn’t miss the way he eyed you as he leaned his arms on the counter.

“Let me guess, you have plans too? It’s Friday, and that usually means you’ll be out somewhere with Topper and Kelce.”

The crooked smile on his face was mocking as he peered up at you from beneath his lashes.

“It’s family dinner night.”

You only rolled your eyes at that, turning away from him.

“You’re nineteen, Rafe. I don’t expect you to turn down plans with your friends just to stay home and sit across from your stepmom,” you sighed. “You can go, it’s fine.”

“You and I both know I don’t do anything I don’t want to do,” he said, something you silently agreed on. “I want to stay.”

When you looked at him again, you were surprised to find him standing much closer, now. You hadn’t even heard him move nor realize just how close his voice was. You couldn’t place the look on the blonde’s face as he stared at you, and you watched him reach up to grab a plate.

“Why?” you chuckled.

Despite how nice he was being now, you both knew that it was only the case because of Ward’s death. Rafe had never cared for you, and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t hesitate to get as far away from this house as possible. You felt like Rafe’s thoughts were probably mirroring your own, something passing through his gaze that looked a lot like confusion.

“…because you loved him. Probably more than me,” he shrugged.

You frowned because you didn’t agree with that, at all, and you told him so.

“I think there are very few people who can love someone as much as a son loves his father.”

You threw Rafe a small smile, reaching out to rest your hand on his arm.

“…and you did love him, Rafe. Sure, you guys fought worse than teenage sisters at times,” you breathed, frantically blinking at the memories. “…but that’s just because he wanted the best for you, and you had your own problems that didn’t stop you from disappointing him.”

You tilted your head at him when he looked away.

“You idolized him, and all you wanted was to make him proud. It made things very complicated, but please don’t ever say I loved him more than you did.”

When Rafe looked at you again, there was a deep frown on his face, and for some reason, you felt very small beneath his stare.

“…but you did,” he said with a small shrug, gesturing around. “I mean, look at you.”

You blinked.

“You have to be medicated just to get some sleep, and you still don’t remember staring at the wall for days after he died.”

You felt a chill pass through you at his words, hating how much you’d let them down, but also because there was something about the way Rafe stepped towards you and held your gaze that you didn’t think you liked. It made an unsure feeling twist deep in your gut for some reason.

“So, no. I don’t want to go anywhere with Kelce and Top, not when my dad’s wife is one bad day away from a psychotic break,” he whispered. “He would want me to take care of you.”

His words were reminiscent of the same ones he’d spoken to you in Ward’s study that day, but unlike that day, today they made you feel uneasy, and you didn’t know why. You dropped your hand, taking a step back from him just as Wheezie’s voice reached your ears.

“Natalie’s mom is outside, I’ll text you when I get there,” she called as she ran through the house.

Your voice cracked when you told her to have fun, but you didn’t think she heard, the door slamming shut mid-sentence. Forcing yourself to turn away from Rafe, you grabbed a plate with shaky hands, Mrs. Thornton’s words echoing in your mind that Rafe’s new role in the household wasn’t healthy.

“I swear I’m not doing it to be a bitch, okay?” Sarah’s voice reached your ears. “It’s just really hard to be around her without thinking about dad.”

You swallowed at her words, taking a step back on the stairs,

“Especially when it’s obvious just how hard she’s taking it,” she said. “I mean, she’s a little better, sure, but those sleeping pills you give her aren’t doing a thing. She’s not tired, Rafe, she’s depressed.”

“Well, you’re making her feel like shit,” you heard him reply, a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard in quite some time. “This is the fourth dinner you skipped out on for your Pogue boyfriend.”

The younger girl didn’t respond right away.

“I’m sorry,” you heard her eventually say. “When did you start caring about her anyway? Weren’t you the one who called her some gold-digger, saying she was coming for your spot in the will?”

That didn’t shock you nor hurt you, long imagining that Rafe had said far worse. You heard him heave a sigh, and it sounded angry.

“Dad’s gone, Sarah, and that means we should stay together as a family,” he sneered. “…and I’m doing what I can to make that happen.”

You heard a slight scuffle, and you hurriedly made your way down the stairs and towards the kitchen. It had been some time since you heard Rafe and Sarah fight, something you definitely didn’t miss, but considering the topic of this discussion, it didn’t surprise you that it was a little more emotionally charged than normal.

When you rounded the corner, Rafe had a tight grip on Sarah’s arm, the younger girl trying to leave with her purse in hand. The expression on his face was unnerving, a deep frown between his brows with his lip curled over his teeth a she got in her face.

“Things are going to be different, now.”

“Rafe.”

Sarah’s eyes were wide and terrified when she looked at you, relaxing a bit at your presence, and you were relieved when Rafe let her go. Sarah only briefly acknowledged you on her way out, desperate to get away from Rafe, and you watched the way he glared after her.

“Rafe, it’s fine,” you told him. “She’s allowed to hang out with her friends for whatever reasons she wants, especially now.”

“Are you going to use that excuse forever? Just because dad died it doesn’t mean that she can do whatever she wants,” he snapped, gesturing towards the door.

“She’s grieving!”

“She’s using it as an excuse to be a shitty daughter, and you’re just letting her.”

You reared back at both his words and his tone, and for the first time in months, you felt something like anger bubble up in your chest.

“It’s not your place to tell me how to raise her. She’s not your daughter,” you spat.

The small laugh that he let out lacked humor, and by the look on his face, you knew that there was something on the tip of his tongue that you would hate.

“Yeah, well, she’s barely yours.”

You could tell that he wanted to take it back almost as soon as he said it, and you pressed your lips together just as he touched his forehead.

“Fuck, that’s not…”

His words trailed off, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You were only thirteen years older than Sarah and knew her for all of three years, so it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same at times, but it still hurt to hear. It’s like Rafe was voicing your worst fears that she would come to lack respect for you and your presence in her life as a mom.

You didn’t know how to do this…and everyone knew it.

“I just feel like…you’re treating her like dad did, letting her get away with everything, and I hate it,” he slowly said.

Rafe’s feelings about Sarah had never been a secret, and neither had Ward’s. You wouldn’t ever deny the fact that Ward favored her, and it was unfortunately noticeable, something that was always visibly distressing for Rafe. With Ward gone—and with Rafe feeling like he now needed to be the man of the house—this made for a very complex situation.

You couldn’t tell what was rightful concern and what was just Rafe wanting to put Sarah in her place, something he’d never been subtle about.

“I wasn’t expecting to be left raising teenagers by myself before I was even thirty, Rafe,” you finally replied. “I’m trying…”

“I know you are,” he hurried to say, quickly approaching you and reaching for you. “That’s why I’m trying to help.”

You backed away from him before he could touch you, and you didn’t miss the way his expression clouded over at that. Looking away, you swiped your tongue between your lips, choosing your next words carefully. You could feel his heated gaze burning a hole into your face.

“I get that you’re trying to help, and believe me when I say I’m so appreciative of it, Rafe, but… It is not your place,” you carefully said, looking at him again.

You watched him roll his eyes towards the ceiling, nodding to himself. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and when his gaze fell back to you, you immediately knew that you didn’t like it. Rafe’s nostrils flared, and you didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that your words had bothered him, no matter how carefully you chose them.

“What you mean is you’re the parent, I’m not, and I need to stay in a child’s place.”

You sighed at that.

“Not necessarily, I just-.”

“…because if that were true, who would’ve driven Wheezie to school on the mornings when you couldn’t even get out of bed?”

You didn’t appreciate him throwing that in your face, and by the look in his eyes, you could tell he wasn’t done.

“You want me to stay in my place, but I’m the one who made the funeral arrangements and answered the important questions and kept this house together when the woman our dad married was too grief stricken to even stand on her own two feet.”

You bit your tongue, warily eyeing him as he moved to stand directly before you.

“Dad died, and I stepped up. Not you…me,” he firmly told you. “…and now that you’re sort of kind of getting your shit together, you just want to pretend like I should have no say in any of this.”

You didn’t like how close Rafe was, but when you went to take a step back, his hand shot out to dig into your arm, preventing you from doing so. You winced at the tight grip, and you swore you saw his face soften some at the sight. His grip certainly did, and you almost wished that it didn’t because the gentle way he held your arm and the gentle way he looked between your eyes made you deeply uncomfortable.

“Someone has to be the man of the house, now…and it falls to me,” he whispered.

You didn’t even have a proper response for that, feeling wholly unnerved as you stared at one another, and you took a deep breath.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you quietly said.

You were relieved when he listened, almost convinced that he wouldn’t, and you touched your arm with a step back. You studied his face, searching for what? You didn’t know, but again…Mrs. Thornton’s words would not leave your mind, and you hated the way your lips trembled.

“Do not touch me like that again.”

Your tone was even, but you were sure your eyes betrayed you because Rafe merely raised an eyebrow at you.

“Or what? You’ll send me to my room?”

Your heart sank at his mocking words and the subtle challenge in them, and despite how much nicer Rafe’s next words were, they didn’t make you any less uneasy.

“I’m just trying to do right by my dad and look after everything he left behind.”

His words seemed innocent enough, but for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder just what that entailed exactly and what role he expected to play in this family. You didn’t want your mind to linger on something that couldn’t be true, and so you left him without another word.

The feel of a hand shaking your shoulder is what pulled you from sleep, and it took you a long time to peel your eyes open. Doing so felt difficult for some reason, and when you exhaled—smelling the wine on your breath—you realized why. Rafe’s face was the one that met you, and you immediately squeezed your eyes shut.

“Y/N,” he gently said. “It’s late.”

As he said this, you realized that you were on the couch, and it didn’t take you long to surmise that you’d fallen asleep there. You didn’t want to move, but you also didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the couch, knowing you’d regret it the moment you stood up in the morning. Just when you were about to mumble to Rafe to leave you be, you heard him sigh before feeling his arms slide underneath you.

In an effort to keep from falling, you quickly held onto him.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, disapproving.

“Wheezie has friends coming over in the morning,” you were barely able to make out. “I don’t think their moms would appreciate stumbling upon you asleep and hungover on the couch.”

He chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs.

“They already don’t like you…”

You merely hummed at that, and you were relieved when you felt yourself being deposited onto the bed. Rafe was saying something else to you, but none of it registered as you sought out sleep once again. Your intentions were interrupted though when you felt a hand on your face, and even in your inebriated state, you knew it didn’t feel right. Forcing your eyes open, you struggled to push Rafe’s hand away.

“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up in your sleep,” he mumbled when your eyes blearily met his. “Is that okay?”

You drunkenly blinked at him, lips trembling.

“Why don’t you call me ‘mom’?”

Your question was whispered, voice shaky, and as much as you wanted him out of your bedroom, you also wanted him to answer the question. The house was quiet, both Wheezie and Sarah asleep, and the only light was that of the light in the hall. You didn’t take your eyes off of Rafe as you waited for him to answer no matter how much you wanted to.

In the low lighting, you could see the way his dirty blond hair hung onto his forehead, the light glinting off of his blue eyes.

“I never have,” was his response.

“Well, maybe you should,” you forced out. “I don’t want you saying my name anymore.”

You didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared at that.

“Why not?”

“…because I don’t like it,” you confessed, tears kissing your eyes. “Not anymore.”

His face fell a bit at the way your voice cracked, and when he reached for you again, you hurriedly sat up.

The silence was loud as you just stared at each other, something unspoken passing between you. You felt like you wanted to crawl out of your own skin whenever he so much as looked at you, now, thoughts running wild with what you prayed to be untrue. His stony expression told you that they weren’t, that he’d been found out, and in your drunken state, you couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over.

When he reached for you again, it startled you right off of the bed.

The night stand shook as you fell against it, and you cried out in pain just as Rafe cursed. You didn’t want his help, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t need it as he hurried to reach you. The feel of his hands on you burned and not in a good way, causing you to flinch away from his touch. That didn’t deter him though, and his grip was tight as he kept you in place, his other hand reaching for your head.

“Did you hit your head? Are you-?”

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, shoving at his chest, and Rafe grew quiet.

The only sound for a while was your soft sobs, and Rafe’s refusal to leave you alone kept him kneeling before you. When you tried to stand up, he ignored your protests, reaching out and helping you. You swayed, and Rafe kept you close much to your chagrin. You wanted him gone as soon as possible, so you were quick to sit back down, but Rafe didn’t let your waist or your hand go.

Swooping down, he captured your lips in a kiss.

You wanted to gag.

His hand was almost painfully twisted around yours, making you wince, and every attempt to scoot back was only met with the resistance of his hand on your waist. Your stomach churned as he moved his mouth against yours, wanting to be sick at the feel of him kissing you on the same bed where Ward used to sleep. When his fingers dipped beneath your shirt, you bit him.

Hard.

You took the moment to remove yourself as he cried out, hurrying towards the bathroom and locking yourself inside. That awful sick feeling wasn’t as hollow as you thought, your knees hitting the floor almost as soon as you made it inside, head bent in the toilet. You couldn’t stop crying as you emptied your stomach, throat scratchy from the alcohol that was coming back up.

When you were able to catch your breath, you were shaking. You could still feel Rafe’s lips on yours, and on top of everything else you were forced to deal with in the months following your husband’s death, this was the last thing you’d ever anticipated.

You’d slept on the bathroom floor that night, refusing to leave and face Rafe. If Sarah and Wheezie noticed the tension between the two of you, they didn’t comment on it or at the very least, not to you. The knowledge that Rafe wanted to take Ward’s place in every facet of the household made you sick, and while neither of you mentioned that night, it also felt clear between the two of you that it wouldn’t be ignored forever.

You wanted him out of the house.

…but that wasn’t your place, was it? Rafe had more of a right to all of this way more than you did, and you couldn’t be the one to leave. Rafe may have been nineteen and an adult in the eyes of the law, but no matter how much of a 180 he’d done, you couldn’t trust him to properly raise Wheezie and Sarah. Especially now that you knew his 180 had less to do with just wanting to be a better person or more about taking on the role Ward had played in every way.

You shuddered at the thought, and oddly enough, this tempted you to drink yourself into a stupor more than Ward’s death ever did.

You and Rafe were ten years apart, so seeing him like a son had always been hard at times, but it didn’t stop you from treating him like one in the years that you’d been with his father. You’d liked to think that the sentiment was returned, and maybe at one time it had been, and maybe after Ward’s death things just…changed.

Was this your fault?

Had you dropped the ball so hard that he couldn’t even bring himself to see you as a parental figure anymore? Did he stop trying to respect you as one or…? Or did it have to do with how much he’d had to take care of you? You didn’t treat him any different, talk to him any different, so maybe you hadn’t done anything to change his perception of you.

Even if you had…what could you possibly have done to make him see you as a potential partner?

As if your nights weren’t bad enough—haunted by memories of Ward and that day you’d been told he was dead—you were now also kept awake by the knowledge that your stepson very much wanted to fill the void left by his father. And maybe if Rafe were anyone else, you could’ve talked about this, tried to sort through this, but Rafe was Rafe, and you reminded yourself that the Rafe you were accustomed to had only disappeared less than six months ago.

…and you’d seen hints of him just peeking from below the surface.

You resisted the urge to drink these days, positive that one sip would have you spiraling. You didn’t know how to cope with this new development, but you knew it couldn’t be that way. It didn’t go unnoticed that the night Rafe kissed you, you’d been drunk out of your mind, completely vulnerable to him. You also couldn’t bring yourself to take anymore sleeping pills, recalling Sarah’s words that day as she’d told Rafe that you were depressed…not tired.

She was right.

…and so despite the difficulty, you forced yourself to try and sleep without medication night after night. It was hard for several reasons, the most pressing of which being the unnerving presence of the nineteen-year-old just down the hall. It made it hard to find sleep most nights, and on the nights in which you did, you still do so with only maybe four hours to your name.

It was noticeable.

“I can stay and help, you know. It’s just John B., and he’ll understand why I’m late,” Sarah offered.

You could see by the look on her face that she was worried about you, and despite your attempt, you knew that your reassuring smile didn’t convince her.

“Sarah, it’s a Saturday night,” you told her. “I’m not going to make you stay and help me clean the kitchen, especially when you helped me cook and stayed for dinner.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but decided against it.

“Yeah, I’m glad I did.”

Her tone told you that she was feeling bad about the other dinners she’d skipped out on, and you were proven right.

“I’m sorry about not staying for all the others and…basically avoiding you,” she quietly apologized. “It’s just that Ward cared about you a lot, and when I’m around you, it’s easy to see why…and it just makes me think about him.”

You only exhaled at that, letting out a small chuckle as you washed the dishes.

“You don’t have to apologize, Sarah. I get it,” you whispered, pausing. “I miss him too.”

“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole, but Rafe was kind of right in confronting me over my behavior.”

The mention of Rafe had your hairs standing on end, and you swallowed down a sigh, still unsure what you were going to do about the blond.

“There were better ways for him to get his point across…”

Sarah only found that funny, softly laughing to herself.

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t be Rafe if he didn’t be rude about it, so,” she trailed off, pushing away from the counter. “I’ll be back before 1.”

You hummed at that, letting her know that was okay, and it was only ten minutes later that you were alone. Wheezie went to a sleepover just after dinner, and Rafe hadn’t been home all day. Before where that would have concerned you, now you could only be relieved to get some reprieve from the oldest Cameron. God knows that you needed the space to think.

Going over every scenario in your mind, the best one seemed to be to hope that it would just go away. You didn’t want to find yourself in some sort of legal battle if you even attempted to kick Rafe out and basically bar him from his own home. Legality of it all aside, it just wasn’t morally right. This was where he grew up, his safe space, and you couldn’t even pretend to feel comfortable at the thought.

The other option just wasn’t even an option. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t just pack up and abandon Wheezie and Sarah. Never mind the fact that you’d been in their lives for three years now, but now more than ever they needed stability. Their father only just died, and what kind of person would you be if you decided you just didn’t want to be responsible for them anymore? Allowing Rafe to run you off wasn’t an option.

Besides, there was a tiny and terrifying voice in the back of your head anyway that said he wouldn’t even let you.

It was an hour later that you found yourself in bed after cleaning the kitchen and taking a bath. You needed the soak, needed to do whatever you could to relax you. It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but considering how hard sleep was for you to find lately, you figured there was no harm in letting your head hit the pillow early.

Maybe you could trick your body into going to sleep at a decent time.

The minutes dragged on and were made to feel like hours, but the silence of the house and the fact that you were alone did more wonders than you thought. You could feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and what little sounds you could make out from outside slowly started to fade. The last thing you recalled was your body feeling heavier…

…and then you were standing in front of Shoupe, and he was telling you that Ward was dead, and you couldn’t even stand on your feet anymore.

You sat up with a gasp, struggling to breathe, and by the way your vision blurred, you knew that you’d been crying in your sleep. There was a voice in your ear shushing you, and despite the fact that you knew who the hands on your arms belonged to, your mind was too preoccupied with painful memories to fully register it.

Rafe pulled you against him, holding you to him as you sobbed, thinking to yourself that it had been a few weeks since you’d had a really bad reaction. You shook in his hold, head bowed as you wailed, and you were momentarily grateful that the house was empty. The blond rocked you, forcing you to press your face into the crook of his neck, and it was only then that you registered the smell of alcohol.

Before you could gather yourself to ask Rafe where he’d been, his hands were clumsily grasping at your face.

You sharply inhaled when he kissed you…again. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue, and you were so distraught that it took you too long to realize what was happening. The kiss was hungry, Rafe tasting the inside of your mouth and kissing you in a way that might’ve taken your breath away under different circumstances.

As it were, you could only register that you were being kissed by your deceased husband’s son again. It made your stomach twist uncomfortably, and your efforts to reach up and pull his hands away from your face were futile. You made a noise of protest, attempting to lean away, but he ignored it. Even when you bit at him like before, he ignored it.

With horror, you realized that Rafe wasn’t stopping it.

Panic began to set in, and when you shoved at his chest, he quickly reached to close his hand around your wrist. At the same time, he leaned into you more, forcing you back, and you didn’t put your hand down in time to prevent that. With him now on top of you, your heart was threatening to leap from your chest.

“Rafe,” you gasped when he pulled away. “Rafe, stop!”

Your voice came out panicked and shrill, but instead of listening to you, the sounds were only joined by that of your shorts ripping.

“He would want me to look after you,” he drunkenly murmured, making your stomach drop.

You both fought for the right to your shirt, you trying to keep it on and Rafe trying to take it off. You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack, telling yourself that this wasn’t happening. In the worst way possible, you discovered that Rafe was much stronger than he looked, feeling like you got the wind knocked out of you when he roughly shoved you down after your attempt to sit up.

You could hear yourself crying, and you knew that Rafe could too.

With a hand tightly snaking around your throat, his other fumbled to get his own pants off. Focused on trying to breathe, you reached up to pull at his hand. You could hear a ringing in your ears, and your chest felt tighter than it did when you first woke up from your nightmare. His lower half was pinning you down, and the blood you could feel yourself drawing on his hand and arm didn’t slow him down.

He was shushing you when you felt his skin against yours, and one of your hands twisted into his shirt as he started to push himself into you. The feel had your feet stretching, and you let out a choked sound despite the pressure on your throat. He was torturously slow in stretching you out around him, and with every further push of his hips, you clawed at his shirt some more.

He only let your neck go when his hips were firmly pressed against yours.

As you coughed and wheezed, he reached behind his head to pull the fabric off, tossing it somewhere without a car. The moment his chest was bare, he reached for you again despite your difficulty to breathe, and his lips covered yours in another kiss. You didn’t even have time to register the kiss because he was thrusting into you with abandon. His hips were wildly snapping against yours, and you gasped into his mouth.

Rafe searched for your hands, threading his fingers through your own and pinning it against the bed next to your head. His other hand was digging into your hips, kipping them in place as he fucked you. You struggled to catch your breath, sharply inhaling and gasping with every thrust. The stretch was unfamiliar, and your mind spun with the fact that you hadn’t experienced this in months and also who it was with.

When Rafe pulled his lips away from yours, you let out a sob, and he gently shushed you, curving his hips into yours.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured in the darkness. “It’s okay.”

You had so much you wanted to scream and shout at the blond, but you couldn’t even find the words. With every feeling of his cock sliding against your walls, your eyes rolled. His head fell next to yours, his heavy breathing in your ear as he pinned you down with his entire body. You weren’t able to move, only forced to lie beneath him and feel what he was doing to you.

He grunted in your ear with a particularly hard thrust, and you let out a yelp.

Just then, you heard the door open downstairs, and hearing it too, Rafe stopped. He was quick to cover your mouth with a hand, and he was completely still as you heard who you surmised was Sarah coming up the stairs. Your heart was so heavy in your chest, and it was all you could hear in your ears.

When she made it to the hallway, she stopped.

“Y/N, are you asleep?” she called.

At that, Rafe pressed down harder on both your mouth and you, and after a few moments, you heard the younger girl sigh. When the sound of her room door shutting reached your ears, Rafe kept his hand on your mouth, but he felt compelled to keep fucking you.

He was slow in doing so, now, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

He slowly dragged his cock in and out of you, pulling his hips back until just the tip remained—sometimes pulling out completely—before pushing back in and making your chest arch up into his. He quietly told you that it was okay, softly groaning as you unintentionally squeezed him. Rafe’s lips brushed against your neck and jaw, and now that the two of you were no longer alone, the room was deathly quiet.

So quiet that you could hear the sound of his cock plunging into you.

It was a sound that embarrassed you, a sound that made you want to cry. Rafe’s arms trembled as he fought to keep himself from just relaxing on top of you completely, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that if he uncovered your mouth, you wouldn’t even scream. You would be too ashamed to let anyone know what Rafe Cameron was doing to you.

With his lips at your neck, you could feel them move as he talked.

“My dad’s gone…”

The mention of Ward in this moment made more tears spill over, and when he slowly removed his hand, you let out a shaky breath as you silently cried. Lifting his head, Rafe’s gaze found yours, his hips still slowly pushing against yours.

“…and I know that it’s killing you, but…”

He swallowed, looking between your eyes.

“…but you have me, now,” you let out a soft cry at that. “You do, and I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

His hand reached up to touch your face, the tips of his fingers grazing your wet cheek. You shook your head, feeling like you were going to be sick, and Rafe only shushed you. His lips followed yours as you attempted to turn your head away, and you could taste your tears in the kiss.

“I’ve got the business…I’ve got the family ring…” his lips moved against yours as he spoke into the kiss. “…and I’ve got you.”

[princessbrunette]

“you still mad at me?” while balls deep with rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫.

GODDDD U ATE W THIS PROMPT 😩 like my jaw dropped

rafe was always doing this.

he’d make empty promises, plans even — talk to you all sweet with a warm hand on your back whispering suggestion of “that was the last time i’m getting involved with all that crazy shit, baby. i swear. s’just me you n’me now, you hear me?” and you being the fool, believed him.

until of course you’re catching him pulling back up to the drive on his motorcycle, yanking his helmet off with that ill-tempered expression of his that just tells you enough that somethings gone on, you know, the one where his teeth are grit, lips pressed together like they’d been sewn shut. that’s not even where it ends, because often times barry is close behind, pulling up alone side so they can debrief loudly in the living room, stinking up the place with pot. even if you were mad, you know the rules. no coming down the stairs when barry’s over.

you almost had started to enjoy the feeling of sulking when rafe would eventually skulk up the stairs after barry had left, shoulders heavy and ready to grovel. naturally, you put up quite the fight — and what might surprise you is that rafe let’s you mouth off, even if he knows you don’t understand the importance of his situation and likely never will.

“again and again rafe! how many times am i gonna have to put up with you just running off to god knows where when you promise me you’re not doing all that anymore! you were supposed to be with me today!” you nearly stomp your foot, that last sentence coming out childishly like an abandoned middle child. he nods, jaw ticking as he stares at the ground scratching his forehead, waiting for his lashing to end. once the tears start to roll, that’s his queue. like clockwork.

“come on, hey. y’know i love you, sweetheart. i’m sorry, okay?” he rushes to your side, sliding right up next to you on the bed and thumbing at the first batch of tears on your cheek, his hand so large it cups your skull at the same time. you want to preen into his touch, so elated with any affection after a day of missing him, worrying about him — but you don’t, because you’re still mad. be strong, you tell yourself.

you’re weak. you hate yourself.

not even 10 minutes of your sobbing and complaining later and he’s got your legs over his broad shoulders, balls slapping lewdly against you whilst he all but pumps you. his hands that are on your waist, using you as leverage reposition themselves so that he’s holding himself up over you more. a large hand wraps gently around your ankle as he does so, making sure your leg doesn’t slide off the strong slopes of his shoulder.

squeals and more tears are being punched out of you with each thrust, but he can see you physically relaxing, he can see you reaching out to him with a wobbling bottom lip so that you can hold onto his arms like you always do when he fucks you. it’s neutralising you.

“fuck, that’s m’girl.” he pants, mouth gaping at the way your pussy flutters around him. you’re so reactive to his voice he can’t believe it, never having met anyone who is so enamoured with everything he does. shit, maybe he should treat you better after all. he keeps talking, because he thinks you deserve to cum a whole bunch tonight, after putting up with all his shit. having a girlfriends made him gone all soft.

“you still mad at me?” he tilts his head, and you’re not sure if it’s intended to be mean or mocking, because it certainly doesn’t come out that way — his voice kind and eyes kinder, rolling the well kept muscles in his core to grind his cock against that spongey spot deep within. you don’t answer his question, clinging onto that last crumb of dignity and restraint. you pout through your whimpers, turning your head a little. he takes that opportunity to burrow down into your neck, his open mouth panting against your tepid skin as he speaks lowly again. “dont be mad at me baby. i’m only tryna look after my girl, you want that right?”

“mhm…” you reply before you permit yourself.

he slides his arms under you now, letting your legs down from his shoulders to hook around his waist instead. he’s holding your body close to his as he grinds, his pelvis smushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re so god damn close it hurts and you’ll do anything to cum.

“so good to me, baby.” he sighs and you cry out, arching your body harder to his. “i know. let it out. i’m so bad to you sweetheart s’the least i can do.” he mutters self pityingly before letting out a groan, cock pulsing inside you. you remember thinking about how right he was about that when you fell over the edge into a white hot orgasm.

[crossingthedreams]

humiliation — aemond targaryen x niece!reader

a/n: bro, for real, i can’t believe i’m posting day 10 - humiliation (@angstober) on the right day. seriously. i’m so fucking proud of myself! anyway, this can be read as a stand alone or a prequel to growing pains (aka day 08). and let me know what you think! 

masterlist

summary: we don’t choose our family, but we choose how we do politics. 

word count: 2k 

warnings: angst. slight sexual harassment. arranged marriage. implied targaryen incest (uncle/niece). aegon is an asshole.

It didn’t matter you were as much of a royal as they, as much of a Targaryen as they were. It didn’t matter if you rode a dragon and had silver hair. You were still the half-sister of Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, and that was enough for the Greens to treat you like a jester in court. 

Queen Alicent was not blatantly hostile towards you, but she was not friendly either. You saw the way she side-eyed you, that her father looked you up and down. Whilst her quarrel was with your mother, the Hand’s mind was much more cunning. He saw you as a piece not yet allocated in his board. Fortunately for him, you were sent as a bona fide present to court after your mother relocated to Dragonstone.

Your grandsire, the King, barely looked at you. Of course, he was terribly ill. Still, you were certain he just didn’t like the reminder his daughter was wed to, and clearing bedding his brother. 

As a young woman of a certain age, you knew whenever someone did the math, it was clear your parents conceived you before they were properly wed. The timeline was confusing, and you were undoubtedly the child of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, but were they or were they not wed at the time of your birth? Were you a bastard in technical terms?

To you, it didn’t matter at all. For some, well, that was a point of conversation constantly brought up. 

“Uncles and their nieces seem not to be bound by rules of wedlock, isn’t that right, Princess?”, a drunken Aegon moved his hand towards your leg at the dinner table. You slapped it away instantly, frowning towards him. 

His mother sighed, and his wife wasn’t paying attention.

“Prince Aegon, you ought to respect the Princess”, Otto Hightower said. You read between the lines. Her father will assassinate you. Your own father will disown you. 

Your gaze met Otto’s, and you nodded once, recognizing his attempts at decency. 

“Please, grandfather”, Aegon’s hand moved towards your face, and you deflected. He still managed to toy with a single lock of your hair. “She likes it”.

Once more, you removed his hand. Right now, silence was your finest ally. Enticing Aegon would only make him grow angry towards you or worse, take it out on sweet Helaena. How could Aegon be such an arse? His siblings sure weren’t as terrible.

Helaena was a good friend, and ever since giving birth she had grown even kinder, albeit a little weird. You and Daeron were closer in age, and he was ever courteous. 

And then there was Aemond. You had never seen a man so torn between the darkness and the light within themselves, except only, perhaps, for your own father. And when it came to your father, you only ever saw the good in him, and these horrible things he supposedly did were only stories. That wasn’t the case with Aemond.

You had seen him come and go from brothels, harm servants unnecessarily and even have you at the end of his insults. He could be a monster, prone to humiliating your brothers or even you yourself when he was threatened, and he seemed glad in causing chaos. 

But he was also loving. He would defend you from Aegon and others sometimes, even. He was the first to take you dancing, and he would be on the floor with you even past his feet hurt. He had taken it upon himself to make sure you became fluent in High Valyrian, a task your mother herself had given up on. After you first claimed a dragon, he flew many times with you, and all of the smallfolk made sure to watch when you took the skies together, as it was quite the sight. 

You were expecting him to defend you from Aegon right now, instead, he just quietly moved his food around his plate with his fork. 

“I often wish we could go back to Sunspear, Helaena”, you changed the subject. Your aunt, who seemed to be in a totally different world, looked at you alarmed. “Do you remember?”, you continued, stretching to see over Aegon and look directly into your aunt’s eyes. “The weather agreed with me much more than the rain”.

“Maybe we could see Daeron, too”, Helaena seemed excited for once. You didn’t have it in you to tell her Sunspear and Old Town were a far ride from each other.

“We should take the Cannibal and Dreamfyre and go”, you said, already smiling at the prospect. The smiles died when you mentioned your dragon, who seemed to be aggressive to all but you and, eventually, Vhagar.

“Oh, dear, I don’t think either of you should leave now”, Queen Alicent stated, voice sweet. 

“And why’s that, mother?”, it was Aemond’s turn to speak, for the first time during the whole supper. His head turned to look at his mother, who was in her usual seat besides the King’s seat, which lay empty. Viserys was much too ill and in too much pain. “Associating your daughter with the scandalous child of a scandalous mother is crossing a line?”.

The silence was deadly. 

You knew Aemond well enough to know the problem wasn’t with Helaena and you dreaming of Dorne.

Your eyes darted from Aemond to Alicent, and then to Otto. They all knew something they didn’t let out yet.

And every bone in your body told you — whatever it was they weren’t letting out, well, it was about you. 

Aemond stood up like a bolt and excused himself, marching angrily away. 

You had to find out what was going on, but leaving now would only bring more attention to both you and the matter, and it also meant dealing with an aggravated Aemond. Bad idea. 

After dinner, waiting until the dead of night and sneaking into your Uncle’s room to get the truth out of him? Sounds perfectly reasonable. 

Aemond was sitting, looking unbothered. You walked in from the secret passageway that connected most of the Red Keep, and he didn’t seem surprised at all. He looked like a true Targaryen Prince.

“Took you long enough”, he was examining his nails, and then his one lilac eye turned towards you. 

“I wasn’t aware we had an arrangement”. 

“Yet here you are”. 

You smiled softly, not showing any teeth. A conversation like this with Aemond could go in any direction, and, with your experience, you knew it was best to appear submissive.

“You have been informed your name is a constant in the Small Council, haven’t you, niece?”.

You raised your eyebrows, entering his chambers nonchalantly. With the King’s health deteriorating and talks of succession rising once more, you, the daughter of the heir apparent, were as valuable as gold. Of course you knew you were talked about often, and Aemond knew this as well. Therefore, you didn’t reply. He wanted to make a point, so he was going to make it. 

“There’s been talks about your future”, Aemond continued, leaning forward as you sat across from him in the room. “Matrimonial matters have been raised”.

You gasped. You tried not to, but you did. Your mother swore you would have a say in who your husband was. Surely she hadn’t delegated this matter to the Queen. Which meant you would be given as a shine prize to a nobleman, and he would consummate the marriage before your mother was even made aware of it. 

You felt sick. 

“Don’t worry. Aegon is not taking a second wife”, the smile could be heard in Aemond’s voice. You scoffed and turned to him.

“Is that all?”

“My grandfather wished to have you wed Daeron”. Your eyes widened. Certainly not a good match. Daeron was kind and sweet, but he lived distantly. You would not be sent to Old Town, there’d be no convincing you of that. “My mother opposed, of course”.

“How could the always just Queen Alicent have her child married to the child of the ‘scandalous’ princess Rhaenyra, right?”, you mocked and copied his words from dinner earlier. Aemond constantly looked angry, but now he looked just annoyed.

“There’s that, yes. Also, it’s not politically wise”, he continued. “Cregan Stark would be a better match, perhaps even a dornish man, since you seem so fond of those wildlings”. 

“Make your point, Uncle. Who am I to marry?”

“It hasn’t been decided”, he turned to you. “There’s a problem with your family, you see”.

“Our family”, you corrected. Whether he willed it or no, Aemond Targaryen was the younger brother of your mother, and he would have to live as such. 

Your uncle’s eye narrowed, then went back to normal. Sitting across from each other, you seemed almost the same height. His gaze went from your eyes to your neck, then chest, then covered legs, darting upwards to the ceiling quickly as he let his body fall even more on the sofa. He breathed deeply. “Yes, dear niece. Our family”.

“You should take me”, you said, without thinking. You thought too much, and a marriage between the Greens and the Blacks would be interesting for both, assuring both sides of the family were united. Wasn’t that the way your family did business? Marrying off their daughters? 

Out of this entire planet, Aemond was the only man you’d met that you’d be willing to marry. The rest were brutes, disgustingly aggressive or simply dumb.

From the look in his eyes, you knew Aemond was thinking about it. Your breath got caught in your throat. He surely had thought about it before, right? You were a beautiful girl, you knew this, and Aemond had a thing for women with silver hair. All men in King’s Landing wished they could have you, why would Aemond be any different? 

You kept forgetting that Aemond was, in fact, different. 

“I couldn’t wed you, niece”, he said, mouth a thin line. Your heart was racing in your chest. “What would we have? Not the throne, not even Dragonstone”. 

“Each other”, you replied harshly, fighting the tears in your eyes. “We’d have each other”.

“That’s not enough”.

The sheer humiliation that you felt was enough to make you stand up and motion towards the door. But you couldn’t leave through the front door, could you? Your reputation would be ruined forever.

So, with your heart simultaneously beating fast and not beating at all, you just stood there in the middle of Aemond’s chambers. You didn’t want to look back at him, but you had to turn to make your way out where you came.

You hadn’t heard Aemond, who quietly made his way to you, and was now towering above you. Your eyes locked, breaths mixing. If you were to stand on your tiptoes, your lips would almost reach his. Almost.

The problem with Aemond was this constant streak of ‘almosts’. You were sure his reasons for not marrying you were political more than anything else, and it pained you to know that the legitimacy of your brothers was a matter even now, when yours wasn’t. Your mother and her decisions… It had humiliated you once more. 

Your heart was beating so loudly you feared he could hear it from this distance. Still close enough so you could feel his breath, Aemond muttered in Valyrian, even though you were alone “Ao issi naejot jikagon sir (You should go now)”.

Quietly, with feelings of humiliation and something else you couldn’t quite name, you stepped away as you did as your uncle commanded, and left. 

[saythenametotheworld]

'tis the damn season | kmg

Genre: exes baggage; pseudo-relationship Synopsis: Taking your boyfriend—with whom you recently broke up with—to your family home for the holidays and pretend you're still happily in love? Doesn't sound like the best idea but what could go wrong? Everything. Pairing: SEVENTEEN Kim Mingyu x Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content Notes: 23k words - I got carried away, song prompt was 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift.

The weather forecast sure wasn't lying when it said this winter would be the coldest in the last decade. As soon as you step outside, the chill has cut through your layers of clothing. It's a cold that feels even more piercing than the void in your soul right now.

The last few days, you've been trying to convince yourself that the chill you're feeling is just the season, nothing more. You were just being in denial, of course. As you walk to meet your sister in a cafe near your apartment, you can't help but think back to warmer times. Days when the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, when laughter was easy, and the world felt kinder to you and your heart. It's clear now that the warmth you miss isn't just from the absence of the sun. It's the absence of something, someone, who made everything feel less cold, less harsh.

“Blair!” you called out when you spotted your sister outside the cafe, her bundles of clothing unable to hide the massive baby bump. She looked warm and pretty, waving happily at you when she saw you.

“Hi!” she greeted pitchily when you approached her.

“Did you wait too long? Where’s your husband?”

“Oh, he went to get the gifts wrapped up,” she said, ushering you into the building.

“Their hot chocolate here is really good. You should try it.”

“Really? Good because I’m craving some chocolate right now.”

You found a table, ordered food, and started talking about the Christmas party in your family home this year. She laid down the plans and the segments which are the same as every year but you just had to talk about it. The discussion was going well until your sister reminded you of something important that totally slipped your mind. 

“Mingyu's coming too right?”

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked stupidly, blinking rapidly at her.

“Mingyu. Duh,” she scoffed, chuckling. 

Of course, Mingyu. “I'm not sure he can make it this year.”

Your sister's face contorted into a frown upon hearing that. She asked, “Why? What's wrong? Did you two break up?”

Yes, you did. But hearing the worry in her voice made you swallow the words. "He probably has other plans. I don't know, he might go home for the holidays this year."

She visibly relaxed, patting her chest and sighing. “Good lord, I thought you two broke up. That’s okay. He should spend time with his family if he can. I just asked because he’s been spending Christmas with us ever since you got together.”

Right, he has. Ever since you started dating, Mingyu has spent every Christmas with your family. The first time he did, it was because you found out his family lived abroad so you invited him over. He quickly got close with your family and soon became a regular presence during holidays and important family functions. Including last year, Mingyu has spent three Christmases in your family home. This year would have been his fourth if you didn't break up.

It hasn't been that long; only three weeks have passed since. You kept count because a four-year relationship is obviously not something you forget overnight. Not to mention the regrets you have about the breakup that would often leave you to wonder if it was the right thing to do.

"The kids will miss him, for sure," your sister commented to which you only replied with a hum of agreement. She didn't bring him up again and continued relaying the holiday plans to you. When it was all over and she'd had her third cup of hot chocolate, you walked out of the cafe with your sister promising to drive you back to your apartment.

The universe probably has it out for you though, because as soon as you step out of the cafe, the first person you bumped into was Mingyu.

"Mingyu!" your sister exclaimed, gasping behind the scarf that was covering half her face. "Good to see you. How are you?"

Mingyu looked surprised but he was quick to give your sister a hug. "I've been well. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Still alive and very pregnant."

"So, I see," Mingyu smiled sweetly, eyeing your sister's growing bump. "He should be coming out this month, right?"

"He is," your sister chimed. "Hopefully before or after the Christmas weekend, but, I'll leave it up to him to decide."

A smile crept up on your lips, touched by the fact that he remembered that bit. As the two of them had a quick catching up, you stood there awkwardly, looking around and refusing to meet Mingyu's gaze.

"Will you be joining us for Christmas this year?" your sister asked, making you glance at Mingyu at once. He was looking at you too, confusion written over his face. "She said you're going home to your family. That's good, but if you change your mind about it, you're welcome to the chateau, okay?"

"Uh," Mingyu chuckled awkwardly, tilting his head. "Yeah, I will. I mean... I might. I'll let you know."

"Good," your sister beamed just as her husband was pulling over at the side of the road. She turned to you. "Since Mingyu's here, I guess I won't have to drive you back anymore?" she said, nodding at you.

You grabbed her hands and gave her a pleading look. "But you promised!"

"I did, but your boyfriend's here now so I don't have to," she scoffed. To Mingyu, she said, "See you around, Gyu."

"Yes. See you around. Take care," Mingyu replied, waving at your sister as she got into the car.

The two of you stood there in silence, watching them drive away and disappear into the sea of cars on the road. You sighed when you couldn't see their car anymore, turning on your heel to walk away. Mingyu's voice called for you, making you stop to look at him.

He seemed hesitant at first, but he still spoke. "You haven't told them yet?"

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "I was going to, the timing was just off when the topic came up a while ago. Don't worry though, I'll sort this out."

"It's fine. No big deal," he said, nodding.

You evened your breathing, nodding at him. "Okay," you replied before turning to walk away.

The air was cold against your cheeks and your mouth was bitter from the cold exchange you just had with Mingyu. It was brief and hurried like neither of you wanted it. It was fleeting, almost as if it never happened at all. Now here you are, freezing and broken, wanting so bad to whine about the encounter but you can’t because that would be pathetic and completely out of line. In fact, you’re the last person who should complain about Mingyu being cold and distant. It was you who decided to break up with him in the first place.

“Y/N, wait!” came Mingyu’s voice, huffing as he ran after you down the sidewalk. You halted, your heart suddenly beating wildly, replacing your frustration with anxiousness. He stopped just a few feet from you. “Let me drive you home.”

What home? “I’m fine. It’s not that far.”

“Please, I insist,” he replied, reaching for you but not touching you. “You look cold.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, along with the voice in your head telling you not to get into his car. "If you don't mind, then... okay."

With a heavy step and your mind screaming about how stupid you are, you towed behind Mingyu all the way to where his car was parked by the sidewalk.

The ride was quiet; not that you were expecting any conversation. What would you talk about anyway? It shouldn’t feel weird since you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. But then again, it did feel weird to be together and not utter a word to each other. You used to have a lot to talk about; random topics, important stuff, petty fighting, and whatever it was that crossed your minds. Now you haven’t heard from him for three weeks until today. Funny how someone can be a huge part of your life today and become a stranger the next day. The chill on your hands and cheeks was gone but the cold in your heart was enough to make your soul shiver.

Mingyu took a deep breath as he pulled over at the side of the road right in front of your apartment complex. The car came to a stop but you sat there frozen in place, unable to open the door on your side or say anything to thank him for the ride. Mingyu can probably feel your discomfort and it felt awkward knowing that.

“For what it’s worth,” he began, breaking the ice. “I haven’t told anyone either.”

You cautiously glanced his way, smiling timidly when you saw that he was looking at you. His expression was difficult to discern. There was a smile on his lips but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You looked away and chuckled awkwardly. “I guess it’s not something that just randomly comes up in conversations, is it?”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” he agreed, nodding.

You were both quiet after that, unsure of what to say next. You’re thinking about getting off but it doesn’t feel right to leave just yet. It was as if something in the atmosphere was telling you the conversation was not over yet. Was it the atmosphere or was it your delusional brain fooling you into thinking there's something there when the truth is there isn't?

“You know, if you want…” he started again. You can tell he was hesitating because he wouldn’t even look at you. “I can go to the chateau with you.”

“The chateau?” you repeated, genuinely surprised. “With me? You mean for Christmas?”

“Yeah."

“Are you serious?” you asked incredulously, genuinely amazed at the sudden turn of events.

“Is that a ‘no’?” he probed. He seemed serious about his offer but you weren’t sure how to react to it. “I was thinking we could just go there for old times’ sake. I don’t have anything planned for Christmas anyway, and I would love to see them again one last time.”

One last time? This really is the end for you, isn’t it? “Wouldn’t it be weird?”

Mingyu chuckled sheepishly, scratching his nape. “Yeah, I guess it would. Sorry. Was it too much? Did I overstep?”

You shook your head in response but in your mind, you do agree that it was out of bounds. What kind of ex was he to ask if he could spend Christmas with your family after you two have broken up? And what kind of woman would you be if you said it was alright and he could come? Sure, he’s close to your family and has built a good relationship with them. Even so, it’s still awkward to have him come over for the holidays knowing the relationship you two had-- which was the reason he met your family in the first place, has come to an end.

“We broke up, Gyu. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you replied and you meant it. Everyone in your family adored Mingyu, especially your parents. Now that you think about it, if they find out that you’ve broken up, it would break their hearts too. “I haven’t told them yet and it would upset them. Especially mom.”

Mingyu appeared to think for a moment, then his face contorted with hesitation. It baffled you how much you knew him; his cues, his expressions, and even his mannerisms. You knew exactly what they signified and how to respond to them. Right now, you know he has an idea that you may or may not like.

“What if…” he began, glancing at you tentatively. “What if we don’t tell them yet?”

“What?”

“What if we don’t tell them that we broke up? Telling them now would probably ruin the festive mood. Let’s just let the holidays pass. We could do that and spend Christmas together this year.”

Together... you pondered but you steeled your resolve. It was tempting, and you could shout to the world how much you miss him right now, but you wouldn't take your chances on something so risky.

“You’re not serious,” you deadpanned, imagining a whole lot of scenarios where his plan backfires terribly. It would be easier to just get back together than to pretend you’re still together in front of your whole family. “It’s stupid and they’ll see right through it.”

“So, you’re up for it as long as they don’t figure it out?” he grinned mischievously. God, you hate it when he makes that face. He does that when he knows he’s up to no good and he’s trying to rope you into it. But dear God, don’t you love it too; the fun that follows after he finally convinces you, the euphoria of being involved in some misconduct, and the thrill of doing something you never thought you would ever do.

“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him. “I get that you loved hanging out with them, but it’s risky and unnecessary. Besides, you don’t really have to be there. I already told my sister you’ll be spending Christmas with your family.”

“Alright, I'm sorry. Let’s not do it,” he gave up, raising his hands. “It was worth a shot though.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a no.” You forced a smile as you reached for the door and got ready to leave. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome. Stay warm,” he replied with a small wave. You smiled again just as you were closing the door. Then you watched him drive away, sighing as soon as he was far enough.

"Stay warm? What is he a weatherman?" you muttered, shaking your head.

You were right; the universe has it out for you. After that one unexpected encounter with Mingyu, you started seeing him everywhere—in the grocery store, at your favorite café, even just walking down the street. For such a big city, it seemed absurd how often you bumped into him lately, especially since you hadn't seen him once since the breakup. At first, you exchanged quick, polite greetings, but soon these random meetings became so frequent that even looking at each other felt awkward. That’s the tricky part about an amicable breakup: there’s no real reason to ignore each other. It would have been easier if he had been a jerk, or if you had done something unforgivable, but there was not enough reason to act like strangers.

“Hello, stranger. Good morning,” Mingyu greeted you as he saw you at the café counter. The sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at his goofy grin.

“Good morning to you too,” you replied, nodding in acknowledgment. Mingyu didn’t say anything else and quietly waited his turn.

He stood behind you in the queue, out of sight, but you could easily imagine him with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Or maybe he was scrolling through his phone. Perhaps he was staring at the menu. Whatever he was doing, you hoped he wasn’t looking at you—observing the back of your neck, checking you out, or anything like that.

“Thank you,” you told the barista as she handed you the buzzer after you paid for your coffee. When you turned on your heel, you caught a glance of Mingyu who smiled at you when your eyes met. As you walked away, you heard him tell the barista his order.

Your feet hurriedly carried you to a four-seater table. Originally, you weren’t planning to linger in the café and ordered a takeout, but curiosity got the best of you after hearing Mingyu order for two people. Who was he having coffee with this early? Your eyes scanned the occupied tables, searching for any hint of Mingyu’s company. Anxiety began to build up in your chest as you considered the possibility that he might be here with another girl.

It could be anyone, you reassured yourself. Mingyu, being the social butterfly that he is, has friends everywhere. Throughout your relationship, you had lost count of the times you met Mingyu’s acquaintances. Most of these meetings happened in the streets or the hallways of the university, where he would bump into someone he knew and have quick small talks—not forgetting to introduce you as his girlfriend to those you were meeting for the first time. But still, in your opinion, it was a little too early to be meeting a friend for coffee.

As expected, Mingyu had a quick chat with the barista before leaving the counter. Hoping he wouldn’t notice you watching him, you feigned interest in your phone as he strolled across the room. The table he sat at wasl vacant, leading you to presume that the person he’s meeting hasn’t arrived yet. But barely a minute later, the chime of the door opening echoed through the café. The way Mingyu’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the newcomer made you scowl. Glancing over your shoulder toward the entrance, you saw a woman walking in.

You held your breath, observing the tall, alluring figure approach your ex-boyfriend. Mingyu greeted her with a hug that lingered longer than you would have preferred. Recognizing the jealousy bubbling up inside you, you scoffed incredulously, shaking your head and tearing your gaze away from them. So what if he’s meeting a woman? What does it matter to you? So what if there’s a chance they’re involved romantically? It’s none of your business! He’s free to do whatever he wants!

“Isn’t it a little too soon to start seeing someone new, though?“ you muttered, a scowl knitting your brows together.

The buzzer startled you, prompting a sharp exhale as you rose to fetch your order. But when the barista called out your name in a voice louder than necessary, a flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks. Mingyu must have heard that you were still around.

But really, why feel embarrassed? This is a public space, and you have every right to be here. Now that you think about it, you may be way in over your head to think your presence there is affecting him at all. You chided yourself internally for overthinking.

“Thanks,“ you said to the barista, sliding the buzzer back across the counter. “But seriously, what's the point of the buzzer if you're going to call out names anyway?“

The barista grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I've wondered the same thing myself.“

If you want to know who Mingyu was hanging out with or if he's already moved on, you could simply ask. Not Mingyu, of course. Maybe inquire with mutual friends or someone close to him. Granted, easier said than done, but definitely less humiliating than the slightly awkward and borderline stalker-ish behavior you're exhibiting now.

Your phone started ringing as soon as you stepped out of the cafe. It was your father calling so you punched the answer button and pressed the device on your ear. “Hi Dad, what’s up?”

“Hi, sweetheart. Is Mingyu there?” was the first thing he said.

You glanced back inside the cafe where you could see Mingyu happily chatting with his ‘date’. “No. Why?”

“Mommy wants to know if he’s coming this weekend. Your sister was here a while ago and told us she met Mingyu last week. Your mom’s making final arrangements for the weekend so she wants the RSVP. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah, I know,” you exhaled, your eyes twitching at the sight of the girl’s hand around Mingyu’s arm. They have left their table and are now making their way out of the cafe with all smiles.

“Right, you do. Let us know once he made up his mind, alright? Or call your mom, whatever works for you.” your dad said.

You turned in the direction of your apartment before Mingyu could see you loitering outside the cafe. “I should just call her. I gotta tell her as soon as possible anyway,” you replied as you trekked back to your apartment.

“Good. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask him. I mean,” your father chuckled. “He’s been a regular presence in our home for three Christmases. At this point, he’s basically family.”

If they only knew the truth, they would never even mention his name around you. “Right. I gotta go, Dad. I’ll call mom later.”

“Alright, Bean. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” you replied, briskly hanging up and tucking your phone back into your purse. You have made up your mind, so you turned on your heel and walked back to the cafe. Mingyu was standing by the sidewalk, waving a hand at the girl who he had just sent away in a taxi. The voices in your head were screeching and cursing at you for an impulsive decision that you were actively trying to execute. But there was no turning back.

“Kim Mingyu,” you blurted as soon as you reached your ex. Mingyu, who was just about to press his phone to his ear, turned to you in surprise. “Christmas at the chateau. Is it still on the table?”

Confusion flickered on his face. “Mom, let me call you back. I need a sec. Yeah, it’s her… I will. Bye, mom. Talk later.”

You took a deep breath, watching him put his phone away and walk closer to you. He then said, “It depends on you, y/n. Just say the word.”

You exhaled sharply, blowing steam from the warmth of your mouth. “Come with me, then. Spend Christmas with me–us. The family… My uh, family wants you there.”

Mingyu shrugged, lips lifting into a boyish smile. “What about you? Do you want me there?”

“Absolutely!” you replied so quickly, it was embarrassing. “Everyone would be delighted to see you so… That makes me want you to be there.”

There’s no way he didn’t notice how defensive you were. Mingyu’s grin didn’t falter, nodding cheekily as he said, “Okay then. If you insist.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tore through your lips, both annoyed and shy because you knew he was teasing you on purpose. “Stop that.”

“What?” he grinned. “You want me there. I guess I’ll be there then.”

“Shut up,” you gloated, shaking your head despite being unable to erase your smile. You started walking back to your apartment while Mingyu followed behind you. “Go away!”

He chuckled heartily, reaching for your elbow. “Come, y/n. I’ll take you home.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, letting him drag you back. Your heart has stopped raging and you are feeling much calmer now. “I have rules.”

“Okay.”

“And I have a condition.”

“Sure, sure. Let’s hear it in the car.”

“What could go wrong?” you questioned, looking at your friend Daphne through the reflection in the mirror.

Daphne stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression, as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing ever. “Those four words are harmless on their own. But if you put them together, you get the most dangerous sentence in the history of humanity.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you turned to face her. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you very much,” you quipped, then stood with your back facing her. “Now, would you please help me out of this dress? I don’t like it.”

“Me neither,” Daphne agreed before unzipping the dress at once.

“How about that one?” You pointed at a nice maroon cashmere dress. 

Daphne looked over it and nodded. “It’s cute. Try it on.”

You hurried back into the fitting room with the dress. It’s the morning before you leave for the chateau and you invited Daphne for a last-minute shopping. You wanted a dress for the Christmas dinner and you initially thought you’d find a decent one in your closet but there wasn’t any. That was not to say you didn’t have any nice dress–in fact, you had plenty. You just didn’t want to wear them for the occasion. It was as if everything in your closet was suddenly tacky, plain, or unattractive. You wanted new ones.

“You look amazing,” Daphne said as soon as you stepped out, although she had a deadpan expression.

“Thank you. I like it too.”

“Be honest. Are you shopping because you wanted to look cute for Mingyu?”

You laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m not.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes at you. “I can see right through you.”

You knew that but you were still adamant about denying it. “I don’t dress to impress, Daph. Especially not for a man.”

“You don’t, but this is Mingyu we're talking about so…” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say. This dress is not for him,” you insisted, examining yourself in the mirror.

“It’s okay, girl. You can be honest with me.”

“I can?” you lilted, taking the bait Daphne threw to catch you.

“See, I knew it!” she snickered, rolling her eyes. “You want to impress your ex.”

You just pouted, not responding to her at all and just looking through your dress selections for more options. So what if you want to impress Mingyu? You’re not trying to get back with him. You just didn’t want him to think you were any less pretty after the breakup.

“y/n, I told you. Bringing him to the chateau is a bad idea.”

“It’s just one weekend,” you murmured, embarrassed but determined not to back out.

Daphne stood from the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “One weekend where your heart and dignity is on the line. I don’t think it’s worth it.”

Daphne was right and you know it. But you had made up your mind–you are going to the chateau with Mingyu. You’ve made the preparations and told your parents he was coming. You’ve talked to Mingyu and put up clear boundaries. Plus you are driving up there in four hours. You can’t just back out at the last minute!

You can, you just didn’t have the intention to do so. Although it shamed you to admit it, a part of you wanted this. For old-time’s sake.

“I know you mean well but,” you paused, faced your friend, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Daph.”

Daphne sighed, shaking her head sternly as he approached you to tenderly squeeze your shoulders. “I guess I can’t change your mind, then?”

You responded by shaking your head, and Daphne pulled you into a hug.

“Just don’t go breaking your heart. It hasn’t even healed yet.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Your friend grumbled as she pulled away. Pouting, she pointed at the dress with a deep olive green shade. “Get this one too. Green looks majestic on you. And hurry. This place is getting too crowded.”

Grinning, you heeded her suggestion and grabbed said dress before disappearing into the fitting room once again. After shopping, you sat down for brunch with your friend and spent the morning chatting away. By the time you arrived back at your apartment, it was half past noon and you only had a couple minutes left before Mingyu would come to pick you up. You stuffed your new clothes in your luggage, inspected your boxes of presents for your family, and did your routine inspection of your flat to make sure everything was clean and tidy before you left.

Your doorbell rang right on time, signaling the arrival of Kim Mingyu. Part of you wanted to roll your eyes and say he can just come in like he used to. It’s not like you changed your passcode or anything. But then again, Mingyu is a gentleman. Even if he could, he wouldn’t just waltz in like he owns the place.

“Hi,” he beamed as soon as you pushed your door open. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, I just need help with these,” you replied, motioning to the huge bag of presents in your hands. Mingyu was quick to take it out of your hands, and then hold the door open for you while you went back in to take your luggage out. He even took that one out of your hand too.

“Is this all your stuff?” he asked as you closed your apartment door.

You nodded in response and so you both boarded the elevator. At the parking lot, his car was right outside the exit, waiting for the two of you. As soon as everything was loaded, he opened the car door for you with no hesitation. Dumbfounded, you quietly slipped through the door and sat on the shotgun. Mingyu then rounded the car to get inside the driver’s seat.

“Ready?” he asked, beaming. You looked away from him, pretending to be busy with the seatbelt as you responded to his question with a quiet nod.

The first few minutes of the car ride were spent with Mingyu talking to his mother on the phone. It was a pure and adorable conversation about the weather, meals, and their plans for the weekend. Mingyu’s mom was a kind woman who spoke in a stern but gentle manner. You don’t have that many memories with her mom, except for the time two years ago when Mingyu took you on a trip to his hometown. At the time, and in the few occasions that you did talk to her, she has shown nothing but adoration for you.

“Mmhmm, don’t worry. I will take good care of myself, Mom,” he said affectionately after his mom reminded him to keep himself warm and never get sick.

“But wait, if you’re on your way to their house, does that mean y/n is with you?” she asked from the other line. Your eyes widened at his phone that was hanging on the dashboard holder. Then you glanced at Mingyu who just scrunched his nose cutely at you. 

“Yes, she’s here. Say, ‘hi’.”

His mother started laughing heartily before saying, “Hi, dear. How are you?”

“Hello, Moth…er…” your speech trailed off, awkwardly glancing at Mingyu.

He just chuckled and gave you an encouraging nod before mouthing, “It’s okay.”

“Um… I’ve been well–” you stammered, clearing your throat before finishing, “–mother.”

“You’ve been well? Great. That’s great,” she chimed, her voice sweet and endearing. “I haven’t heard from you for a while. I thought you finally got sick of my son and left him for good.”

A hiccup escaped your throat, caught off-guard by her sudden comment. Mingyu on the other hand, started whining and said, “Mom! Why would you even say that?”

“Why not? She has every reason to dump you,” she replied. Mingyu grabbed the phone from the holder and tapped the loudspeaker button so he could talk to his mother in private.

“I’ll call you later. Stop worrying about me and take care of yourself, alright? Good. Let’s talk soon. Okay. Bye, love you!” He then tossed the device into a compartment and mumbled under his breath. You might not speak his language, but you knew he just cursed in his mother tongue.

“Sorry about her,” he said awkwardly. “You see, I haven’t told them either.”

“Hmm, I see.”

“She asks about you all the time, you know,” he added, eyes fixed on the road. “Even after we broke up.”

“What do you tell her?” you probed, genuinely curious. If she did ask about you all the time, how come he couldn’t tell her about the breakup?

“Nothing much. Just that you’re fine and doing stuff,” he said, to which you hummed in response and then turned your gaze to the road.

“Are you?” he questioned, making you look at him. He glanced at you briefly. “Are you fine and doing stuff?”

“Who, me?” you chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine and doing stuff.”

“Really? What have you been up to these days?”

“Oh, you know. Small gigs for family or friends. Nothing official or permanent yet. I’m still on a break.”

You and Mingyu met in college as sophomores. He took up accounting, while you were an art student majoring in interior design. After college, he applied for jobs in major firms and got accepted immediately. Then for the next six months, he worked as an assistant for an executive–which served as his training before he signed a full contract. You, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about getting a job and securing a good salary. So you took your time, not making big decisions and enjoying your free time.

“So you’re freelancing?” Mingyu asked.

“I wouldn’t consider it freelancing since I’m not really available for hire any time. I just picked up some small projects for Allan’s house. The other is for Daphne’s department store. And I decorated for Sue as well. Remember her?”

“Yeah, I remember Sue. She was your new neighbor before I…” he stopped to clear his throat and finished, “Before I moved out.”

The sudden change of subject made your stomach turn. Looking back, you and Mingyu started living together in your fourth year of college. As spacious as it was, before he moved in, you had never eaten or cooked there. It was tidy, not because you purposely kept it clean, but because barely anyone stayed there who would make any mess– not even you who spent most of your time outside and only came home to sleep and bathe. Mingyu made it homely and warm.

At one point in your relationship, you told him you could never live there without him anymore. You could not imagine waking up without him on the bed, eating there without the food he made himself, or sitting in the living room without him to snuggle with. You told him that once and although he laughed about it, he also promised he would never leave you there alone. 

Long story short, he lied. Sure, you were the one who broke things off, but he was the one who left. That was the part that hurt most— the fact that he just agreed to break up without putting up a fight. You can only hope the best for him, you knew he was hoping the same for you anyway.

Attempting to dissolve the awkwardness, you decided to ask him about his job. “How was your job at the firm?”

“Oh, it’s great. I got regularized about two weeks ago,” he replied, looking pleased.

You knew that, one of your friends told you about it when it happened. “That’s amazing. I knew you would get the job.”

“Thanks. That’s immensely reassuring.”

You agree that it was such a reassuring thing to say, and you also regret not saying it when you were still together— when he needed to hear it the most.

“Good to know. You’ve always been easy to reassure,” you said as a passing comment. “I wish Blair was like that. I mean, honestly, how can she ask me to reassure her all the damn time but still remain pessimistic about everything?”

Mingyu chuckled heartily. “I guess the pregnancy is making her anxious, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not the pregnancy itself. It’s giving birth that she’s so scared of. Now that her due is near, everyone has been trying to give her pep talks.”

“It must be nerve-wracking.”

“I can’t say I know how it feels,” you chuckled derisively. “You wanna know what she’s naming the baby?”

“She picked one already?” he asked, glancing at you with an amazed smile.

“It’s Alfred.”

“Alfred?” Mingyu frowned, dismayed. The face he made was funny to you because you had the same negative reaction when you first heard it. 

“Yes. Alfred,” you snickered. "Tacky, isn't it?"

“No. I think it’s um…” He tilted his head a little. “It’s okay. Cool name. Alfred. Has a nice classy ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was just trying to patronize your sister. “She’s hell-bent on following our parents’ legacy by naming her children chronologically. We barely talked her out of naming the child Allan after my older brother.”

Mingyu hummed. “So if she had it her way, there would have been a ‘y/n Jr.’ in a couple of years.”

You giggled, leaning your head on the backrest as you started feeling drowsy. “I know, right? That would have been nice, and kinda weird too if you think about it.”

“So I almost became a godfather to an Allan Jr.?” he asked, bewildered. “Now that you mentioned it, it does sound a little strange for an Allan Jr. to exist as someone else’s child, not Allan’s himself.”

“Do you still want to be Alfred’s godfather?” you asked, remembering that Blair had requested Mingyu to be her son’s godfather when she first found out that she was pregnant. “I mean, would you still be up for it after we tell everyone that we’ve broken up?”

You saw Mingyu shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

That was such a play-safe answer, and also a ridiculous one especially since it was between him and Blair as friends; you had nothing to do with it. But you also recognized why it would depend on your opinion. To begin with, it was because of you that he made friends with your family. He would want you to be comfortable with it more than anything. And of course, regardless of how great their relationship was, you knew your family would take your side no matter what. Each time you remember this fact, you are reminded of the disappointment and pain that your breakup would bring upon your loved ones.

Something about the yuletide season tugs at your heartstrings each year. Everywhere you go, twinkling lights adorned the homes, business establishments, and the streets. Christmas brings a festive mood to the atmosphere and a unique blend of warmth, nostalgia, and anticipation that fills you with warmth despite the cold season. Your hometown is no different; each Christmas, it transforms into a wonderland of lights and decorations from house to house. In your own home, there is a warm sense of togetherness as your family gathers to share laughter, stories, and meals. 

You loved this mood, but this year is a little different. The festivity is still there, but the warmth of the familiar embrace has disappeared. The once-sweet scent of gingerbread in the air now had a bitter aftertaste to it that you knew was caused by the massive hole in your heart. And it didn’t help that the reason for this void was smiling next to you.

“Here we are,” he breathed, glancing sideways at you. It’s nightfall. The drive took four hours and you slept for most of it.

“The rules,” you reminded, making him nod. “Don’t forget them.”

“Alright, babe.”

“Babe?” you scowled, making Mingyu chuckle.

“Yes, ‘babe’,” he repeated, reaching for your hand on your thigh. “Come on, It’s only for the weekend.”

“Right. Only for the weekend,” you echoed, glancing at your joined hands.

Approaching the chateau, you marveled at the Christmas trees lined up along the driveway, and the glowing ornaments hanging on them. As you reach the entrance of the house, you can hear the low hum of amazement from Mingyu. Coming to the chateau always amazed him. Not that you can blame him. The chateau is magnificent— preserved and passed down through generations, it sits on a large estate and exudes grandeur and sophistication at every turn.

“Hello, sweetheart!” your mother greeted cheerfully, walking towards you with open arms.

You greeted her back with a smile, giving her a tight hug. As she approached Mingyu, you embraced the other members of your family who came out to greet you. 

“You arrived right on time for dinner,” your father stated, giving you a one-armed hug and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “I made your favorite.”

“You did?” you exclaimed, gleaming in delight. Your father puffed his chest proudly. “Aw, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Bean,” he replied, evidently pleased to have elicited a good reaction from you. He patted your shoulder before greeting Mingyu. “Mingyu, my boy! Welcome back.”

“Good evening, sir,” Mingyu beamed, shaking hands with your father but the latter pulled him into a hug. 

“It’s been a while,” said your father, smiling contently. “How have you been, son?”

“Very well, sir,” your ex-boyfriend replied as he let your father lead him into the house. As they went, you could hear some of their conversation. 

“Not as well as I have,” your father chuckled cockily. “Did you know I’ve been hitting the gym these days? Putting in some literal leg work.”

“Nice. Although I already know. Dave told me you were there once every week.”

“Of course. And what an excellent PT he was, Dave. You have my thanks for introducing me to him.”

You caught your mother by the arm as she was passing by you. “Dad’s been going to the gym?”

“Don’t get me started, y/n,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. She leans closer to speak in a quieter voice. “I’m glad that he’s exercising because it’s good for his health, but this thing which he calls ‘gains’ is making him vain and more annoying than usual.”

You snorted, unable to stifle your laughter. Your mother sighed with exasperation before turning to walk away from you. At that moment, you spotted Mingyu with your cousins, making you assume he was snatched away from your father’s grasp. They laughed as they chatted, contributing to the warmth permeating the atmosphere of the entire house. You couldn’t help admiring Mingyu, completely taken by his natural charm and charisma that make it easy for him to be friends with everyone.

Oh, to be Kim Mingyu— outstanding, endearing, compassionate; loved by all who meet him. Visually, he’s remarkably handsome, with his tan skin and prominent features, brilliant eyes that gleam with kindness, and a beautiful smile that lights up his face. He’s quick-witted and intelligent, capable of holding conversations about various subjects at different levels of seriousness. His sense of humor is the cherry on top, bringing laughter and joy to every gathering. He’s incredibly thoughtful too, not to mention caring. Whether it's helping out with chores, lending a listening ear, or surprising them with thoughtful gestures, Mingyu loved your family as much as he loved you. This is why he was able to build a strong connection with them, something you would hate to break if you were to reveal that you two have broken up.

In your family’s eyes, Mingyu is more than just your boyfriend; he's a part of the family, someone they wholeheartedly embrace and admire. Sometimes you’d think you fumbled when you broke up with him but then you get a flashback of the events leading up to the breakup and you realize nobody is perfect; not even the Golden Boy, Kim Mingyu.

“Everything alright?” he asked upon approaching you. He had caught you staring from across the hall while he was catching up with your cousins.

“Yeah. Mom said we should all head to the dining hall for dinner.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” he beamed, placing a hand on your waist as you led the way.

You headed straight to the dining area for dinner, where you got to meet the rest of your family who will be joining you for the weekend. Most of your relatives hold their own Christmas celebrations, the others who don’t get invited for a holiday break by those who want to host. Your mother is an excellent host, and she always sends Christmas invitations to your extended family, regardless of whether they can make it or not. As a matter of fact, Christmas at the Chateau is quite a popular recurring event in your family. That being said, there are always unfamiliar faces each year, as well as regulars who are more tight-knit with your immediate family.

“Dear lord, if it isn’t y/n,” said Aunt Lydia, a distant aunt whom you’ve only met a handful of times because she lived halfway across the globe and only showed up for important family functions. “Last time I saw you, you were wearing braces and corrective glasses. Now you’re a beautiful lady. Isn’t that right, Lena?”

Lena, her daughter, gave you a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. “It’s been a while, y/n.”

“You returned her sweet smile and let her hold your hand. 'Good to see you, Auntie. It’s been a long time. Good to see you too, Lena.' Their eyes were fixed behind you, making you glance back only to realize they were looking at Mingyu. He was chatting with some of your cousins, laughing about things you couldn’t comprehend from where you were standing.

“Is that your boyfriend? Mingyu, was it?” your aunt asked.

Your brows lifted, mildly surprised. “You know about Mingyu?”

“Oh, I heard about him. All good things,” she giggled. “I heard you’ve been together a long time?”

“I guess you could say that,” you chuckled awkwardly. At that same moment, Mingyu caught you looking so he smiled at you and then excused himself from your cousins. “I should introduce you to him.”

As soon as Mingyu was within reach, he snaked an arm around your waist, and you placed a hand on his shoulder as you motioned to your relatives.

“Auntie, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my aunt from Europe. You haven’t met her before because she rarely comes here.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Mingyu beamed, leaning towards the elder lady for a brief hug.

“And this is my cousin, Lena.”

“Lena. Nice to meet you,” Mingyu recited, shaking hands with your cousin. The reluctance on Lena’s face when Mingyu didn’t greet her the same way he greeted your aunt did not go unnoticed by you.

“Hi, Mingyu. Pleased to meet you,” she replied, chuckling nervously before backing away and fiddling with the ends of her blonde hair.

As observant as you were, you knew right then and there that Lena was attracted to your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend, although no one knows that yet. Nonetheless, you didn’t think much about it. It’s Kim Mingyu after all, loved by all who meet him. You couldn’t blame anyone who fell for him at first sight as it was the case for you when you first met him all those years ago.

It was at a college party, your third party in a week because everyone was trying to hold one to welcome the new semester. You had just transferred from another campus, and your friends were showing you around. Mingyu was by the poolside of that big house, dunking students into the water as a penalty for losing against him in arm wrestling. He seemed to enjoy the attention too, not shying away from it but not being cocky about it either. Both boys and girls surrounded him, all of them wanting to be friends with the most popular sophomore on campus.

Boys think he is cool, and girls, well, they’re girls—enamored by the handsome specimen, just like you were at that very moment. Daphne was the one who told you his name and added in his reputation for turning down girls without batting an eye. Not that you had any plans of confessing to him anyway. He was cute, yes, but that’s all. In no time, he’ll become nothing but a passing crush.

You were wrong, of course. He talked to you that night, asking for your name. The rest was history.

“So, Mingyu, how was work? I heard you got promoted to regular. Is that true?”

“It is. And work is wonderful. The firm really does live up to its name.”

“As they should,” an uncle of yours chuckled. “The family has been doing business with them for the longest time. We wouldn’t trust them if they weren’t any good.”

“Oh, so you're in business with them?” Mingyu glanced at you, and you shrugged as if to say you had no idea.

Your father hummed in response. “That firm oversees the estate's accounts, as well as the company’s books. You didn’t know, did you?”

'No, sir. I had no idea,' Mingyu responded, astonished.

“The founder, Mr. Harrington, happened to be a family friend,” interjected your eldest brother, Allan, a hint of amusement in his voice. “There were talks about exploring partnerships elsewhere, but when we heard you were working there, Dad seemed to have a change of heart.”

Your father chuckled warmly, eyes twinkling as he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “That’s enough, Al. Don't put pressure on the young man.”

“Oh, right. Speaking of that, is anyone going to the wedding?”

“Whose wedding?”

“Mr. Harrington’s daughter’s wedding. You did receive the invitations, didn’t you?”

Dinner table conversations are often like this; topics that span from individual career pursuits to the latest news in business or finance. As you go through the food, the conversations also transition to mundane topics or updates on family members, such as children’s school performances or how your cousin’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere on their way to the chateau. And then it would circle back to more profound or intellectual subjects.

Mingyu blends in effortlessly in your bunch, almost as if he belonged there to begin with. Given a chance, Mingyu would become the most welcome member of your family if you married him.

“Pathetic,” you mumbled to yourself, ridiculing your line of thought. Marriage with Mingyu? Are you serious? How could you possibly entertain the idea of marrying someone who let you leave without so much as a fight?

Your mood soured in an instant, so you stood up from your seat and excused yourself from the table as they all chatted away. The dinner was over but everyone was too immersed in their conversations to leave the table. Your feet brought you to a balcony overlooking the back garden and the pool area of the estate. It was cold but the tea was warm. Just when you thought you were alone to wallow in self-pity and overthinking, Mingyu's endearing voice called out your name, and his warm jacket settled on your shoulders.

“Everything alright?” he asked, standing behind you as he held your arms. “You left so suddenly.“

“I’m fine. Just a little stuffed,“ you told him, looking far beyond the dark horizon. The night sky was clear, with stars twinkling faintly above. As you took a deep breath, you pondered about the farce you and Mingyu were attempting to pull off this weekend. Is it worth the risk? Like hell, is it even necessary? You should have just told them the truth long ago and got it over with.

“Hey,“ Mingyu prompted, noticing your gloomy disposition. “What’s going on in your pretty little mind?“

You loved it when Mingyu talked to you like this, but not this time though. Given the situation you are in, the only thing he’s making you feel right now is annoyance and frustration.

“Stop that, Gyu,“ you grumbled, pulling away from his embrace. “There’s no need to act all lovey-dovey and sweet.“

Mingyu chuckled and looked around. “And make them wonder why we’re distant? That’s totally gonna convince them that we’re happily in love.“

Happily in-love? How can he say these things so carelessly? “We’re fine. No one’s suspicious.“

“We’ve been here three hours,“ he countered. “Back there, your mom was asking me if you were okay. If we’re going to make this work, shouldn’t we act like we usually do?“

“Fine.“ You rolled your eyes. “Just stick to the rules.“

The rules were simple: stay in character, respect boundaries, don't tell anyone, and end it once you leave the chateau. That’s it. You can’t just walk into this without precautions, can you? So you and Mingyu agreed on these rules, which are more your rules than his. Either way, you intend to be faithful to these rules as it is the only way to prevent this whole thing from spiraling out of control.

You went up first to freshen up and get ready for bed. You scanned the room to see how you’d share it with your ex. Considering Mingyu’s height, the long couch by the balcony would be cramped for him. Sure, he’d fit just fine but he’s the kind of sleeper who likes to sprawl on the bed and take up a lot of space. The floor would be cruel, but it has more space for sure.

“It’s better than the couch, right?” you mused aloud, making your way to the door to request an extra mattress. But hesitating, you withdrew your hand from the doorknob. The floor option suddenly seemed unwise because asking for an extra mattress would surely raise suspicions about the state of your relationship. Opting instead for the balcony couch, you arranged a pillow and sheets for Mingyu. Then after discreetly taking a sleeping pill, you passed out for the day.

Waking up and seeing Mingyu in the morning felt normal, that was until you realized he was across the room instead of right next to you in bed. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself up, your eyes still fixed on Mingyu’s sleeping figure.

“Must’ve been uncomfortable,” you mumbled to yourself.

The bed you used to share was warm, familiar, and comforting. His arms were strong, providing security as you awoke to his scent and the enveloping warmth of his presence each morning. Sometimes he'd be up and out of bed before you were, and you'd wake up to the nice aroma of coffee waiting for you in the kitchen. Other times, you'd wake him with a simple breakfast of eggs and pancakes, your culinary expertise may have been limited, but your affection was boundless.

There were also times when you'd both wake too early, your passion spurred in the hush of early morning hours. He'd be gentle and quick, but you liked those kinds of mornings. You used to think the mornings you shared with Mingyu were mundane, uneventful, and slow, but looking back, those mornings now shimmer with newfound appreciation. Now that it's gone and you're missing it, you couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that you might have taken it all for granted.

As you sat on the edge of your bed pondering, Mingyu stirred, taking a deep breath and letting out a long raspy exhale. He blinked at you several times, smiling once his vision became clearer.

“Good morning,” he sang. If you were still together, you’d immediately jump on him for a cuddle. Now that you’re not, it’s difficult to keep a straight face. You don't even know how to properly respond to that simple greeting.

“Morning,” you greeted back. Then again, if you were still together, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch to begin with. 

The land where the chateau sat is only a small part of the vast estate that your family owns. If one were to take a quick drive or a ten-minute hike up, they would find a meadow and a lake further ahead. As a child, you had picnics there often, especially in spring. In the winter, a white blanket of snow covers what used to be lush greenery, making it a perfect place for sledding. As such, it became a family activity every Christmas.

You stepped out of Mingyu’s car, blinking at the beautiful white canvas before you. Mingyu uttered a low “wow” as he approached you, smiling toothily while he tightened his padded jacket. You breathed the crisp air, exhaling through your mouth as you did. This wasn’t his first time sledding with your family, or experiencing the expansive landscape of your home. You had shared picnics with Mingyu in these areas, basking in the beauty of spring or summer. Those quiet moments are among your fondest memories with him.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyes gleaming. 

You shrugged. “I like it here better in spring.”

Behind you, you could hear the soft thuds of car doors being closed as your family members emerged from their vehicles.

“Oh, look! It’s perfect!” Blair cheered with her hands clasped together in delight. 

Your father chuckled heartily beside you and only then did you notice that he had caught up to you. He placed his arm over your shoulder, giving you a side hug as he said to your sister, “What did I tell you? That heavy snowfall last night will do us some good.”

Ecstatic, Blair dragged her husband towards the hill; the latter pulling a sled. Your cousins followed them, and your father too while you stood there pondering your choice to come here. Should you have just stayed with your mom and aunts back at home?

Allan approached Mingyu, giving him a nod. Mingyu smiled back, saying, “Hey, Al.”

“Hey. I don’t know how to say this but…” your brother paused, glanced over his shoulder at the excited children emerging from his car, and then shrugged at Mingyu. “Are you okay with a bunch of kids bothering you all day?”

“What does that even mean?” you interjected, although you weren’t part of the conversation.

“The boys want to go sledding with Mingyu,” Allan sighed, placing his hands on his waist. “Only with Mingyu.”

Mingyu chuckled. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Allan probed, looking somewhat apologetic. Mingyu nodded in assurance. “Okay, man. Thanks a lot.”

You watched as Mingyu approached your brother’s truck with a big goofy grin. Your nephews cheered his name before jumping into his arms at the same time. Mingyu laughingly carried the boys off the truck and you found yourself impressed by how strong he was to be able to carry two big kids. Then again, he had always been strong. He works out a lot and his efforts show in his toned physique. You know damn well how ungodly gorgeous he looks underneath those thick layers of clothing.

You gasped, shocked by your lewd thought. Shaking your head in an attempt to clear your mind, you muttered, “What the fuck.”

“Come again?” Allan asked cluelessly.

“I was talking to myself,” you deadpanned. Allan said he’ll follow the others up the hill so you nodded at him and told him you’ll stay to take pictures. He didn’t object to that so you grabbed the camera in the car and went to find a good spot to take pictures of everyone.

For the next hour, everyone went up and down the hill in their sleds, their cheers and laughter echoing through the air. Your father was dragging your little niece in her bright pink sled. Daniel and your cousins are on the other side of the hill, having a snowball fight. They would sometimes include you by throwing snowballs at you but you would dodge and threaten to punch them if they didn’t stop– as if your tiny fist would inflict any real pain. Even Allan who was just grinning around got roped into the fight. Blair didn’t give sledding another go after her first time because she didn’t find it ‘as fun as it looked’; so she’s down the hill making a snowman with her husband.

You made sure to take pictures of everyone. As you did, you found your lenses being directed at Mingyu more often than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be pretentious and say it was because he and the kids were adorable, but you knew that you just couldn’t help yourself. He was just too close to your heart and of course, him with kids is impossibly adorable.

“y/n! Show me the pictures!” your sister called so you trekked the snow back to where the cars were parked.

You let them scan through the photos and left to go up and meet your niece and father halfway up the hill. Your father seemed tired so you thought it was best to let him rest and take the kid off his hands.

“I think she’s tired too,” your father said, chuckling as you climbed down. “She must have snoozed on her sled twice.”

“She did?” you asked, turning to your niece. “Did you snooze, baby? Are you tired? Do you wanna go home with Mom?”

The darling little girl just shook her head, her eyes focused on her parents. When they spotted you, your brother-in-law happily took her off your arms. There was a quick chat before they decided to go back to the chateau and call it a day. Everyone followed suit, running down the hill back to the cars after being called back—everyone, except for Mingyu who walked down the other side of the hill instead. You decided to follow him, stopping Allan on your way.

“Where is he going?” you asked your panting brother. He’s got one kid on his shoulders and the other on the sled he was dragging.

“Who?” he asked, following your gaze. “Oh, Mingyu? Charlie’s sled went missing. He said he'd go find it.”

You went after Mingyu, hiking up the hill and trekking down to the other side where you found him heading straight into the sparse woods. Surely the sled didn’t go as far as into the woods, right?

“Kim Mingyu!” you called out, running after him. Your feet sank into the snow as you did, making it a little hard to run fast. “Mingyu!”

Mingyu stopped upon hearing you, turning to look at you and wave. “Come here!”

You frowned when you noticed that he was holding a sled. “Where are you going?”

He didn’t respond but instead, waited for you to catch up to him. As soon as you did, you pointed to what he was holding. “Is that Charlie’s?”

“Yeah, it slid all the way to that tree over there,” he replied, pointing to the tree but you didn’t bother to look.

“And? Where else are you planning to go? Everyone’s leaving.”

Still grinning goofily, he grabbed your gloved hand and said, “Let’s go to the lake.”

“The lake?”

“Yeah. I saw it from up the hill. It looked awesome.”

You scoffed. “It’s probably frozen.”

“I know. Let’s check it out,” he chimed, dragging you but you didn’t budge. That made him stop and glance back at you with a pout.

You looked away, feigning indifference. “It’s this way.” 

Mingyu trailed behind you, his hand still tight around yours. While you waded through the snowy path, you tried to remember if you had ever gone to the lake with Mingyu before. You have, a few times, but not in winter. Usually, there was nothing special or pretty about it in winter. As kids, you were forbidden from playing at the frozen lake in case the ice broke and you fell in, so you have never tried it before. There was just no reason to go there, except maybe to look around and pass the time.

“Oh, wow,” he exclaimed upon arriving at the spot. 

As expected, it was frozen. It wasn't even the picturesque, crystal-clear kind of frozen, but rather a boring, unremarkable freeze.

Disappointed, you said, “Nothing to see here."

“Are you kidding me? It looks really cool,” he replied, but you knew he was just being polite.

“It’s really not,” you deadpanned. 

Mingyu chuckled. “You’re right. It’s not.”

“Okay. Let’s go then,” you retorted, tugging him back to where you came from.

Mingyu resisted, pulling back with enough force to make you lose your balance and bump into him. He held you in place, his face close and his breathing warm against your cheek. With a goofy grin, he asked, “Ever ice-skated on a lake before?”

“No, and this is not that kind of lake.”

“You haven’t ice-skated on a lake before?” he asked incredulously. “But there’s a lake right here.”

“This is a dangerous lake.”

“Why?”

“Because...” you trailed off, searching for an explanation. “To be honest, I'm not even sure why.”

The massive grin on Mingyu’s lips made you roll your eyes. It was the kind of expression that said he wanted to go ice skating on the lake. You’re not even wearing the right shoes. You don’t know how deep the lake goes, and you have no idea how thick the ice has gotten.

“Don’t be stupid, Gyu.”

“Come on! It's gonna be fun!”

“I think you meant 'dangerous'.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised.

That made you grumble and stomp your feet a few times. “Ugh, fine!”

It was like releasing a dog from its leash in a park. Hand in hand, Mingyu excitedly rushed to the edge of the lake, where he cautiously tested the ice, first one foot and then the other. He took a few steps around and one small jump– then a big one that caused a surge of panic to grip you.

“Stop! What if it falls through?”

Mingyu threw his head back laughing. “It’s alright, the ice is pretty thick. Come here.”

You stared at the hand he was offering and then shook your head. Mingyu let out a small tut, seizing your hand firmly and guiding you toward the ice. You trod carefully as you went, looking down below at the murky water and wondering if it was solid enough to hold the two of you.

As you approached the center of the lake, Mingyu released your hand momentarily to zip up your jacket snugly. You pouted as he cupped your cheeks, still protesting at his idea of 'fun'.

"Just relax. I've got you. You'll be fine," he reassured, adjusting your beanie to shield your ears from the biting cold. You nodded, gradually getting used to the icy ground beneath your feet.

Just as you began to ease into the moment, breathing freely and feeling the tension in your muscles dissipate, Mingyu suddenly rushed forward, dragging you along with him toward the center. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing uncontrollably.

Your shrieks tore through the quiet air, overlapping with Mingyu’s ecstatic laughter. You clung to his hand tightly, scared for good reason. If the ice breaks and you fall in, at least you won’t die alone–that was what you were thinking as you closed your eyes and let Mingyu run around in circles. And while you grappled with the chaos in your head, his reassuring reverberated through your ears.

"It's okay," he consoled, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I've got you! Open your eyes, baby."

You did as he asked, reluctantly opening your eyes to be greeted by a broad, toothy grin from your charming companion. Was he really persuasive? Or were you simply taken aback by the endearment he just used on you? Yes, you know he had been calling you that ever since you got here so to avoid raising suspicions on your pretense, but why did it send a surge of nostalgia this time?

It almost felt like the relief of finally experiencing something you had missed so dearly.

“See? How fun is this?” he shouted, still running with you.

"Not fun at all!"

"Really?" he asked again, skeptical. "Not even a little?"

Of all the people you have met so far in your life, Mingyu had the most contagious smile which was why he had you smiling in no time. Before you knew it, you were running around the frozen lake, fear and anxiety long forgotten. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and sore from laughing too much. Your shrieks echoed across the icy surface as he took his turn chasing after you. You didn't even notice how your goofing around has turned into a spontaneous game of tag.

Lost in the moment, you lost track of time, the hours slipping away unnoticed as you enjoyed each other's company and indulged the children in you.

“Caught you!” he exclaimed triumphantly, tackling near the edge of the lake, and sending both of you tumbling onto the soft snow.

You lay there breathless and giggling, feeling both exhilarated and euphoric from your shenanigans. Glancing sideways at him, you found him already looking at you, and both of you burst into laughter at each other's flushed faces. The chill of the snow against your neck soon became unbearable, prompting you to sit up. With a playful tap on Mingyu's chest, you urged him to do the same.

“God, I’m so tired,” he complained but the smile on his face never left.

“Yeah. You’re crazy energetic,” you retorted, letting out a long exhale.

Mingyu scooted closer to you, wrapping a hand around your waist. “But you had fun.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned on his chest, comfortable in his warmth. “Yeah. I did.”

“Good. Let’s do that.”

“Do what?” you hummed, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that was engulfing you.

“Oh, you know. Loosen up and take things easy,” he replied and that made you pull away to look at him.

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning we should stop worrying about it.” He tapped your nose affectionately, a warm smile on his lips. “It’s Christmas. Let's have fun.”

You sighed, the weight of your concerns heavy in your mind. "But that's not why we came here."

"I know," he acknowledged with a groan. "We'll get there eventually. For now, let's just... you know... forget about it. Just for now."

He was staring at you intently and you couldn’t help but stare right back. Everything about this moment was overwhelming—the cold, his warmth, his gaze, the proximity—everything. You both sat there face to face, quietly staring and speaking with your eyes only. At one point, it seemed as if you had come to a mutual decision on something, but you sat there waiting for him to make the first move.

“God, you look so beautiful in this light.”

Your heart somersaulted in your chest, but you were so tensed that you tried to humor the nerves away. “Did you just quote Ed Sheeran?”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed slightly, but his affectionate gaze remained. “And you’re so adorable too.”

At this point, your soul has left your body out of sheer joy. Still, you couldn't resist teasing him in response. “Duh, Mingyu. Tell me something I don’t know?”

“I could kiss you right now.”

You exhaled sharply. “Well, don’t be shy now.”

As Mingyu leaned in for a kiss, you closed your eyes in anticipation. You could already feel his breath fanning your face but before his lips could meet yours, the sound of car horns honking nearby shattered the beautiful air enveloping you. Startled, a loud gasp escaped your lips while Mingyu swiftly withdrew.

“What the actual f–” You stood up and spun to see whoever it was and spotted a pickup truck from a distance. Daniel’s head popped out from the window of the driver’s seat, followed by his shouting.

“What are you guys doing out here?” your brother called out, pressing on the horns again. “Everyone’s looking for you back at the chateau!”

You grumbled, stomping your feet as you walked towards the vehicle looking annoyed. Mingyu grabbed the sled he was looking for earlier and followed behind you. When you reached the truck, you stood by Daniel’s window with a deep scowl.

“Everyone thought you guys were dead or something,” he quipped, rolling his windows up just before you started pounding on it irritably.

“What? Can’t I have some alone time with my boyfriend?” you huffed, kicking the tire when you failed to open the door.

Daniel was making faces at you from inside the car while Mingyu chuckled behind you. He gently squeezed your shoulder to calm you down, but you glared at him instead. Mingyu instinctively backed away, raising his hands in surrender.

"Surely you won't take it out on your boyfriend, will you?" he asked with a coy grin. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and seeing this, Mingyu puffed out his chest proudly and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "I am your boyfriend, right?"

“Gosh, men are so annoying,” you whined, reaching for the backseat door so you could climb into the car.

Making gingerbread houses is a serious activity in your house; it was a while competition between you, your sister, and everyone else who wants to challenge. As such, it has become your favorite activity since you were a child. You were amazing at it and would always come out on top with your intricate designs and sturdy outputs. That was when Mingyu wasn’t in the picture yet. Now, you’ve been on a lose streak for three Christmases in a row and this year doesn’t look promising either. 

“Mingyu! Careful with that!” you warned as he placed the roofing for your house. Mingyu froze mid-air, glancing at you nervously.

“I think you should do it,” he pleaded, chuckling nervously.

You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you carefully took the piece from his hand. Mingyu is a good cook, but pastry? Definitely not his forte. His big hands are among your favorite features of his, but it’s useless in any activity that requires careful handling and finesse.

Blair rounded the counter and approached you. She took a big sniff and said, “Hmm, it smells like a loser over here.”

You scoffed, nudging her elbow. “Go away!”

With immense focus, you placed the roofing on your gingerbread house successfully, dusting your hands contently right after. 

“You’re so good at this,” Mingyu whispered next to you, beaming. Proud, you scrunched your nose at him and opened your mouth when he offered a piece of bread for you to eat. 

“Daniel, dear,” your mother called from the doorway, catching everyone’s attention. “Come help with the tree.”

Daniel skipped across the room to your mom, making your cousin Sydney sigh in relief of finally getting rid of the blackhole in her team. 

“Mingyu, you too please.”

Mingyu nodded at her and turned to you to say, “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you replied, not even glancing at him as he scooped your cheek for a kiss. “It’s okay if you don’t. I might have a bigger chance of winning if you don’t.”

“Where are they going?” Lena asked, eyeing the doorway.

“Mom’s probably setting up the Christmas tree for tonight,” you replied.

“Why? Isn’t there already a Christmas tree?” Lena questioned.

“It’s a chateau tradition,” Sydney explained. “Before Christmas Eve dinner, we decorate a tree as a whole family using special ornaments.”

“Special ornaments?”

Aunt Lydia, interjected, “Ornaments that hold sentimental value, Lena. This house has been in the family for generations and has seen over a hundred Christmases. Our family loves to look back and think about the history that has shaped this very family into who we are today.”

Lena hummed in amazement. “That’s so awesome and special.”

“It is.” You smiled, mirroring the fond looks on Blair and Sydney’s faces.

“It’s pompous if I do say so myself,” said a familiar voice entering the kitchen hall. You spun to see your Aunt Sylvie walk in with a charismatic air about her. She sauntered in, heels clicking on the floors. “It’s a reminder that we are high-born snobs. Trust fund babies who never have to work a day in our life and still live a life of luxury.”

“Oh, god,” Sydney muttered beside you, looking mortified. “She’s so late.”

“Hello, children,” she lilted, winking at you specifically when you met her gaze. Your heart felt full, forever in awe of your favorite relative.

“Sylvie?” your Aunt Lydia exclaimed.

Sylvie’s smile got redirected. “How nice of you to finally join us, Lydia. I couldn’t believe it when they told me.”

They both laughed as they embraced. Lena’s mom grinned playfully at aunt Sylvie. “Still living the high-born snobbish life?”

Sylvie tutted confidently. “It’s what I do best.” 

At first glance, Aunt Sylvie is no different from the rest of the family, but she’s the wild card. In a family known for its polished manners and prestigious accomplishments, she stood out like a rose in a garden of daisies. She lives a privileged life while staying unapologetically herself. Her laugh was always loud and infectious, her stories filled with both gossip and adventures.

“Going for the win this year, huh?” Aunt Sylvie remarked as she examined your work.

“That’s the plan,” you replied with a grin.

“Well, good luck. You have my vote, no matter what,” she promised, reaching for the wine bottle on the counter.

Blair protested, “Hey, that’s cheating!”

“Playing favorites, that’s what it is,” Sydney pouted. Aunt Sylvie giggled, sauntering over to Sydney and planting a playful kiss on her cheek. Sydney just rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still my favorite daughter,” Sylvie teased, tucking a strand of Sydney’s hair behind her ear before strolling away with her glass of red wine.

“That’s because I’m your only daughter!” Sydney shouted after her, a smile tugging at her lips as her mother exited the kitchen.

Mingyu, Daniel, and Sydney’s boyfriend, Luke, burst into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter filling the room. Everything was going smoothly until Mingyu bounded over to you, knocking over your intricately decorated gingerbread Christmas tree. The tree, which you had painstakingly adorned with candy ornaments and icing, was supposed to be the crowning jewel of your work. Now, it lay in a heap of crumbs on the kitchen floor.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, staring blankly at the mess. “Kim Mingyu…”

“Oh, damn, did I do that?” he asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Neither of you could figure out how it happened; one moment it was standing, and the next it was on the floor.

Allan’s wife looked over, her eyes widening at the sight. “Oh, no, Y/N,” she exclaimed sympathetically.

Everyone else hurried over to see what had happened, their faces mirroring the same look of pity for you.

“I knew it smelled like a loser over here,” Blair snickered, unable to resist the jab.

The room fell silent for a moment before you managed a rueful smile. “Well, there goes my masterpiece.”

Mingyu sheepishly picked up a piece of gingerbread. “I’ll help you rebuild it,” he offered, his tone earnest and apologetic.

Daniel couldn’t hide his grin. “And destroy it again for good measure.”

The room was soon filled with laughter and playful teasing, all at your expense. You just took it in stride, although you were a little disheartened. Amidst all that, Mingyu pulled you into a warm hug, even kissing the top of your head.

“That’s okay, baby. Winning is great, but it’s nothing if you didn’t have fun doing it together,” he consoled you, although you could tell he was just teasing you like everyone else.

“Go away,” you scolded playfully.

It was as if you had never broken up at all. You shared more than just the playful moments at the lake or sweet displays of affection in the kitchen. During the family tree decorating, you and Mingyu were wrapped in your own world, laughing and giggling as you both struggled to untangle a string of lights—only to end up getting scolded for not helping enough.

For the Christmas Eve dinner, you wore an elegant green dress that received a dramatic round of applause from Mingyu. He stood up, clapping with exaggerated enthusiasm and making everyone laugh. You joined your family at a beautifully set dinner table, sharing stories and laughter over the delicious meal. You sat opposite Mingyu, which gave you both the perfect excuse to exchange loving glances throughout the evening, basking in the warmth and acceptance from everyone around you.

After dinner where Blair won the gingerbread house contest for the second time in a row, everyone gathered in the movie room, snuggling together under warm blankets. Your head rested on Mingyu’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulder. Both of you felt content and at home in each other’s embrace. As the movie ended, the younger kids were tucked into bed, and the older family members began to retire to their rooms. You and your cousins had other plans.

In the cozy warmth of the game room, where you and the other young adults gathered for some unchaperoned bonding time of your own, the game of charades became wildly competitive and chaotic. You and Sydney huddled together on a big sofa, guessing the answers that the boys were acting out, groaning and cheering with everyone else as the game progressed. Drinks flowed freely, light and festive, keeping spirits high.

At one point, when the game got boring, everyone settled in front of the fire, sharing stories and cracking jokes. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on your faces, and the room was filled with the comforting sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Everything was perfect, beautiful new memories were being made.

And then Mingyu managed to convince you to go out for a walk. Bundled up in sweaters and padded jackets, you clung to his arm for support, letting the cool winter evening sober you up. Mingyu kept cracking jokes, and you laughed like you were in a stand-up comedy bar. This went on until both of you reached the pool and decided to turn back.

The weather was cold, but the atmosphere was warm and sweet. And the smell—strangely enough, you enjoyed the sweet, smoky scent coming from the chimneys, much like how some people find the earthy smell after a rain shower pleasant and refreshing.

“What are you thinking about?" Mingyu asked, slinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“Nothing, I…” you took a deep breath as you started walking back to the main house. "I just love Christmas.”

“I can see why,” he chuckled lightly, pressing a quick peck on the side of your head.

You rolled your eyes and moved your head a few inches away from him. “Hey, that’s rule number one.”

“Actually, it’s rule number two,” he corrected, grinning. “And can I please break it?”

“You’re only asking me that now? Literally, after you were done breaking it?”

Mingyu nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Gosh, you’re so…” you huffed incredulously, taking his arm off your shoulder and walking ahead of him.

“Wait. Let’s go together,” he called, chuckling.

When he caught up to you, he held your hand and intertwined your fingers. His smile was warm, and also very goofy. You scoffed and laughed, unable to hide how charmed you were by him. Quietly, you trekked back to the house, your breaths visible in the cold air.

“Hot tub?” he asked as soon as you were in front of your bedroom door.

You were taken aback by the offer. “What?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, equally flustered. He then cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face. “I don’t mean… that. I meant you should get a warm bath in the hot tub before… Ugh, fuck.”

Mingyu turned away, burying his face in his palms and muttering curses under his breath. You, on the other hand, were still processing the situation. You were shocked that he was offering the hot tub, only to find out he didn’t mean it the way you understood it.

“God, it’s in my head now.”

“What is?” you asked, belatedly realizing it was a bad question. You should have known what he was trying to say. The hot tub in the bathroom of your bedroom was a very intimate place for the two of you. A hiccup escaped your lips as you put two and two together.

Awkwardly, you pushed the door open and said, “I’m gonna go ahead.”

You walked briskly inside the bedroom, eager to avoid being in the same space as Mingyu. But then you turned around and saw that he had walked inside too. How did you even forget that you were sharing this room?

There was a moment of silence as you both stood there, tension wrapping the room. Mingyu finally broke the ice, his voice soft and hesitant. “Look, I’m sorry if I made things weird.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, it’s okay. I just… didn’t expect it.”

Mingyu took a step closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t even mean it that way.”

You smiled faintly, feeling the warmth of his sincerity. “I know. Thanks, Mingyu.”

He grinned, the awkwardness slowly melting away. “How about I start the bath for you?”

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “That would be nice.”

Mingyu moved to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of water filling the tub. You took off your jacket and sat on the edge of the bed, your mind swirling with thoughts. Soon, Mingyu returned, his eyes gentle as he said, “It’s ready.”

You stood up and walked to the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. “Do you want to join me? I mean, it was cold out there.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled softly. “You said that’s rule number two.”

You nodded. “I know.”

“Is it alright with you?”

You nodded again, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. “It is.”

Both of you undressed and slipped into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you in a soothing embrace. Mingyu sat across from you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable, the heat of the water matched by the growing warmth between you.

Mingyu reached out, his hand finding yours under the water. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured.

I’ve missed you, you screamed in your head. You could never say it out loud, so you just squeezed his hand gently and said, “Me too.”

The bath was a haven of warmth and quiet conversation, the water relaxing your muscles and easing the tension between you. After a while, you both got out and dried off, slipping into comfortable pajamas.

Back in the bedroom, you climbed into bed, tapping the space beside you when you saw Mingyu heading for the couch. He took your invitation and slid in beside you. You both lay there in the dark, the silence a total contrast to the chaos in your head. Finally, he turned towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your voice soft and content.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, the awkwardness of the evening was replaced by a comforting sense of closeness. The warmth of his embrace and the sound of his breathing lulled you to sleep, both of you feeling at home in each other’s arms once more.

Waking up beside Mingyu felt like stepping back in time, the familiarity of his presence was bittersweet. He lay there, peaceful in the soft glow of the winter morning. You were just beginning to forget how it felt like to wake up next to him, now here he is, looking as breathtaking as you remembered him to be. This whole pseudo-relationship setup truly was a bad idea because you can already picture yourself resetting your moving-on process back to Day 1.

Or maybe, by the end of this, there will be no need to forget and move on, you pondered to yourself, feeling hopeful.

You fought with the urge to reach out and touch him, to let your fingers trace the lines of his face, reminding yourself that you were no longer in that kind of relationship. After all, you had made it clear that this was no longer that kind of relationship.

But wait… Why were you so hesitant about touching him? You were literally in the same hot tub the night before, bare and naked. Why would you be so wary about something as innocent as running your fingers through his hair? Hadn't you already crossed boundaries far more intimate than this?

Swallowing your pride and the lump in your throat, you slowly extended a hand to touch his face. Slowly, carefully, making sure you don’t wake him up. Just as you were feeling the warmth emanating from his skin, the ringing of your phone on the nightstand snapped you back into reality. Cursing under your breath, you snatched the phone from the nightstand, the name "Daphne" flashing insistently on the screen.

Your movements made Mingyu stir, groaning lowly as he stretched his legs out; sleepy eyes directed at you. With a raspy voice, he said, “Hi.”

“Hi. Sorry,” you mouthed, phone pressed on your ear. “Daph, hello. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you while you’re spending the holidays with your beau– oh, ex-beau,” she teased, snickering from the other line. “How is it? Have you got back together yet?”

“Please shut up,” you laughed nervously, eyeing Mingyu. You excused yourself and headed to the bathroom to speak with your friend in private.

“I guess it’s not going so well, huh?” she asked just as you were locking the bathroom door.

“Daph, the purpose of this trip is not to get back together,” you insisted, rolling your eyes although she could not see it. “Where did you even get that idea?”

Grumbling, you snatched your toothbrush and put toothpaste on it to clean your teeth with.

“I don’t know. Maybe from my exuberant interior designer who was just shopping with me the other day,” she retorted, poking fun at you. “Alright, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you. I actually called to let you know that I got called into the store because some materials came in that I don’t remember ordering. So, naturally, I assumed these are for the renovations?”

“What are they?” you asked back with the toothbrush still in your mouth.

“It says here that these are gold-plated clothing racks, premium quality.”

You hummed, confused. “I didn’t order anything like that.”

“Oh, is that so? Alright. Maybe I did. Or someone I know,” she sighed and tutted. “Anyway, I’ll sort this out. Sorry to bother you.”

“Call me anytime, Daph,” you told her, your eyes darting to the bathroom door when you heard a loud thud from outside.

“I will. Tell everyone I said ‘hi’. And don’t swoon over your ex too much.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, exasperated. 

“Merry Christmas, sugar.”

“Merry Christmas.”

When you pushed through the door, you found Mingyu sitting on the edge of the bed, looking dazed with messy hair and a tired stare. He lifted his gaze when he noticed you, and flattened his lips into a sleepy smile.

“What happened?” you asked worriedly, taking notice of the blanket and pillow on the floor.

“Oh, nothing, I just…” Mingyu sighed, scratched his neck, and stretched it sideways. “I fell.”

You gawked at him. “You fell?”

He nodded, sheepish. You exhaled sharply, not even surprised. Mingyu, as big as he is, is by far the clumsiest person you’d ever met.

“Go wash up,” you instructed, walking towards the pile of beddings to pick them up. Instead of heeding your order, Mingyu snatched you by the waist, making you squeal as he swept you up and fell on the bed with you.

You tried to free yourself from his arms, but he was stronger than you by miles. “Let me go, Gyu.”

He hummed his disapproval and nuzzled on your neck. “Let’s stay in bed all day today, okay?”

“No,” you whined, squirming but he pinned you down. Despite your efforts to escape, he only seemed to take it as a challenge, launching into a relentless tickle attack.

“Kim Mingyu! No!” you warned sternly, pointing your index finger at him in an attempt to assert authority..

The grin that he gave you was menacing. “Kim Mingyu, yes.”

“Mingyu, I swear to God I will— aaaagh!” Shrieks and laughter filled your bedroom, along with Mingyu’s taunting and deep grunts each time you kicked his shins or punched his chest. He kept going until tears started streaming from your eyes from too much laughter. Only when your pleading voice began cracking did Mingyu stop.

“Gosh. You’re so annoying!” you sobbed, infuriated. He laid beside you on the bed, wrapping you back in his embrace.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I was just playing around with you.”

“Well, it was not fun! Playing is supposed to be fun!” you scolded, swatting his arm away.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he shushed.

But you continued whining. “No, you’re not!”

You managed to get away from him and leave the bed to slump on the sofa and sulk. Mingyu sighed, although he looked genuinely apologetic. He always teased you like this, knowing how ticklish you were. And you always responded this way too, sulking and whining as much as you want.

“Baby…” he called softly, making his way to you.

“Don’t you call me that!” you retorted sharply.

Mingyu chuckled. “Okay, sweetheart.”

You scoffed. “What are you, my mom?”

“Then, ‘honey’ maybe?” he chimed.  You pushed him away with your foot, but he kept himself rooted in place, easily.

“Go away!”

"What about, 'darling'?" he continued, kneeling before you as he set your foot back down. He placed a gentle kiss on your knee, his lips lingering before trailing up your thigh. "My angel?"

The way he caressed your thigh tickled you in a way that was entirely different from what he did a while ago. This time was more sensitive, and pleasant… very pleasant.

“My love?” he sang, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

You snatched your hand back, sighing as you scooted a little on the couch. “Stop it.”

Mingyu occupied the space next to you, touching your chin and lifting it so your eyes would meet his. “Why? I said I was sorry. Do you hate me for real?”

"No," you admitted with a pout, looking away. He gently redirected your gaze back to him.

You held his gaze, still scowling, but Mingyu's sweet smile softened your expression. He studied your face as if he didn’t already know it by heart, his eyes lingering on your lips. You flattened them together to discourage his advances, but he only chuckled and tapped your nose.

“You’re so cute,” he remarked.

You scoffed. “I know. Can’t say the same for you, though.”

Mingyu threw his head back in laughter before fixing his gaze on your lips again. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you, but before it could happen, loud knocks on your bedroom door interrupted the moment. Mingyu rose to open the door, revealing your oldest brother dressed as Santa Claus, complete with a fluffy white beard and a jolly laugh.

“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, children!” Allan greeted, drawing candies from his bag and throwing them in the air.

“Ha ha. It’s Santa,” you deadpanned, unamused.

Allan looked at Mingyu and then at you. “Good. You’re both decent. Let’s go open some gifts.”

He then walked away with his Santa laugh, while Mingyu beckoned you to the door. You said you’d wait for him, so he hurried to the bathroom to freshen up and while he was in there, you were scolding yourself for the way things are going. You kept reminding yourself that there is no getting back together, just making your family happy. That conversation with Daphne was a needed wake-up call.

“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked when he stepped out of the bathroom. You nodded and so you went to join your parents together. 

Everyone’s gathered in the living room, some of them still yawning and out of it. The kids were excited, jumping around and rushing to Mingyu when they saw you two descending the stairs. 

A younger kid, wide-eyed with excitement, piped up, "Your friend is not coming today, Mingyu?"

"Yeah, the Grinch friend!" another kid exclaimed.

“Grinch! Grinch! Grinch!”

You chuckled, knowing exactly who they were referring to. It was from last year when Daniel was Santa and Mingyu decided to come as The Grinch. But instead of ruining Christmas, he spoiled the kids with huge supplies of chocolates and sweets. You can still remember how the moms reacted to that— mad. But since he’s Mingyu, he got away with it.

As the family gathered around the Christmas tree, you all took turns opening presents. Santa, aka Allan, gleefully announced each gift, adding to the festive atmosphere. Then, amidst the wrapping paper and excitement, you heard Santa call out that Mingyu had something for you. You were surprised, considering you had agreed not to exchange gifts this year.

With a sheepish grin, Mingyu handed you a small box. Inside was a delicate necklace, simple yet elegant, just your style. You couldn't help but smile, touched by the gesture.

“Thank you,” you told him, examining the jewelry.

“You’re welcome,” he chimed, his hand pressed in the middle of your back.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” your father prompted after a few seconds. “Put it on her!”

“Yeah!”

For the amusement of your family, Mingyu put the necklace on you himself, his fingers deftly fastening the clasp as everyone watched with amusement. It was small moments of intimacies like this that will convince your family that everything is fine— that Mingyu is a part of you, of them.

The excitement of opening gifts soon subsided, and a long table of breakfast buffet was brought in for those who wanted to eat. While you sat to eat with some of your family members, the others went out to play in the snow. You watched them from the large windows, smiling absent-mindedly as Mingyu, in his element, was building a snowman with your niece while fending off the snowballs being thrown at him by the little boys. He was so good with the kids and they loved him so much for it.

“So, when did you two get back together?” your Aunt Sylvie prompted casually as she sliced through her waffles.

Caught off-guard, you blinked. “I’m sorry. What?” 

“I thought you broke up with him?” she asked again and suddenly, the vivid memory of you drunk calling your aunt and wailing about how you broke up with Mingyu flashed in your mind.

You opened your mouth to speak but your other cousin Felicity cut you off. “You guys broke up?”

“What? When?” Blair chimed in, visibly confused.

Aunt Sylvie erupted into laughter, though a hint of awkwardness lingered beneath her merriment. “Sorry, y/n. I got you mixed up with your other cousin. She and Billy parted ways over the summer.”

“Right,” you acknowledged, a wave of relief washing over you as the memory of your tipsy phone call to Aunt Sylvie resurfaced.

“Oh, of course, Auntie Sylvie. Tricia was here with her new boyfriend.”

“Hmm. I know. I thought it was Billy, to be honest. She certainly has a type,” she told Sydney who just giggled.

Sydney's voice rang out with conviction. “There’s no way y/n and Mingyu would break up.”

"Of course." Aunt Sylvie's laughter gradually subsided as the misunderstanding was clarified. “Say, Blair, aren’t you due to give birth this month?”

“No. Seriously,” Sydney interjected, her tone firm. “I know people break up all the time, but y/n and Mingyu are just… different. They’re so in love, it’s actually enviable sometimes.”

“That’s true. They’re so compatible, it’s almost hard to believe such a relationship exists,” your cousin added, her words laced with admiration.

“Guys…” you chimed in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and guilt as all eyes turned to you.

“Have you seen Mingyu? That guy is down bad.”

“Agreed. So bad. He’s in deep,” Sydney chuckled, reminiscing. “Did you know he used to bring her flowers every day when we were in college? Every. Single. Day.”

“He even sang to her once,” Blair teased, shooting you a playful look. “Which was adorable, considering he’s not a singer.”

“Definitely not.”

“So he’s a simp?” one person quipped, prompting laughter from the group.

“But did you see the way he looked at her?” Lena interjected. “I’ve only met the guy this weekend, but I can tell by the way they look at each other.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen it, Len. You should see them when they’re playing or just hanging out by themselves. They are in love.”

“And even when we’re all gathered together, these two always have their own world. It's like they’re here, but they are also in their own separate bubble at the same time.”

“He’s so sweet too. He seemed to know exactly how to make y/n feel confident and pretty and loved… You know what I’m saying?”

“Honestly!” one of your older cousins affirmed. “One time my little girl asked me why her dad and I weren’t as sweet as you guys.”

Felicity snickered. “Yeah. I was there at the time, and when I tell you, I screamed!”

“She’s four, guys. Four. She doesn’t even know that my name is not ‘Mom’,” she added, eliciting laughter from the group.

“Well, my sister said she’ll find herself someone like Mingyu,” Sydney recounted, causing Aunt Sylvie to gasp.

“Rue? She said that?”

“Oh, yeah, she did. You better watch out, y/n. She might come for your man when she finds out how hard it is to find someone remotely close.”

The perception of a "perfect" couple often serves as a beacon of hope for others, a shining example of enduring love in a world filled with uncertainty. People hold onto these ideals, weaving fantasies of their own fairytale romance inspired by the ideal relationship they see before them. But what happens when that illusion is shattered?

If you and Mingyu were their definition of true love, the news of your breakup would undoubtedly come as a shock to those who idolized your relationship. It might even shake the foundation of their belief in lasting love, causing them to question if such a thing truly exists. Will it be your fault if little children like Sabrina’s daughter stop believing in true love?

But the truth is, you and Mingyu were never meant to be seen as perfect or ideal. Like any other couple, you had your flaws and imperfections, but you chose to keep them to yourselves. Your struggles were kept behind closed doors, known only to you and Mingyu as you worked through them together. No one ever witnessed your arguments or disagreements because you believed you must not involve other people in your private business. And perhaps it was this commitment to privacy that led others to believe that your breakup was impossible. But as much as they may have wanted to believe in the fairytale of your love story, the reality is that relationships are complex and sometimes, they don't end happily.

So no, it wouldn't be your fault if people stopped believing in love because of your breakup. Love is not defined by the length of a relationship or the perceived perfection of a couple. It's a journey filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, even endings. And while your breakup may have shattered the illusion of a fairytale romance for some, it doesn't change the fact that what you had was beautiful and the love that they witnessed was true.

Blair’s hand on your arm pulled you out of your musings. With a smile, she said, “I’m not trying to skip ahead or anything, but if you and Mingyu do end up getting married, it will probably be the best match I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“Amen!” Felicity cheered, raising her glass in the air. The others did the same, except you who gazed outside the window where you could see Mingyu.

As if aware that someone was watching him, Mingyu glanced back at you, waving happily when he spotted you.

The festivities continued in your home for the rest of the day, with everyone doing their own thing but in the same room. Kids were running around, and adults were chatting over wine and snacks. You joined your mother at the stairs as she watched the festivities with a fond look on her face.

“Look at them,” she told you when you approached her and wrapped your arms around her waist. 

You hummed, looking at your family. “Yeah. They’re so noisy.”

Your mother chuckled heartily, rubbing your back. “But don’t you just love this sight? Everyone is smiling and laughing. Everyone is present to spend Christmas with us.”

“Yeah, well. I guess it’s nice,” you replied, feigning indifference despite understanding her sentiments. Like her, you breathed a contented sigh, watching your family.

“You know, I didn’t grow up with Christmas traditions. Unlike most families, mine didn’t care much for Christmas,” she began, making you glance at her. “Your grandparents divorced when I was little. They would send a gift and a card each year but I knew neither of them picked those for me. It was probably their assistants. There is no way my father would know I liked unicorns,” she laughed heartily.

“That’s terrible. I could never imagine a Christmas that’s different from what we have every year,” you confessed. 

“I know. Marrying your father gave me the chance to celebrate something so beautiful with a family who may not be the most perfect but just as special.”

Your eyes were fixed on your father, dancing groovily in the middle of the room to an old tune your uncle had just put on. He pointed at your mother, beckoning her to join him. She did, happily so. Everyone cheered as they danced together, ever-loving and sweet to each other. It was a heartwarming sight, and you realized that if there’s a couple to look up to, it’s your parents—the most compatible pair. She was the calm to his storm, the peace to his chaos. He brought color to her monotonous life. While he spoke impulsively, she grounded him with thoughtful words. While he spoiled you and your siblings, she kept the household in check. They were the perfect balance, each complementing the other. When they said there was a woman behind every successful man, they must have been right.

You watched fondly as everyone cheered for your parents, the other couples eventually joining in. Your eyes met Mingyu’s in the crowd, and he gestured for you to join him on the dance floor. You shook your head briskly. If there’s one thing you’d never do, it’s dancing in front of other people.

“Come on, love!” he called out again.

“No way. I’ll pass. Have fun, though.”

He insisted, and soon your other relatives joined in, urging you to dance. But you stood your ground. When Mingyu started walking towards you, you bolted up the stairs, heading straight for your bedroom. Mingyu was hot on your tail, calling your name playfully while you shrieked. You fumbled with the door, trying to lock it as soon as you got inside, but Mingyu pushed through before you could bolt it shut.

“There is no parallel universe where you can outrun me, baby,” he breathed, pulling you by the waist so you’re flush against him.

“I’d still try, though,” you exclaimed, breathless and laughing, as Mingyu wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around the room. “You never give up, do you?”

“It depends on the fight, honestly,” he confessed, making you stop as you began overthinking again. However before you could form a coherent thought, Mingyu gave you a lift.

It made you laugh, and when your feet touched the floor again, you eased into the moment, staring at Mingyu as you swayed around the room. The music was faint and barely audible, coming all the way from the great hall downstairs. You had always known you were a terrible dancer, but Mingyu was good at it. It was easy to follow his lead, almost as easy as getting lost in the depths of his gaze. You were completely absorbed, totally entranced. How could you not be when he looked at you like his life depended on it?

“You're doing great,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. His hand on your waist guided you gently, and you felt a surge of confidence. 

“I know I’m not good, Gyu,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to lie.”

"But you’re perfect now," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Just follow me."

With each step, you fell into a rhythm, moving together in a seamless dance. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in until it felt like there was nothing but the two of you, swaying in the quiet of your bedroom and making a memory you probably would never forget.

“You make it easy,” you whispered, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the dance. 

Mingyu's smile widened, and he spun you gently, bringing you back into his arms with a flourish. “You make everything better,” he said softly.

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. Before you could respond, he dipped you low, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he brought you back up, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your face.

The world around you blurred and the faint music from downstairs became a distant hum. All you could see, all you could feel, was Mingyu. The intensity of his gaze, the way his arms held you so securely, the way his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.

Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft at first, then deepened as the emotion between you surged. The kiss was a blend of longing, unspoken words, and unfulfilled promises, and it felt like coming home. It was like you lost something and only found it now. It felt like you belonged there; like this is the only thing you have and will ever know.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he said, making you scoff.

“Are you regretting it?”

“No!” he denied, throwing his head back as he laughed. “I just didn’t think you would let me.”

You playfully hit his arm, and he caught your hand, still chuckling. You rested your head on his chest, swaying gently with him. After a moment, Mingyu stopped and took a deep breath.

“So…“ he began, making you look up at him. “Do you wanna… make out or something?“

You laughed incredulously, both embarrassed and amused. “Why are you acting like we’re teenagers?“

“I haven’t really grown much after my teenage years,“ he said, shrugging. “So this has basically been my height since I was eighteen. You know, I was taller than my dad, which was crazy because—“

You cut him off with a kiss, frustrated by his nervous rambling. That's just another reason why he’s so endearing; he becomes a blabbering mess when he's nervous.

“You’re yapping,” you told him after parting from his lips. “Don’t be nervous. It’s just me.”

Mingyu laughed nervously. “That’s the thing. It’s you… I’m nervous because it’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were grinning. “You think sweet talk will sweep me off my feet?”

He shrugged. “Not really, but I do know how to sweep you off your feet.”

“How?”

Without warning, Mingyu lifted you into his arms, literally sweeping you off your feet, and carried you over to the bed. You both fell onto the mattress, you giggling and him grinning mischievously. He lay next to you, staring at you for a second before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for another kiss.

“I’m not nervous anymore,” he boasted, grinning against your lips.

You just laughed, leaning to give him a peck on the lips. As you lay entwined with Mingyu, the winter afternoon light filtered by the curtains cast gentle shadows across the room. His fingers traced delicate patterns down the length of your arm, evoking a shiver of anticipation. His lips crashed into yours again, and this time you welcomed him with vigor; tugging at the back of his neck and grabbing a handful of his hair as he deepened the kiss.

His hand found your waist, squeezing firmly as your tongues melded together in the kiss. You pouted when he pulled away, only to let out a faint moan when his mouth moved to your neck.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he slowly tugged the sleeves off your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin. 

“Yes,” you told him, ignoring the screams of protest in your head. “It’s more than okay.”

Mingyu exhaled sharply, your permission making him more ravenous. His mouth scaled your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone and shoulder blade. You didn’t even notice that he had stripped you off of your dress until you felt his hand roaming your bare torso.

“Mingyu…” you echoed. In the intimacy of the moment, you realized just how much you had missed his touch, how his every caress seemed to awaken a yearning that you didn’t realize was very strong until now. His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, a silent promise of the passion that lay ahead.

“I’ve missed you, y/n,” he breathed, caressing your cheek. “I was so lost without you.”

You held his gaze, tenderly and lovingly as you reached for his face and leaned to kiss him. “You’ve found me, Gyu. I’m right here.”

He kissed you again, only briefly before he sat up to discard his shirt far across the room. He then hovered over you, his gaze intense as he took in the view of your nakedness before him. Dipping low, he kissed your lips, then your neck, down to your collarbone, and then your chest where your heart is. His gentle hands cupped your clothed bosoms in a firm grasp as his lips moved further down to your belly.

And amidst the whirlwind of sensations, your mind is in a mess knowing that this moment will inevitably lead to something more. You knew all too well the consequences of surrendering to this desire, the inevitable pain that would follow. You should not. You must not. This is the worst that could happen. These thoughts, equipped with detailed explanations, swirled in your head in an attempt to drag you away from the lure of desire. 

But in the heat of the moment, you stared into Mingyu’s eyes as he positioned his head between your legs, one finger stroking your moistened underwear. Right then, your rationality fell apart and you ignored its calls. Then again, when have you ever listened to reason?

A gasp escaped your lips as soon as Mingyu’s tongue did what it came to do. His every stroke sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, numbing your mind. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, moaning and calling out his name. As if he wasn’t already doing too much, Mingyu pushed a finger inside for good measure. You could feel your body twitching as the tease of release neared, and your eyes blurred with too much stimulation.

Please don’t stop, you screamed, but only in your head. Mingyu, however, stopped at that very moment, sitting up on the bed and gazing at your fucked out expression. His grin was menacing, satisfied by the view before him.

“You love that, don’t you?” he lilted, licking his lips cockily. Watching him unbuckle his belt almost made you cry as every fiber of your being begged for him to touch you again, to be one with him in body and soul.

“Mingyu…” you pleaded, not even hiding your desperation. Mingyu hurriedly hovered over you, kissing your forehead and caressing your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he said sweetly, kissing your lips and laughing when you chased after it. “I’m right here.”

Mingyu would never make you wait; he could not. He’s weak against your pleas and his fervor is about fifty times more than yours. So he gave you what you both wanted, pushing into you languidly with one movement. You whimpered due to the agonizing pleasure, back arching towards him as your body responded. His thrusts and unrestrained grunts had you spiraling, your nails embedded in his skin as you held onto him for dear life.

Worried you were being too loud, you bit your lip to stifle your moans, giving Mingyu a pleading look as you stared at each other. He smirked at you and stopped moving for a second. Without a warning, he did a sudden, hard, heavy, and deep thrust that had you yelping in bliss.

“Bite your lips again, I dare you.”

You raised an eyebrow, clueless but only momentarily. Breathless and hoarse, you asked, “Why not?”

“I want to hear you.”

Did he really think you disliked his little ‘punishment’ in any way? Feeling mischievous, you challenged him by biting your lips once more, making him ram into you roughly again. You bit back your moans so he did it again. Once more, and twice, until he finally realized that you were doing it on purpose.

Laughing darkly, Mingyu ducked to kiss you, his lips moving to your cheek and then nibbling on your ear before whispering, “You naughty naughty little lady.”

And so you surrendered yourself to him completely, losing yourself in the sweet oblivion of his touch. His hand explored every inch of your body, tracing the outlines of your curves with a gentle touch that left you breathless. Your bodies danced to the rhythm of desire and you cried each other’s names in ecstasy brought by release. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

You’ve done it, y/n, you told yourself. You’ve passed the point of no return.

You lay nestled against Mingyu, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm wrapped around you securely, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was a stark contrast to the cold that loomed beyond the windows, and you sighed contentedly, feeling utterly at peace.

Mingyu shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to cover you both more snugly. "Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, nuzzling closer to him. "Perfectly warm," you whispered.

He tightened his hold on you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You felt his hand travel up to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, soothing and calming. 

"Do you remember your first Christmas up here? We were sledding all afternoon and got caught in a snowstorm?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips at the memory.

Mingyu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. "Yeah. It snowed hard that time. We had to hide in the cabin across the estate."

You hummed. “It was so cold. And the fireplace wouldn’t work."

"We had to keep each other warm," he added, laughing softly. His eyes met yours, filled with the same warmth and affection you felt. "Best snowstorm ever."

You sighed, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy the moment. It felt so natural, so right, to be in his arms again.

As the minutes ticked by, the steady rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a state of near-sleep. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin against yours—it was all so familiar, yet achingly new. You knew this would end, that reality would creep back in, but for now, you allowed yourself to bask in the moment, to let yourself be wrapped up in him.

“I wish we could stay like this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We can, for a little while longer,” Mingyu replied, his voice equally soft. “Let's just enjoy this, okay?”

You nodded, a sense of calm washing over you. “Okay,” you agreed, snuggling closer.

But then your thoughts became too much to contain, one question repeatedly echoing in your head. “What about after this?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu inquired, opening his eyes slightly.

You pulled away from him, moving back a little so you could see his face properly. “What happens after this?”

Mingyu chuckled sleepily, pulling you back into his embrace. “Is that necessary? We’re having lots of fun. Let’s not spoil it with depressing conversations.”

His response stirred something in you—rage. A blind rage that made the veins on your forehead pulse. You exhaled sharply, pulling away again. “Why are we doing this?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

“We came here to fool my family, Gyu. Not for...” you paused, looking at the cozy state of your bed. “...this. Whatever this is!”

You kicked the sheets off your legs and stood up at once, pacing the room as you massaged your aching temples.

“Baby, come on,” Mingyu sang, following after you to pull you into his arms. You let him hug you, pressing your cheek against his chest while he ran his fingers through your hair. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what, Mingyu?” you groaned, pushing him with weakened arms while you tried your best not to sob. “Don’t do what? I don’t even know what we’re doing.”

His grip tightened around you, his voice a soothing whisper. “We’re just living in the moment, taking what we can get. Isn't that enough?”

You shook your head, tears finally spilling over. “No, it’s not. I can’t just pretend this doesn’t mean anything.”

Mingyu sighed, his own expression conflicted. “Babe—”

“Stop calling me that, please!“ you pleaded, crouching down on the floor as you felt your knees give out. You buried your face in your hands, hiding behind your hair as you sobbed. “I knew this was a bad idea. I fucking knew it!“

The room fell silent, the only sound being your sniffling. Your mind was a mess, and your heart throbbed painfully. After some time, you felt Mingyu’s hand on your back, the other on your knee.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu whispered, his voice barely audible as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m so sorry.”

You lifted your head, meeting his apologetic gaze. “You don’t love me at all, do you?”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Because you wouldn’t be apologizing if you did.”

He uttered your name, the anguish on his face making your heart ache even more. You wished you could read his mind, wished he would open up and let you in on his deepest thoughts about your relationship.

“I love you, y/n... I loved you so much.”

“Then why did we break up?”

“Because it’s what you wanted.”

“You never fought me about it!” you cried, standing up and pacing away from him. You wiped the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You just walked out the door, Mingyu! You left without so much as a fight. It was like you were waiting for it to happen!”

“That’s not true!” he protested, standing up as well, his voice rising in desperation.

“Then why didn’t you say so?“

“Because you wanted it! I was just giving you what you want.” He slumped back on the couch. “You didn’t want me anymore. I knew it, I saw it, I felt it.”

“Can you blame me?” you asked incredulously. “You were too busy, Gyu. You had no time for us!“

“I was a newbie at work. Of course, I was busy,“ he retorted, still in a low voice but you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I was swamped with work, but I made sure to come home to you. I made time for you. I tried my best not to neglect you.“

“You tried, huh? Well, if you really did, I would have noticed it but I didn’t! You were always tired. We could go on not speaking a word to each other for hours. And then out of nowhere, you’ll be in the mood to have sex,“ you scoffed, laughing derisively. “What makes you think you can ignore me all day and I would still open my legs for you when you ask for it?“

Mingyu sighed, shutting his eyes in frustration. “Oh my god, y/n. You stopped having sex with me, did you forget? Even on days when we’re getting along, you never let me touch you. You always had excuses and I respected them. Some of them are ridiculous by the way, but I respected them all the same!”

He was right, but you weren’t ready to give up yet. “Then why did you change so much? You even stopped trying to fix things whenever we fought. You just go to bed and sleep like nothing was wrong!”

“That’s because you kept picking a fight over the smallest things! I can’t keep having all these stupid arguments with you,” Mingyu groaned, gesturing wildly.

“Exactly!” you hollered, exasperated. “That’s exactly the problem. It didn’t matter how small it was before. We always, always made up before the day ended.”

“You mean me?” Mingyu smirked mockingly. “We? There was no ‘we’ when it came to fighting. You never tried to make up, y/n. It was always me. No matter whose fault it was, I was always the first to apologize because you could never lower your goddamned pride!”

“Are you saying—”

“Stop it. Please, just fucking stop!” he snarled, finally losing his patience. His aggression startled you, making you take a few steps back. Mingyu was scowling, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with pain and indignation. He looked away, muttering curses as he ran his hands through his already wild hair.

He let out a big sigh before saying, “You can’t tell me that I didn’t fight because I did! I was there; I never left. Even with the pressure of securing a regular position at work, I tried to be a good partner to you. Even during your unreasonable fits, I stayed. Even when it felt like there was no hope, I fucking stayed! Your decision to break up was the last straw, y/n! It was the last straw! I was…” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. He tightened his lips and placed his hands on his waist, sighing in frustration as he backed away, trying to calm down. When he glanced back at you, the pained look on his face was still there.

“I was tired, Y/N. I was fucking tired. You had no idea,” he confessed more gently, finally allowing himself to cry. “You had no idea.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. With tired legs, you sank onto the couch opposite the bed, quietly immersing yourself in your thoughts. You gazed out the window to avoid seeing Mingyu, but his faint sobs and deep breaths kept him in your mind.

Before coming to the chateau, you had asked yourself, "What could go wrong?" So far, nothing major has gone wrong, but this trip has unleashed the deep-seated frustrations you and Mingyu had about your relationship. Four years of unresolved issues had surfaced because neither of you was brave enough to address them. You had both been worried about offending each other, of hurting one of you unintentionally or burdening one another with personal problems. Now, you realize that you hadn’t grown apart because your love had wavered. The things you chose to ignore out of consideration, the tiny mistakes you excused—all these issues had grown into an insurmountable wall that caused you to lose touch.

It wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, and you knew that. You had never blamed anyone for the breakup. But it felt so damning to discover that things could have gone differently—that breaking up wasn’t necessary.

You glanced at Mingyu, still sitting with his face in his hands. Standing up, you wiped your cheeks and took a deep breath before walking towards him. You reached for his shoulder, squeezing it firmly to let him know you were there. You were the one who held the knife that stabbed a hole through both of your hearts. You were also the one who pulled it out when you instigated this confrontation. It was only right for you to be the one to stop yourselves from bleeding out.

“I love you,” you murmured, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear.

Mingyu wiped his face with his hand before looking up at you. “What?”

“I love you, Mingyu,” you repeated, starting to sob again. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—I… I’m so sorry.”

With a gentle tug, Mingyu pulled you into his arms, locking you in a tight hug. You sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his shirt for dear life. He comforted you with soft shushing sounds, rubbing his hand on your back, and planting a few kisses on the side of your head.

“I love you too, baby. I love you so much,” he whispered, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. “God, I love you so much.”

Still wrapped in his embrace, you heard footsteps thundering outside your door, followed by urgent, hurried knocks that made you jump.

“Guys! We gotta go!”

“Did something happen?” you called back, frantically wiping your face, hoping to hide the evidence of your tears. Mingyu, just as flustered, used his shirt to dry his own face. He even helped fix your messed-up hair with his big, panicky hands.

And then you pushed the door open, revealing a shaken Daniel who announced, “Clair’s water just broke.”

You stood outside the nursery, watching your niece behind the big glass window. There is a rush of emotions overwhelming you and it felt like your heart expanded with an intense, almost indescribable love. You gazed at the tiny, delicate features of the baby while Mingyu stood next to you, holding your hand and cooing at the sleeping child.

You can feel a sense of wonder and awe, marveling at the miracle of your niece’s arrival, Alyssa. Everyone thought she was Alfred the whole time. Turns out she was an Alyssa. Your sister said this baby is this year’s plot twist, a Christmas miracle. This was good to know because you had initially thought the plot twist that would shock your entire family was the fact that you and Mingyu were no longer dating.

“I don’t think I would ever have kids,” you told Mingyu on the drive back to the chateau.

He seemed surprised by your admission. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I don’t see motherhood as something I would be doing in the future. I think the closest I can be to being one is as an aunt. I have enough nieces and nephews anyway.”

“Motherhood seemed like a huge responsibility too,” Mingyu affirmed, smiling.

“It does. I mean, I might change my mind in the future, but right now? No, not for me,” you added, glancing at Mingyu in the driver’s seat. “What about you?”

“Well, I love kids.”

You smiled fondly. “I can see that.”

“Yeah. And I would love to have one of my own in the future. Maybe more.”

Mingyu’s smile lingered, his eyes gleaming at the thought of having his own children. You found yourself drifting into a daydream, imagining a future where the two of you ended up together, married, and living in a home filled with love and happiness. You painted a picture of a beautiful family, mirroring some of your own family values, and traditions. You would spend holidays at the chateau, celebrate your wins as a family, treat each other with respect and consideration. He’d be a loving husband, and you a supportive wife.

Children? Yes, there were children in this picture. But when you thought about yourself, you still couldn’t find the desire to have kids. Maybe you’d change your mind someday; maybe you wouldn’t. The thought of motherhood felt so distant. As much as you adored your nieces and nephews, you couldn’t see yourself stepping into a maternal role. Then again, there is no guarantee that you’d end up marrying Mingyu in the first place. This is all just wishful thinking.

You were pulled out of your daydream by the sound of Mingyu’s phone ringing. Reaching into the compartment, you carefully handed it to him.

“Can you answer it for me?” he asked, keeping his hands on the steering wheel.

The caller ID read ‘Mina,’ accompanied by a photo of the woman you’d seen him meet at a cafe. Your mind raced with questions, but you tapped the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

“Mingyu! Merry Christmas! How are you?” Her voice was bright and melodic.

“I’m well, Mina. Merry Christmas to you too,” Mingyu replied, glancing at you briefly.

“I have some good news!” she exclaimed.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Mingyu’s face. “Uh… Now’s not a good time.”

“Oh, this won’t take long. I just had to share this with you!” she persisted, followed by the sound of shuffling papers. “Welcome to XYZ Corporation!”

The sound of party poppers and Mina’s cheerful laughter filled the car. Mingyu smiled, though he still seemed a bit uneasy.

“That’s amazing. Thank you, Mina,” he said.

“You did great. They’ll email you after the holidays to confirm your employment and discuss your relocation. Just stay tuned for that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. I won’t take up too much of your time then. I’ll see you soon. Happy holidays!”

The car was quiet after that call; painfully quiet. Mingyu is not saying anything, and you’re stuck trying to process the new information you got from that phone call. Even after the car has stopped, neither of you made a move to get off.

“Babe,” Mingyu prompted, reaching for your hand that was sitting on your lap.

“What was that?” was the first thing you asked.

“It was Mina Choi. She works at XYZ.”

“No. Not her,” you insisted, shaking your head. “XYZ Corporation? That’s in Seoul, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“And you’re gonna be working there?”

Mingyu took a deep breath before responding. “Not yet. I got recruited last month so I applied and apparently, I got the job.”

“Oh,” you blurted, feeling lost so you just stared at your lap. “That’s great. XYZ is a big company. I’ve heard of them.”

He smiled contently, sighing. “Yeah, it is. I got a full contract too.”

“So you’re moving back to Korea?”

Mingyu’s silence spoke volumes. You let out a deep sigh, trying to muster a supportive smile, even though your heart felt heavy. “Congratulations, Gyu.”

“Baby—”

You pushed the car door open and walked briskly towards the chateau. You walked faster, almost running, eager to reach your bedroom as soon as possible and hide. But Mingyu was following closely behind, chasing you quietly. You passed by the halls, eyes blurring as your mind raced faster. You passed by your family members gathered at the great hall, their attentions immediately pointing at you the moment you walked in.

“Oh, you’re back! How’s Blair?” Sydney asked but you ignored her, going straight up the staircase without looking back, your heavy and urgent footsteps echoing through the entire hall.

Mingyu answered for you, his voice calm despite the tension. “Blair is doing great, Syd. They’ll be home in the morning.”

Your bedroom was quiet and cozy, and you could see the evidences of the warmth that engulfed this entire space just a few hours ago. Realizing that you’re about to lose it for the second time, your chest tightened with heartache while you ignored the stinging on your eyelids. Mingyu arrived sooner, shutting the door gently behind him.

You spun around to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Mingyu took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to ruin our weekend.”

“Ruin it? Mingyu, you’re leaving for Seoul! How is that not a big deal?” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sorrow.

“Baby, let’s calm down for a second, alright,” he replied softly, reaching to hold your shoulders.

His gentle squeezes and the comforting look in his eyes steadied your heartbeat. You let him lock you in his embrace as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I didn’t hear from them for a while so I didn’t think I’d get the job,” he confessed as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “I only found out today.”

“But we’ve only just got back together,” you moped, sobbing against his shirt.

“I know. It sucks for me too.”

You couldn’t even begin to describe how much you regret everything. Instead of breaking up, you should have just tried to fix things. You should have just talked about it. That way, you wouldn’t have lost those last few weeks with him. You would have made the most out of your time together. Now, it feels like you’re right back where you started, but worse.

Mingyu lifted your chin, the pain on his face evident upon seeing the tears streaming down your face. "I’m so sorry.”

Even if you wanted him to, Mingyu would never offer to stay. He would never pass up such a big career opportunity, and you wouldn’t have the heart to ask him to give it up. He had studied hard for years and worked tirelessly to deserve the opportunities that are coming his way. Not to mention this will be his chance to return home after being away for so long. You couldn’t take that from him; you wouldn’t be the one to hold him back.

“I’m genuinely happy for you, Mingyu. Really, I am. But this all just feels so… unfair.”

“I know,” he whispered, his own tears finally falling. “I know, and I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

As you stood there, your mind raced through all the moments you'd shared. The laughter, the intimate conversations, the quiet moments of simply being together. All of it seemed so cruelly short-lived now, overshadowed by the inevitable. Despite your newly rediscovered love, you knew you weren’t prepared to move across the world for someone you weren’t sure you’d end up marrying. The internal conflict weighed heavily on you, a mix of pride for his achievements and sadness for the distance that would soon separate you.

Your thoughts wandered to the future, a future you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine with him. A home filled with love and happiness, the possibility of children, growing old together. It all seemed like a beautiful dream that was slipping away. It’s probably for the best. The picture you tried to paint was blurry anyway, so maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Silence enveloped the room as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Finally, Mingyu spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, y/n.”

You looked up at him, your heart breaking all over again. “I love you too, Gyu.”

He took a deep breath, hesitating before gently cupping your face in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Somehow, we will.”

“I know.”

As you watched Mingyu kiss your forehead, lingering for a moment as if trying to memorize the feel of you, your mind screamed at the unfairness of it all. You wondered how many more times you’d have to say goodbye to someone you loved, and how many more pieces your heart could break into before it was beyond repair.

On Tuesday morning, you drove out of the chateau after saying goodbye to your family. In the end, you never got to fulfill the deal you made with Mingyu which was to tell everyone the truth before you head back to the city. You felt that it would be unnecessary; you got back together after all.

The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, occasional glances, and small smiles. You slept most of the ride like you always did. Then you spent the next few days with Mingyu, doing everything and anything together. You went on dates to your favorite spots—the little café where you had your first date, the park where you spent lazy afternoons, and all the places you loved to go to that he wouldn’t be able to see for a long time. Each outing was a surge of nostalgia and making new memories.

He also moved out of his apartment early to spend his last week with you, so not only did you see him every day, but you were with him every second of the day. Two days before his departure, you headed up to the chateau so he could say goodbye to everyone properly. Then you held a small party with your closest friends to celebrate a milestone in Mingyu’s career and wish him good luck.

It was needless to say neither of you held yourselves back, especially when it came to your desires. You lost more than a month together, and it would stretch back far longer if one were to consider the time when your relationship was rocky. You had a lot of conversations with Mingyu, opening up to each other more than you’ve ever done in the last four years together. He told you about his aspirations, and you told him about your plans from here on out.

“I really wish we could have more time,” he told you while you lay in your bed, warm and cozy under the sheets. Your bodies were flushed against each other, and you could tell you still smelled like him.

“Me too,” you confessed, nuzzling on his chest like you’re not already glued to him. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Mingyu sighed heavily. “That’s okay. If it’s ours, it will find its way back to us.”

You chuckled, propping yourself so you could frown at him. “That’s just another way of saying: if it’s meant to be, it will be.”

“I know,” he grinned and then kissed the tip of your nose.

“You’re silly.”

You spent the past days laughing and making each other happy. Neither of you has shown any sadness or shed a tear for the inevitable, although that did not mean it wasn’t sad. It was painful, but it was a familiar kind of pain, one you had been bracing yourself for since the moment he received that phone call from Mina. Yet, no amount of preparation could fully shield you from the reality of that moment.

There was a raw, undeniable hurt in knowing that someone you loved so deeply was leaving. The countless memories you had built together played like a silent movie in your mind—each scene was a reminder of what you were about to lose. Your laughter, the quiet moments of comfort, the shared dreams, and even the setbacks that made you stronger—all of it now leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

“You know, this is the warmest bed I’ve ever known,” you confessed, laying back down.

“Like, literally or?”

You giggled, closing your eyes as you melted into his warmth. “You made it warm.”

“Well, you did give me a bed to lie on. I did my best to make it warm.”

You opened your eyes and scowled, confused. “Like, literally?”

“No,” he laughed, his chest vibrating. And the night stretched on with more of your laughter and conversations.

The morning of Mingyu’s departure arrived too quickly. You both sat in the living room, your head on his chest while he hugged you tightly. Neither of you was speaking, just quietly passing the time in each other’s arms. His suitcase was by the door, and every tick of the clock seemed louder than usual.

“Are you ready to go?” Mingyu asked gently, his eyes searching yours.

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I said I’m not going.”

“I know. I was just trying to see if you changed your mind,” he chimed, his thumb rubbing your shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and tightened your arms around his torso. “I don’t like it. It’s too sad.”

He hummed in understanding. “I get it. It’s hard for me too.” He stood up and hugged you tightly, his warmth enveloping you. “I’ll call you as soon as I land, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling the tears welling up. “Okay.”

Mingyu kissed the top of your head, holding you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You too,” you replied, watching as he picked up his suitcase and walked out the door. The sound of the door closing felt like a heartbreaking note.

For a few minutes, you stood there in the deafening silence, your heart aching with the weight of the goodbye. The thought of not seeing him off began to gnaw at you, each moment passing making you feel worse. You knew that if you didn’t go, you would regret it forever.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed your phone and ran out the door, not bothering to lock it behind you.

“Taxi!” you yelled at the first taxi you saw on the street, your hand flapping wildly in the air as you beckoned for it. “Airport. And please be quick!”

The traffic was mercifully light, but every red light felt like an eternity. You tapped your fingers nervously on your knee, willing the lights to change faster.

“Late for a flight?” the taxi driver asked but you were too immersed in your thoughts to hear it clearly.

“Sorry?” you asked stupidly.

“No luggage,” he noted. “Chasing a lover, I see.”

You chuckled nervously, eyes darting from the driver to the red light flashing up ahead. “Does it happen a lot?”

“No, not really. It’s rarer than you would expect,” the man replied spiritedly. “And it’s beautiful each time you see one.”

He didn’t chat much, and it was like he could also feel the urgency of your situation because as soon as he could, he sped through the highways and assured you that everything would be alright. When you finally reached the airport, you hastily paid your fare and ran towards the terminal, your heart pounding in your chest.

You scanned the crowds frantically, hoping you weren’t too late. Then, you spotted him at the security checkpoint, just about to hand over his boarding pass.

"Kim Mingyu!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the bustling terminal.

He turned around, eyes wide with surprise. You pushed through the crowd, running up to him while waving your hand. Mingyu left the queue immediately, meeting you halfway. When you reached him, you were breathless, both from the run and the emotions. He didn’t waste any time and pulled you into a tight embrace.

When you parted, you laughed shyly, not looking him in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“Wow, I almost didn’t catch you,” you told him, looking at the queue of people boarding the gate.

Mingyu’s expression was soft and loving as he tucked a few strands of your hair to the back of your ear. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah. I’m so glad I did,” you chuckled, moving closer to hug him again. You stared at his face, trying to memorize it before he leaves and your vision of him becomes limited to a phone’s screen only.

“I thought you don’t like it?” he asked, arms wrapped around your waist and enjoying the way you were staring at him with loving eyes.

“I don’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Just tell me you’re gonna miss me and be done with it.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Mingyu.”

Mingyu laughed heartily, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “See. How hard was that?”

“Not hard at all because it’s true,” you shrugged.

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I’m gonna miss you too, baby. A lot.”

“You better,” you said nonchalantly, masking the yearning in your heart. “I love you, okay?”

He nodded. “I love you.”

The announcement for his flight boarding echoed through the terminal, and Mingyu sighed, knowing it was time to go. He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and emotion into that one kiss. Then he pulled you into a tight embrace again, neither of you wanting to let go. 

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured into your hair.

“You too,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it. When Mingyu saw that, you recognized the slight flicker of hesitation on his face. “Go, before I change my mind and chain you to my bedpost.”

“See you soon, y/n.”

“See you soon, Mingyu.”

With one last kiss, he turned and walked towards the gate, pausing to look back at you one more time. You watched as he disappeared from sight, a mix of sadness and hope filling your heart. You took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the terminal fill your lungs. As you exhaled, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You can’t control the future, but you can choose how to face it.

Acceptance was not about letting go of the pain but about understanding that it was part of the journey. You allowed yourself to feel every emotion, knowing that it was okay to hurt, okay to miss him, and okay to hope for a future where your paths would cross again.

Days passed in the blink of an eye. You got busy working on the establishment of your interior design office. You haven’t even officially established your office yet but inquiries are already pouring in thanks to your work on Daphne’s boutique. Sure, you had help from your trust fund and your first investor was your father, but why would you shy away from the privilege you were born with when you can flourish with it?

“Ma'am, where do you want this couch to be?” asked the helpers as they hauled a long couch into the office space.

“Over there by that corner, please. And the rest of it will be placed there too,” you instructed just as you were fishing your phone from your bag.

You opened the message from Mingyu and saw that he had sent you a picture. It was of him and an abstract painting hanging on the wall of his Seoul apartment– the one you sent him a few days ago.

MG: Rate my interior design capability. you: 7/10. Nice spot but it’s upside down, Mr Kim. MG: LOL okay will fix it when i get back. i'm at work now. i miss you! xx

A smile crept up your lips as you typed a reply.

you: Miss you! Good luck!

Not everyone has to end up with the greatest love of their life. But you do wish you would end up with yours— that somehow, despite the massive population of the earth, Mingyu is your greatest love; your end game. Maybe he is, or perhaps he’s not. Who knows? Right now, you're both content living your days, doing what makes you happy. You no longer ache for him too much, although you miss him a lot every day. You were pretty convinced that you missed it only because you were used to it. Then again, who knows for sure?

As you set your phone down, you felt hopeful and optimistic. Your story with Mingyu wasn’t over; it was simply evolving. And in that evolution, you found strength, hope, and a future full of possibilities.

[fin]

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue

[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.

wc: 3.2k

Epilogue

September 1985

I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”

September 1987

Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.

So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.

You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).

You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.

So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.

You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.

After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.

You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.

And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.

You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.

You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.

Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead. 

Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.

You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.

Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.

Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.

Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.

As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.

Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.

When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”

Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.

“I should’ve called--”

“No shit.”

Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.

Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.

Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.

“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”

“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.

You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.

“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”

You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.

“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”

You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”

The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”

Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.

“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.

You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.

“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?

As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.

“That’s the surprise.”

Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”

Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”

Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.

It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.

When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.

“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.

Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”

You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.

Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.

Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.

You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”

The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”

You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.

.

.

addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie

@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback

@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082

@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne

@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

[bombuni]

contains: established relationship, threesome (woosan x fem!reader), collaring, mild humiliation, consequences of a bratty reader

minors dni

San tightens the black leather collar on your neck, his big hands warm on your skin. He inserts two fingers just to make sure it’s not too tight before his hands turn commanding, squishing your cheeks until your lips pout. You hear the heart charm jingle, reminding you of the ‘S+W’ engravement that only solidifies your belonging to them. Wooyoung chuckles at the sight of your teary eyes as he stands behind San, his proud cocky smirk taunting you. You hate him now, because he can be just as bratty as you, but you still crave his approval. You still crave the sweet feeling of his praising hands on you.

You sniffle and open your mouth to apologize but San interrupts, “No talking.”

You were really bad. Bad enough to get San pissed off. Usually he’s the patient one of the two, but when the moment calls, his built up anger comes in a harsh punishment and Wooyoung following his every order.

It’s not like you had meant to bother them all day. You know they’re busy, they’ve been busy every day for the past two weeks. It’s a truly empty feeling in your gut when you’re used to at least one of them doting on you 24/7. It’s not your fault you decided to take matters into your own hands.

You want to laugh at how cocky you’d been just a couple of hours ago. Really, what a joke. You should’ve remembered who you belong to and who makes the rules. But, in the end you got what you wanted; their undivided attention.

You’re in between San’s knees, his heavy cock in his boxers sitting right in front of you just waiting to be touched. However, you resist the temptation. He hasn’t given you permission. Wooyoung leans over the back of the couch, arms wrapped around what you’re not allowed to touch right now. He knows it makes you cry, makes you feel small and vulnerable when you’re the only fully nude one with two hungry, vicious wolves watching you. But he knows you like it too.

“Come on, Sannie,” Wooyoung’s head tilts like he’s deciding what to do with his toy, “Poor thing just wanted attention,”

It’s odd to hear Wooyoung defending you for once, as he’s usually all for your punishments.

His lips move to San’s ear, his eyes still trained on you, “Look at how wet she is.”

San hums, dark eyes studying you as millions of ideas rush through his head, “But she knows this isn’t how she gets it. Don’t you, little dove?”

You don’t open your mouth, fearing you’ll accidentally misbehave, but San looks at you expectantly, “I-I’m sorry, Sannie…”

He pulls you closer by your collar gently but with enough force to remind you he’s capable of much more, “Are you?” You nod haphazardly, Wooyoung laughing at your frantic movements.

Wooyoung leaps over the couch to sit next to San, legs opening up to invite you in. You look at San, who nods, and you pull your plush body in between Wooyoung’s legs. He’s giving you a kinder look than San, but he’s never merciful. You know Wooyoung, and so does San.

He begins to untie his sweatpants, “I think you just need a little sorting out. You’re used to being a spoiled brat.”

You want to protest, remind them that you’ve put up with two weeks of minimal kisses and touching, but San’s intimidating eyes shut you up. Wooyoung’s lap sits in front of you like a vice tailored just for you. Inviting and alluring, but ultimately you know you’re in for a long night of forgiveness.

His hand on the back of your head leads you, “Go on. Suck it, brat.”

bom note: pls enjoy this thing in my drafts while i work on reqs :) i heart mean woosan so big

[mediumgayitalian]

Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.

He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.

“Hi,” he says, grinning.

“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.

“Errand done?”

“Yep.”

“Lord Hades pleased?”

“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”

“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.

“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”

“…I do not shed.”

Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”

“Are they.”

Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.

“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”

“You’re very picky.”

Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”

He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.

“Is that so.”

“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”

“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”

The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.

“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”

Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.

“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”

There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.

Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.

“Open it.”

“What is it?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”

“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”

“So?”

“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”

“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”

“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.

He gasps.

“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”

Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.

“You like?”

“It’s gorgeous!”

He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.

“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?

“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”

“Possessive, much.”

“You’re literally going red.”

“Shut up.”

And he does, but only because Will makes him.

Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: a lot of yapping. Male masturbation. A bit of violence from Katsuki’s part when a guy tries getting in your pants.

Word count: this part is 2.4k, added to the others (part 1, part 2, part 3) it’s 8.9k.

Next part: part 5

"It's too hot" you mewl while lying on your couch. “Step back, it’s my turn to be in front of the fan” you add, getting up and walking towards Katsuki.

“Fuck no, it’s been 3 minutes since you had a go at it. Go back to the hell hole you came from, pest” your roommate answers while throwing daggers at you.

You poke your finger in his exposed bicep. He doesn’t budge. Damn, this man is hard as a rock.

“Come onnnnn! This is the time when you should be a gentleman and let me cool down my beautiful face. Do you really want to be such a brute, Mr. Bakugou?” you bat your eyelashes seductively, trying to convince him.

Bakugou stares at you like your face is green and you’re a slimy frog that just came out of a pile of mud.

“I don’t fucking care. You’re a big girl and I ain’t no prince charming. Step the fuck back or I’m throwing you on that damn sofa. Wait your shitty turn” he says, flicking your forehead.

You whine some more, whisper “bitch” (it gets you another flick) and then turn back to lay on the floor. It’s colder than the couch, at least.

It’s summer, there’s 41°C outside, and your AC broke the other day. It’s so hot that you take out the ice from the freezer and it melts in 4 minutes (max). You happened to have one old crusty fan, that you and Bakugou take turns using. You have been surviving on iced coffee and iced lemonades. You feel like you’re slowly dying.

“You know, this is the only time I really wish my boss would call me in early. He might be a ghost, but he sure uses money for the AC” you blabber while staring at the ceiling, contemplating booking a trip to Alaska.

“What do you mean a ghost?” the blond asks. He’s been much more talkative in the last few months, maybe because seeing you being so domestic was doing something to him. In the last few days he really wants to be your friend, but not because he’s suddenly nice: he thinks he could bribe you to gift him the fan if he’s kinder and breaks your defenses. He’s even planning on asking you to go to a cafe nearby and offer you one of those sweet fuzzy iced drinks you like so much. He’s scheming.

“A ghost because I’ve never seen his face. Can you believe that? My colleague says he’s an asshole though, so maybe that’s for the better” you answer. You get on your elbows to see him better, then squint and frown, “I feel like you could be my boss, you know. Seeing as you’re an asshole too, making me die here on the floor like a common drug addict”.

Yeah, screw the fan. He was asking you out to kill you.

“I hope he fires you”.

“Fuck you”.

“Likewise”.

You throw yourself back on the floor. The movement makes your boobs giggle, and he catches himself staring at your white tank top. You didn’t wear a bra since it’s indeed still your house and it’s indeed still hot as hell.

Things have been going so much better between you two. You now bicker like you’re siblings, but you do also take walks together sometimes, mainly to get groceries, and talk about stuff. You even convinced him to watch Keeping up with the Kardashians with you, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he likes the drama more than you.

At work you have a new manager and she’s super nice. Her name is Mina, and you found out that she and Kirishima are engaged, even if they’re 22 like you. She’s a great worker, and you’ve gone out for drinks a couple of times with her and Momo. She’s been at the cafe for 2 months, but you feel so much better already. She throws you weird looks sometimes, like she knows something you don’t, but you pay it no mind.

The timer on your phone rings, and you jump up before throwing your whole body on Katsuki’s. He’s distracted and you get him off guard, managing to move him away. He notices your tits touching his arm.

“Hah! My turn!” you say triumphantly, positioning yourself in front of the fan. The cold air makes your nipples harden. He seems to not be able to look away.

“Awh, Katsuki, cat got your tongue? Don’t worry, baby, the floor is not that bad” you snicker.

He snaps out of his trance and looks at your smirk. Baby? Did you just call him baby?

Fuck, what is he doing? The heat is getting to him. He hastily turns around and starts walking.

“Fuck off, I’m getting in the shower. You can have your fucking fan until I get out” he grunts while almost running away. He needs to have a cold shower.

“We’ll see!” you smile devilishly at him, not having noticed how he’s furiously blushing while slamming the bathroom door.

Katsuki puts his back on the door and slides to the floor. He rubs his face before staring at the obvious tent his semi is causing in his shorts.

Have you always been so hot?

He gets out of his clothes and jumps in the shower, hoping this feeling will go away once the scorching temperature of his skin gets back to normal. But after a few minutes the icy water does nothing to quell his desire, his fully standing cock a statement to that.

He curses under his breath, then wraps one of his hands on his shaft. He feels so dirty doing this, and the fact you’re one door away makes him feel even more embarrassed.

“Let’s get this fucking over with, fuck” he says to himself, pumping his member slowly.

He imagines the way your hand would feel instead of his, or your big eyes staring up at him like you did before, just that in this case you were forcing yourself not to cry while choking on his cock. His hand would be in your hair instead of on his dick, pushing your mouth snugly against his pubes. Your mouth would be hotter than the sun outside and he'd give you a reason to sweat. If you pleaded hard enough he'd fuck you too. He’d really throw you on the sofa, ripping your damn white top and sucking on your nipples. Fuck, what if you pierced them? Your tits would look so good covered in his-

He cums, grunting. "Fuck, this is the most embarrassing shit I've ever had to do to cum" he adds, whispering to himself.

He makes sure to scrub the shower wall clean before putting on the pair of grey short sweatpants he was wearing before. He decides on not to put his black compression tee on, since it’s drenched in sweat.

He exits the bathroom and finds you lying on the couch with the fan blowing directly on your face. Your eyes are closed, and the peaceful expression you're wearing makes his dick throb again.

"Oi, wanna go out? We're short on ice" he finds himself saying.

You open one eye, but when you realize he's half naked you hastily close it and throw him the pillow you were resting your head on.

"When has this become a whore house?" you scream.

He rolls his eyes. "You're such a prude. It's not like you've never seen a man naked" he scoffs, while throwing the pillow back at you.

You open your eyes again and glare at him. You know you must be as red as a tomato.

He looks so good with his hair still dripping wet. You've known that he works out, but now that you see his torso this close and with so little covering his whole body, you find yourself feeling shy. There's a particular drop of water that cascades just in the middle of his pecs, and you follow it with your eyes until it reaches his belly button.

"Earth to y/n. I know I'm hot, but stop ogling and answer my fucking question" your roommate says smirking, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You throw the same pillow you threw before right on his smiling face. "I'm coming if you're not gonna be naked!" you say, hastily going towards your room.

"But wouldn't you like it, baby?" he mocks the tone you've used with him just 30 minutes ago.

"Fuck you. I'll be there in 10" you respond, slamming your bedroom door, feeling hot and bothered.

It must be the summer.

You and Katsuki go to a store nearby to get ice.

“When is the landlord gonna repair the AC?” you ask, since he was the one to make the call.

“He said he’ll come next week, probably even the next one. Said he’s on vacay or some shit” he grunts from next to you.

“I can’t survive 2 weeks like this” you whine. “Oh, you know those noodles you did the other day? The spicy ones? Want to make them for dinner today?” you change the topic, looking up at him.

He spares you a glance before smirking and saying “you just said you’re dying, you sure you wanna eat spicy things?”.

“It doesn’t matter, that’s not the question” you say, pouting.

He smirks again. “Sure. Go and take the noodles, I’ll get the vegetables. Call me when you’re finished if you can’t come back here, I know you get lost like a dumbass”.

You slap his arm. “I do not! This place is just big, asshole”. Then you turn around and march straight towards… the wrong aisle. Katsuki shakes his head. You’ll find a way. You always do, somehow.

After 10 minutes you’re still not back and you still haven’t called, so he sighs and gets his phone out.

He missed your texts from 3 minutes ago.

Y/N: Help

Y/N: I feel like a guy is following me

Y/N: I’m next to some spicy sauces, I guess

Y/N: Mom come pick me up, I’m scared

He raises an eyebrow. You’re usually too prideful to text him when you don’t find the ingredients he tells you to search for, so this situation is weird. He tries to remember where the spicy sauces are, and goes for that aisle.

Meanwhile, you were right and a creepy guy was indeed following you. He’s slim, not that tall and looks like a predator. For the past couple of minutes he’s obviously been trying to get in your pants, and you don’t know how to remove yourself from the situation.

“Come on, just give me your number. You got a boyfriend? Is this why you’re being so… spicy?” he says with a low tone of voice, walking towards you and effectively blocking you from the eyes of the people who are walking down your aisle. From outside, he just seems like he’s talking to you.

“I said I’m not interested” you repeat for what feels like the 10th time. Then you decide to lie: “and yes, I do have a boyfriend. He gets crazy when he’s jealous, I wouldn’t want to anger him if I were you”. You hope you sound confident enough.

“Awh he doesn’t have to now, baby girl. It can be our dirty little secret… I love spicy little things like you” he says seductively, touching your arm and licking his lips.

You’re just about to raise your elbow high enough to break his nose when you feel a familiar voice behind you.

“Step the fuck back before I break your fucking hand” Katsuki says to the man in front of you.

You snap your gaze to his eyes, but he’s looking at the guy with a murderous intent.

The slimy guy in front of you doesn’t let go, in fact he just strengthens the hold he has on your arm and you wince. Katsuki notices this.

The guy is definitely intimidated, but still manages to say “mind your business bro, we’re together, this is my bitch-“. But before he can finish the sentence he finds himself crashing on the sauces of the aisle.

“I said step the fuck back. I don’t like to repeat myself. Don’t ever call my girlfriend your bitch again, or next time I’m breaking your damn nose“ your roommate says while putting a hand on your small back.

He then looks down at you, and while he’s looking deep into your eyes, tells you “you good, baby?”.

You nod. You feel your knees shaking, but not because of the guy who’s currently on the floor.

Which, by the way, is now scoffing and declaring “oh so this is your crazy boyfriend? Nobody likes good guys anymore, huh”. He then stands up, adding “you were never pretty enough for me, anyway”.

Katsuki looks at him and suddenly he laughs. “You’re a pathetic ass bitch if you really believe someone like you could ever be near someone like her. You’re not a good guy, you’re an awful piece of shit who only tries to get his dick wet by forcing girls to have sex with him, and you’re obviously failing at that too. Go back to your room and rub one out on some shitty porn like you always do, fucker” he spits out. “You have 5 seconds to get out of my fucking face”.

The asshole thinks he’s joking, so he doesn’t move from his spot, but Katsuki is obviously not playing. He looks super scary, and he’s towering over the pathetic boy.

Katsuki is losing his patience. “5, 4, 3…”.

The guy gets that he’s serious and flees the scene, running with his tail between his legs.

Your roommate takes a big breath before mumbling “I hate people”. You snicker, before looking up at him. “Thank you, you know” you say smiling.

Your gratefulness blinds him, or maybe it’s just that you’re that pretty.

“You’re welcome”.

He doesn’t remove his hand from your back for the rest of your walk, and it feels so natural to be so close to him that you don’t say anything.

A/N: If you want to be put in the taglist make sure your age is visible on your blog first, and then tell me so in the comments <3

[trendywaifus]

Can I request Zhu yuan and Jane doe (separately) confessing their feelings to gn reader

hmmmm. i think i seen you around somewhere with this request but okay! | cw: non. gn! reader

↳ from the start

“ so, are you not going to ask them out for dinner before this shift ends, ZHU YUAN? “ qingyi queries, sipping from her hot cup of tea. the aforementioned woman fiddles with the vase of roses in her hands, leaning on the edge of the table with a nervous expression on her face. “ i-i will. i-it’s just. .will they reject me? o-or is it even the right time to ask—“

qingyi sighs, shaking her head. “ clear your mind. it isn’t good to overthink. perhaps it’s best to ask them now so you won’t have to worry about it later. besides, it’s a very low chance they’ll reject you because of how they act around you. “

zhu yuan gives her senior officer a puzzled look. “ b-because of how they act? what do you mean? “

the android finishes her cup of tea. “ you can’t see it? they act considerably kinder to you than others. they smile more when they talk to you, the way they look at you with such warmth is admittedly adorable. “ zhu yuan’s cheeks turn a darker red as she thinks about the times you and her interact with each other during break periods and patrol hours. honestly, she thought you were naturally like that to everyone; a caring and kind person. your words—your voice leave her heart a beating mess. the way you’d check up on her during and after busy days with a gentle smile on your face inspires her to do better; to be better. gosh, she always thought your smiles were breathtaking, the way your eyes would crinkle and sparkle as your lips spread never fails to make her knees weak.

unbeknownst to zhu yuan, qingyi had already left the break room while she was in deep thought and you walked in through the door. “ oh captain zhu yuan! you’re still here? “

she jumps upon hearing your voice, snapping out of her trance. “ y-yes, i was just waiting for you. “ zhu yuan stutters, facing you as you walk over to her with that patient smile of yours. you glance down at the vase full of red and white roses in her hands and back up at her.

“ oh? did someone give those to you? how—“

“ a-actually, these are for you! “ zhu yuan shyly hands you the vase, cheeks flushed red. you blink several times at the roses held in front of you before taking them. “ captain zhu yuan, th-thank you. but what’s the occasion? “

zhu yuan shifts her weight on the other foot as she nervously fiddles around. she takes a deep breath, clasps her hands around her back.

“ i-i like you—a-a lot actually. i-i really admire how wonderful you are as a person. pl-please, grant me permission t-to t-take you out to dinner tomorrow at 8:00pm! “ she stammers, the tips of her ears red and eyes squeezed shut. if you do reject her, she doesn’t want to see your face or she might burst out from anxiety.

“ i would love to go out to dinner with you captain zhu yuan. i’m interested in you myself, haha! “ you laughed shyly, rubbing the back of your neck. those ruby eyes of hers snaps open and an adorable, surprised expression sinks into her face.

“ r-really? “

“ yeah, captain. you’re wonderful yourself, and gorgeous too. “

a embarrassed noise leaves zhu yuan’s throat. her flustered gaze flickers to somewhere else before back at you. she clears her throat with a happy smile on her face. “ th-thank you, but please—it’s just zhu yuan. i don’t want any formalities between us. “

you reciprocate her smile with a bright one, causing her heart to skip several beats. “ you got it, zuzu. make sure to tell me more about where you’re thinking about taking us. “

“ z-zuzu? “

“ what, you don’t like the nickname? “

“ i d-do! it’s just— i have never been called that before. b-but it’s fitting coming from you. “

you let out a soft laugh, reaching your hand out to affectionately poke her nose. “ that’s good to hear. well, i’ll see you later zuzu. text me tonight, yeah? “

she shyly waves as you walk out of the break room with the gifted vase of roses. “ i-i will! a-also, adding sugar water to the roses will make them last longer and fresher! pl-please return home safe, a-and look both ways before crossing the street! “

“ i drive, but thanks! “

of courseee.

zhu yuan mentally facepalms herself but is nonetheless happy with the outcome of her confession. her phone rings in her pocket and she’s quick to answer it.

“ hi mom, i’m coming home now! do you need anything from the store? “ she asks, her voice an octave higher than usual.

“ i-i sound happy? y-yeah, it went well, mom. .” zhu yuan mutters, smiling stupidly to herself as she ambles out of the break room and her way out of the building.

“ m-meet them? n-not yet! it’s way too soon and i’m just taking them out for dinner tomorrow night too. .”

JANE DOE walks down sixth street, her fingers loosely hooked around her hanging straps. the chilly wispy night air kisses her sensitive ears, provoking occasional twitches from them. although she’s only walking through sixth street to get back home, her ears perk up at a familiar voice in the distance.

“ mr. chop, let me order a bowl of green pepper chicken noodles—the regular! i need something to warm me up since the fall air is kicking in! “

she subconsciously smile softly at the sound of your voice. her sharp teal eyes skim over to the waterfall soup shop not too far ahead of her. jane can make out your figure sitting on one of the chairs. her gaze softens; she’s very lucky to catch you around here this time of night. the way you talk to the owner makes it seem like you’re a regular around here. interesting note to pin in the back of her mind. jane saunters over to the shop, your figure becomes clearer and clearer as she approaches.

“ i didn’t think i’d get to see you around this neighborhood, (name). “ jane speaks up as she slides onto a empty chair beside you.

“ oh, jane! “ you offer her a sweet smile she oh so adores. “ i didn’t think i’d get to see you here either! how did everything go with the informant? “

the rat thiren sighs, running a thumb over her red nails as she examined them briefly. “ it went alright. i’m suppose to meet back with them tomorrow for more information about the case. what a hassle. “

you laugh bubbly, “ that certainly is a hassle having to meet with them twice. since you’re here, you have time to eat noodles with me, right? “

her gaze softens even more at the hopeful tone in your voice and the tender look marinating in those brilliant (e/c) eyes of yours. how could she refuse you? you’re just what she needed after a tedious day of running around prepping for an upcoming operation.

“ of course. i was on my way back to my home, and i was just about hungry anyways. “

you nodded, “ so what do you want to order, janey? “

her tail swish with delight from the cute nickname you’ve given her. it’s a shame that she hasn’t given you her real name yet but that’ll change soon in the future. you’re aware that jane has a secret identity, but you don’t seem to care at all and treat her as if she’s a close friend. your guard is always down around her—your body language is relaxed, there’s no skeptical look in your eyes, none of that at all. you’re so genuine with her that she can’t help but fall for you. you’re her first real friend she’s had in years but she grew to wanting something more than that with you. she knows what she likes so there’s no point in denying her feelings for you, right?

jane hums thoughtfully, “ hm, that’s a good question. what do you recommend? “

“ vegetable noodles for you. i’m sure you’ll love it. “

she chuckles, “ oh, really? i’ll take that then. “

you ordered it for her and a soft comforting silence settles in between you and jane as you wait for the food. jane’s observant gaze wanders off to you every now and then, admiring the softness of your face, the way the light perfectly bounces off your skin—do you know that you look memorizing like this right now? she feels like a little lovesick high school girl around her crush. how embarrassing.

“ sorry to break the silence, but, can i ask you a question, (name)? “

“ mhm? “

“ do you trust me as a person? “

you look at your colleague like she has two heads. “ huh, what’s that about? “

“ because you don’t really know much about me or my actual identity, yet you act like we’ve knew each other longer than we actually have. for all you know, i could just be a weirdo waiting for the perfect strike to tear you down. “ as if she would ever hurt you. no matter what disguise she’s in, she wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you.

you still have that weird, adorable look on your face. “ oh please jane, don’t call yourself a weirdo. but you’re right, i don’t know much about you. however, you have your reasons for keeping your identity secret which is understandable, you’re a criminology specialist. if i was that, i would want to keep my identity secret too to avoid any mishaps with going undercover— thank you, “ you give mr. chop quick smile as he places the ordered bowls down in front of you and jane.

“ anyways, just because you have excellent skills of messing with people and deceiving them for the sake of your job doesn’t translate to how you actually are as a person. i seen how you care and worry for other people in your own little ways. seth told me about all the odd things you did throughout his time being a hostage and how it all added up once he realized you were one of us. when i saw you during that ambush and found out that the mountain lions took him and the hostages. i wasn’t really worried because you were there. I’m starting to ramble so to cut things short, no matter what type of person you are, i’ll always put my trust in you. you’re a good person and i find your presence welcoming. “ you smiled warmly at her before starting on your bowl of noodles.

jane’s utterly taken back by your answer. butterflies flutter around in her stomach like the first week of spring. she expected you to answer kindly to her question but not sentimental like that. her tail sways a little faster than usual and her pupils would resemble heart shapes right now if such a thing was possible. cheeks unusually red, she quietly focuses her attention on eating her noodles. just as you figured earlier, the noodles tastes appetizing.it’s smooth and well done. the chicken broth isn’t really salty and has a rich taste to it. the liquid is warm and easy as it goes down her throat, heating up her cool body temperature. the veggies were nice and crisp. her sore bones softens, the weight of today’s labor eases off of her.

“ this is really what i needed, right janey? “ you giggled, looking over at the woman beside you who’s a little too quiet while she eats.

“ mhm, thank you for recommending this to me. “

after you and jane finished your noodles, you paid for the meals and stood outside of the shop. “ wow, i feel full and tired. i’m definitely going to be sleeping good tonight. thank you for eating with me, i really appreciate it. “ you shove your hands in your pockets, smiling tenderly at her. the love-stricken woman nods her head, tenderness evident on her face as she looks at you. “ no need to thank me, i would of stayed whether you asked me or not. but before we part ways for the night, let me tell you what i’ve been meaning to get off my chest. i may not act like it but, i’m not really good with telling others how i feel so i’ll try to convey them as simple as i can. “ she says awkwardly, her hooked fingers playing around with her hanging straps.

her teal eyes glimmer with devotion as she takes a step closer to you, unhooking one of her fingers to place a delicate hand on your shoulder. “ although we started off as simple colleagues, our connection grew stronger the more i learned about you. the way you don’t hide your emotions is admirable, your eyes doesn’t hold an ounce of darkness behind them; they’re clear as a sunny day and i can’t help but feel drawn to them. .i feel at ease and warm. your presence is the same way. you’re so honest, thoughtful—your genuine nature pulled me in like a magnet. i love you and i wish for us to grow even closer. i promise i’ll tell you everything that you want to know about me if you’ll have me, of course. “ like that, jane leans in and softly kissed the corner of your parted lips.

she retracts away, peering at you patiently as you thoroughly process her confession. your face increasingly turns red every second until you resemble a bright red apple. once jane sees the awe in your eyes and the jubilant smile dancing across your pretty lips, she’s the happiest she’s ever been in a while. you wrap your arms around her and pull her tall frame against yours.

“ of course, i’ll have you. i love you too after all. “ you mutter softly, burying your face into her grey bomber jacket. she laughs breathily, circling her arms around your body, and perched her chin on your shoulder. her ears jiggles in response to your pleasant confession. her long tail curls around your leg as you continue to hug each other under the soft glows of sixth street.

a noisy bangboo in the distance: “ ehaa nu tha! ( i wish i had something like that in my life! )“

[thevelvetvampyre]

Late Night Ride - Neil Lewis x Reader / Brothers Best Friend

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader / Brothers Best Friend

Summary: after a long day at the beach, you sit on Neil’s lap in the car ride home and takes advantage of your position

Warnings: Loss of virginity, age gap (unspecified), slightly noncon, pervert Neil (yummy), smut with little plot, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected

—————————————

“So who’s coming today?” You asked your brother in the front seat as the pair of you drove to the beach. The clock read 2pm and the sun was blazing down though the window screens onto your skin, already causing you to build up a sweat.

“You know. The guys from work” Your brother said not giving you any notice, barely even huffing out his response.

“Yeah- really helpful Jon” You said glaring into him.

Before huffing another sigh he responded “Lucien, Neil”. His eyes stayed focus on the road as you remained unsatisfied with his answer, slightly turning up the radio.

“Just those two? I thought more people were coming” You were slightly disappointed, but excited nonetheless because you could spend more personalised time with Neil.

Ever since you turned 18 his eyes were progressively undressing you as time went on. Of course, you had a little crush on him ever since he first came round when he was in high school to watch some obscure French flick with your brother but you were so young, barely even a teenager. He was always kinder to you than he was with most people, not that he was a mean person but he’d always seem so arrogant. You were the only one he treated as if he didn’t have a stick up his ass, treated you as his own sister. But now, starting specifically on your 18th birthday party once you had too much to drink and spoke your mouth off to him, he couldn’t help but feel some kind of sexual pull towards you. You purposely started to wear shorter skirts and lower shirts when he came around, pleased at his reaction as he stared at your skin and gulped his Adam apple down before turning red and shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It was exciting, he wasn’t too much older but he was your brothers best friend and you knew both of you would be found dead if your brother found out how you felt towards him. More importantly, how he felt towards you. It didn’t help that he started watching “best friend’s sister” and “girl next door” porn. God, he felt filthy in his skin after shooting white ropes into tissues wishing it was the inside of your pussy. He had known you since before you even knew was sex was, so seeing you grow up and find your body was exhilarating for him. He knew you were a virgin as well, knowing you had only kissed a couple of guys at parties after a few drinks. He knew how innocent and inexperienced you were. Unfortunately, this only happened to turn him on more to a point where it was torturous, filling his mind with fantasies of ruining your innocence as he fisted his cock for the second time that evening imagining your pretty mouth around it.

“Yeah well, I’m thinking Neil might invite a couple girls once we get there” your chest dropped at your brothers comment.

“Oh…” your eyes trailed out the window.

“Don’t worry though, I’m sure they’ll be nice” Your brother shot you a sincere smile and leant over to rub your thigh.

The rest of the drive was filled with silence as your mind raced with thoughts over who Neil would invite, if he would invite any girls and if so what did they mean to him. As your stomach filled with anxiety, the roads seemed to elongate and each meter had turned into miles, making the rest of the drive a painful one.

——————

“There they are!” Neil screamed across the parking lot as you and your brother exited the car. Instantly, your face heated up as you looked down and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. Lucien and Neil stood alone with Neil already shirtless, much to your liking, and Lucien carrying the big beach bag. Neil hadn’t looked at you yet, high-fiving your brother and greeting him in their usual loser bro fashion. Lucien looked at you and smiled as he nodded his head as you squeaked a “hi” and left it at that. Your eyes looked over at Neil expecting him to greet you but all you saw was a cocked eyebrow as his eyes scanned your half naked body. Cursing yourself for showing up in just a bikini and see through skirt cover up, you wanted to curl into the ground, anything, just to stop his laser beam gaze over your skin. Finally, his eyes met yours and he huffed a big inhale, only slightly turning his lips into a smile before turning around and walking away.

“Jesus, it’s hot today” Your brother claimed, following just behind Neil with Lucien to his left as you trailed behind.

“I know… I can’t wait to get into the ocean” Lucien said, turning around to look at you. “Come on!” He started waving his hands for you to walk next to him.

Finally, Neil had chosen the spot on the beach with a simple “here” and Lucien dropped the bag and got the towels out. Feeling the tingle of sun over your skin, you unwrapped your skirt and bent over to tuck it into the bag and grabbing some sun lotion. Standing back up you turned around to see Neil already standing behind you, eyes glued to your ass as he stared wide and mouth open a jar. His eyebrow still managed to be cocked as he cleared his throat before his eyes flickered to your face and briefly past the rest of your body. He stood frozen glaring over you, as if it was physically impossible to remove his gaze from your body, constantly having to clear his throat in an attempt to break the obviousness to the tent growing in his trunks.

“You alright there Neil?” Lucien asked as his coughing had become apparent.

“I-uhm- yeah, just something stuck in my throat… sand maybe” he said as he rubbed his chest and gave a half assed smile.

Giving yourself a small smirk before opening the bottle of cream, you turned back around and started squirting the tube over your chest and shoulders, using your hands to rub the cream into your skin and up your neck. Neil had moved significantly closer to you now, close enough that you could hear his slight grunt as he watched you rub the white substance over your exposed areas. After covering what you could by yourself, you innocently looked around to see where your brother was to help you with your back. Much to your dismay, him and Lucien had began running down the beach to the ocean.

“See you losers!” He said as the pair laughed and made their way closer to the water. You awkwardly looked up and saw Neil standing close to you with one hand itching the back of his head, a look of discomfort on his face knowing what you were about to ask.

“Can you help me with my back please?” You said, reaching your arm out to pass him the tube.

“Uh, yeah-yeah of course. Cool” He took the cream as you turned around and moved your hair out of his way. You heard the bottle squirt and a few moments later felt his warm, large hand start at your neck, massaging slowly into your mid back. After only rubbing briefly for a few seconds, he removed his hand and you heard the bottle squirt again. Only this time, the tube had been thrown onto the floor next to your feet as he rubbed his hands together. He placed a strong grip on either sides of your neck and circled small circles at the perfect pressure, following the shape of your body as his hands fell to your shoulders, mid back, waist and lower back. It felt good, and your eyes were slowly shutting. His touch was skilled, much to your surprise, and deliberate on your flesh. His hands squeezed your waist and he stepped closer, you could feel the heat of his skin radiating onto your behind. A small groan fell from his lips as his hands then fell to the lowest of your back he could go, filling the dips above your ass with his thumbs as he rubbed harder, pulling you back slightly onto his crotch. After rubbing your lower back for a couple of seconds with a few groans leaving his lips at whisper level, his thumbs ran up your spine again to the top of your neck.

“There you go” he barely whispered into your ear. A chill ran up your spine as you slowly turned around to create space between you.

“Uhm-thanks” you watched his face as it fell into a slight smirk and he chuckled and walked away, making his way to the ocean to meet your brother and Lucien.

————————

The day had gone on, the boys played a few games on the beach and shared a couple of beers. Neil had reacted insulted when your brother suggested to invite girls, extremely opposed to the idea to bring other people into the hangout. This of course, was amazing news for you. At some point throughout the day, closer to evening time, a group of 2 guys and a girl who you learned to be dating one of the men came over and joined the group. Neil had recognised them as customers that came only the day before and rented out one of his favourite films, exciting asking them how they found the tape. The conversation lasted about an hour and the sun began to fall into the sea as the moon took its place. Disappointingly, the most conversation you had with Neil was when he put sunscreen on you, only giving you prolonged glances throughout the day as he and your brother made friends with the strangers from the day before. Finally, it was time to go home and the sun had completely worn you out, leaving you with a pink tint on your high points and the smell of the sea in your hair. Your brother had invited the pair of guys and the girl to your house for dinner and the afters, promising them there would be enough comfortable space in the car to fit all of you. This of course was not true.

“How will we all fit?” You asked, a couple of the others nodding in agreement.

“I can sit on my boyfriends lap” The girl said kindly.

“Good idea…uhm” Your brother looked around. “Considering I’m the only one who knows how to drive, I need you to sit on someone’s lap” He said looking at you.

“Me?” Your heart thumped a little harder. “Who’s?”

Your brother looked around the group and pointed at Neil, who was equally as surprised as you were. “Considering you’re practically her brother and I can’t trust any of you other pervs, you’ll have to make do with her on your lap for the ride”

Neil took a gulp and slowly looked at you for your reaction. There wasn’t really another choice in this scenario, so you bit the bullet and reluctantly agreed to sit on Neils lap for the car ride home.

——————

“Right, are we all comfortable?” Your brother grinned as he turned around and looked at everyone in the car. You were sat on Neils lap on the left, Lucien in the middle and the guy with his girlfriend on the right, their friend in the front seat and of course your brother driving.

“What do you think?” Neil said, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “Can we just drive please” he commanded.

“Sure thing” Your brother turned back around and switched the radio on to a deafening volume, everyone having to scream over each other in order to be heard. Which they all did, the car was so loud you couldn’t even hear yourself think. The car started and pulled out the driveway, immediately being hit with bumpy roads and uneven driving ground.

You felt Neil shift again, your head shooting back in an attempt to see what all the discomfort was about. You looked at him as his face was slightly red, faced out the window with almost a pained look on his face. His eyes shifted without moving his head and looked at you, he tutted and grabbed your head and turned it around to face the front. You couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. Were you just too heavy? A wave of insecurity passed through you as you suddenly got extremely conscious over the weight you were putting on him. Wiggling on his lap trying to find a new balance, you felt his fingers instantly dig into your sides as you heard him take a sharp inhale of breath. You snapped your head back again to see him looking at your ass, where you connected to his crotch. His hips twitched up and it caused you to sit further back on him, finally feeling the answer to your question. Neil was incredibly hard. You could feel his cock poking just under your swimsuit and practically a thin layer of material away from touching you. His hands moved to your hips as he pressed you down further, eyes still glued onto your ass and eyebrows furrowed. His chest moved up and down at an aggressive pace as his eyes blinked rapidly. You were in shock, he surprisingly felt big for the size of him. Big and warm, whether it was the sun, the beer or the closeness of you two he was so warm. You pressed your legs together in an attempt to control the pulsing you were feeling yourself in your thong bottoms but this only seemed to pleasure him more as he slowly dropped his head back onto the seat’s headrest. After a couple of moments, he brought his head up and you turned to face the front in almost embarrassment to looking at him get a hard-on just from you sitting on his lap. You felt him come up to your ear and push your hips down simultaneously, even circling you a bit to give him a little bit more friction.

“I need you- need you to be so,so still for me” He whispered into your ear, his lips pressed on your neck as shivers went up your spine. All you could muster was slightly looking at him, a look of confusion on your face. His cock was throbbing by this point, his breathing was so heavy and you’d for sure have marks on your sides the next morning. Luckily the music was as loud as it was and it was dark as it was nighttime, making what he was doing not obvious to the people around you. He lent back onto the back of the seat and pressed himself harder into your mound.

“Sorry guys, the road looks a little bumpy coming up” your brother screamed over the radio.

Just as soon as he said that, you were bouncing incredibly aggressively onto Neil’s lap, feeling yourself grinding unintentionally onto his erection and feeling your walls pulsate around nothing at the rough contact you were receiving. The action of this caused Neil to whimper at a much louder volume, coughing over the sound he made to not bring attention to his pleasure.

“Jesus Neil… you’ve had an awful cough all day, are you alright?” Lucien asked to your right. He tightened his grip on your hips and pushed his hips up in frustration.

“I-Uh-yeah… like I said- the sand” He said breathlessly as he looked out the window.

The roads continued to bounce you forcibly onto his clothed boner as his hands massaged your hips, his head twitching in pleasure. After a couple of minutes he was in agony, you could feel his cock pulsate underneath you at the slightest touch and his groans becoming more and more obvious. He brought his chest to your back and placed his lips against your ear before slowly sucking at your lobe and using his tongue down your neck. You moaned slightly under your breath at the sensation which only encouraged him to go further. With his lips still against your ear, you heard him gulp before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry, I-I have to do this” He whined. “I need you so bad” His voice practically cried and purred into your ear.

In shock you turned around as his fingers slipped under your skirt cover up, shifting your thong to the side as you felt your bare pussy pound against his clothed erection. You were soaking and he could feel it through his swimsuit, twitching his hips up in desperation to feel more of you. In one swift movement, his cock was freed from the restraint of his swimsuit and laying on his stomach, your lips bouncing on the underside of his shaft. He used one hand to harshly grab your hips, harder than before to raise you to a higher level, trying his damndest to be as discrete as possible. Lucien was too busy lent over the middle of the car talking to your brother and the guy in the front seat, perfectly covering what Neil was doing with his body to the couple on the right. Not that it would make much difference considering they were too busy twirling tongues with each other. Just as his tip had breached your entrance, your brother warned of a speed bump upcoming which he so clearly didn’t bother to slow down for.

“Speed bump guys!” Your brother said, continuing to speed over the road, causing you to aggressively land your pussy onto Neils cock. The stretch of him was blinding, his tip pounding straight into the back of your cervix with no warning and the stretch of him painful. Though he found little restraint due to how wet you had become, you were still a virgin and his entrance was greeted by the tightest walls he’d ever entered. Your back fell onto his chest as you covered your mouth with your hand in an attempt to cover up the scream your stomach had built up, Neil not doing the same as a loud whimper had left his mouth as his back arched. You felt his chest breath heavily against your back as his whimpers and groans turned into calm cries as the road still bumped and vibrated you around his shaft. Laying on him, he grabbed the side of your face and placed his lips against your ear.

“Oh fuck- fuck- you’re so tight-mmm” He had completely lost composure, losing his dignity to your walls that clenched around his throbbing cock. “I need you to st-stay- fuck oh my god- still” he was choking embarrassingly on his words and you felt your walls clench around him in response to his patheticness. You did as you were told, scared to move as the size of him was still foreign inside you, even slightly moving your hips for comfort caused him to groan and harshly grab you further down onto him.

“Mmm- so-so warm around me. Your pussy’s taking me so well” His hand had left your waist and grabbed the side of the door in an attempt to use it as an outlet for his already growing orgasm.

“You guys alright back there?” You’re brother screamed over the radio which caused you to snap up and quickly move forward, causing an intense heat to shoot up your insides and making Neil whimper again.

“Ye-yeah” You said much too quietly for anyone hear.

The road had seemingly become more bumpy, being able to feel every crack, risen rock and dip on the highway. Neil was practically shaking underneath you, the lack of movement causing his back to arch and brows to furrow as he tried his best to move his hips the most he could. Your back had found it’s way back onto Neils chest again, his hand sneaking underneath your swim suit in a risky attempt to grab your boob. You grabbed his hand and shook your head no in fear you’d get caught, which in turn only made him grab you more aggressively as he flexed his jaw. In retaliation, you tightened your walls around him and clenched him in a rhythmic pattern in desperation to have any slight form of movement or friction. Your ass was wet, not from sweat or sea water but your own arousal. You were piping hot, leaking around his cock and drenching his whole crotch area. Feeling you tighten around him he began to breath heavily again, twitching his hips up to push his already attached tip to your cervix even deeper. The mixture of his slight twitching and the vibration of the car moving was hypnotic, bringing him close to an orgasm.

“I-I’m gonna cum” he whispered in defeat, almost sounding embarrassed. You shot him a look as your eyes widened and your head shook in panic. All he did was chuckle and close his eyes and place his forehead on the side of yours.

“M’gonna cum so deep inside you. Ha-have you leak-“ is all he could say before you felt his cock twitch violently inside you, feeling your walls sprayed in his cum as the already hot area seemed to get boiling. A deep groan had interrupted his sentence as his eyes screwed shut and he grabbed onto you aggressively, hearing his desperate whimpers and groans right next to your ear. You began to clench around him again, although worried and shocked that he had cum inside of you, turned on by how much he seemed to get off by fucking you without moving. His pathetic whimpers were fast paced and he slurred out a mixture of swear words into your face, holding you as close as possible as you continued to feel his seed coat your insides. Hearing his heavy breath slow down and his grip loosen around your waist, you heard him gulp again and sigh out in relief as his eyes stayed shut.

“Fuck” is all he could say. Your breathing too was out of sync and although you felt slightly used, you were still incredibly turned on and disappointed you didn’t get to finish. With his softening cock still inside you he now delicately rubbed your sides, placing small wet kisses on your neck.

“Just wait till we get back” is all he whispered in your ear. “I’ll give you what you deserve”

[andvys]

Enchanted by you | E.M.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, slight angst, mostly fluff, mentions of reader being cheated on by her ex boyfriend, Eddie taking care of reader, happy ending

Pairing: Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: Eddie finds you sitting on bench with tears rolling down your cheeks after your breakup with your boyfriend. He takes matters into his hands and takes care of you, making it one of the best nights of your life.

Word count: 3.4k+

-

It was a chilly summer night when you had talked to Eddie Munson for the first time. You had known him since middle school but between shy glances and small smiles, you have never really interacted with each other– not because you didn’t want to but because you were, well, too shy. You always wished that he would approach you but he never did, not until now. 

You were sitting on some random park bench with tears rolling down your cheeks, hugging your waist tightly as you looked off into the distance. Your boyfriend had been avoiding you for weeks. You haven’t put much thought into why he was doing it, you thought that he was just busy with work but you didn’t expect him to be cheating on you– that he had been cheating on you for a long time now. You caught him when you came home earlier than you were supposed to, he was sleeping in bed with another girl in his arms, in the apartment you were supposed to move in with him now that you were finally back in Hawkins again. You broke up with him the same day. 

You were heartbroken, shocked and confused. You loved him, he was your first love, your first boyfriend, your first everything– the one you planned a future with. You thought that you were happy together, that he was happy with you but obviously he wasn’t, he had already found someone better, someone he didn’t even bother hiding after you had broken up with him. 

Tonight, you were supposed to have a girls night with Nancy but instead she and Robin had the brilliant idea to drag you to Tina’s party who was back in town as well after her trip to europe. After getting drunk on beer, you walked up the stairs, searching for a bathroom, instead you walked in on your now ex-boyfriend, undressing his new girl. You were caught off guard at first, you even apologized for disturbing the pair before you realized who you walked in on.

Eddie had seen you storming out of the house with an angry look on your face and tears rolling down your cheeks. He followed you out. When you took a seat on the bench, he gave you a moment to yourself before he decided to walk over to you. You didn’t see him coming, you were too busy crying and trying to calm your shakiness. 

He looked around, taking a nervous breath before he stepped closer to you. 

“Hey, uh– are you okay?” 

Startled, you flinched at the sound of his voice, you looked up at him with wide eyes. A flustered expression took over your face and you quickly turned away to wipe your tears, “h-hi, yeah, I’m okay.”

You lied. He knew you did. He sighed as he sat down beside you, he took off his jacket when he noticed how much you were shivering. 

“Here, you are shaking like a leaf.” 

After doing your best to wipe away the streaks of mascara on your cheeks, you sniffled and looked back up at him. 

Your eyes were glassy and a little puffy, your lips were set in a frown, you looked miserable and yet, you were still the most beautiful girl to him, just like you always were. 

“No, you’re gonna be cold, Eddie.” 

His heart fluttered and his eyes widened in surprise, he gaped at you. He wasn’t even sure if you would remember him in the first place, you both graduated four years ago and even then, you never really talked to each other, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you wouldn’t even remember or know his name, at all. 

He shook his head, “I got a long sleeve on, it’s fine, please put it on,” he whispered and held his jacket out for you. 

Eddie was practically a stranger, yet he was kinder than your boyfriend ever was. You don’t remember if he actually ever gave you his jacket. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and wrapped the jacket around you, embracing the warmth, “thank you,” you whispered. 

He smiled at you and at the way you looked in his leather jacket. For a moment, neither of you spoke, you looked down, avoiding his eyes. If it were anyone else beside you, you would have probably jumped up and left but for some reason, he gave you an odd sense of comfort, one that felt familiar. 

“So, you remember me?” He asked in curiosity after a few minutes of comfortable silence, pushing the sleeves of his shirt up. 

Your eyes locked with his and your brows furrowed a little as your lips curled into a slight smile, “of course I remember you, you always held doors open for me and you always waved at me in the parking lot.” 

He squinted his eyes and tilted his eyes as he began to smile, “you remember that?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed. It was the highlight of your day, getting a smile and a cute little wave from Eddie Munson. 

“Huh,” he mumbled and leaned back, staring at you, he noticed how much you have changed. Your hair has grown longer, your style has changed, you were still wearing your beloved dresses and skirts but it seemed as though you had found a new color palette, your clothes were darker now but it suited you. You have grown since your teenage years, you were always a sight for sore eyes but now you were just something else. 

You have been away for a while, gone for college. He always looked out for you when he knew that Nancy was in town during breaks knowing that you were most likely here as well but he only ever saw you briefly, much to his dismay. Eddie had the biggest crush on you since middle school, one that somehow never left no matter how much time has passed. When he heard that you graduated college and were coming back to Hawkins, he couldn’t help but feel excited, only to feel disappointment rushing through him when he found out that you were still dating the same jock you have been with since high school. 

He always hated him. 

He hated the way he showed you off, the way he treated you like you were nothing but arm candy, the way he got to hold your hand, the way he got to have a piece of your heart. He hated that he had you. 

“You’ve changed.” 

Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, raising his brows, he looked back into your eyes to find you staring at him. 

“Me?” Eddie asked as he felt himself blushing. 

You nodded, your eyes skipped over his face before they moved down to his neck, his shoulders that got much broader, his left arm adorned with more tattoos. 

“You have more tattoos!” You exclaimed, trying to hide the fact that you were checking him out. 

He chuckled a little, “yeah, got them done last year.” 

“I love that one,” you said, pointing to the dragon. 

“You do?” He asked, smiling as he watched you staring at his tattoos. You scooted closer to him to see them better. His heart fluttered in his chest when he smelled your sweet perfume. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I always wanted one too– a tattoo I mean but I never knew what I wanted a-and Josh never liked tattoos on women,” you frowned after mentioning your boyfriend again. 

Eddie rolled his eyes internally, he just added another reason to the list of why he should hate that man. 

“Well, Josh shouldn’t have to say in what you do to your body, sweetheart.” 

You placed your hands on your lap and looked back up at him, “no?” 

“No.”

“But he was my boyfriend.” 

Was. 

He blinked, straightening up, he could already feel the joy rushing through him, “it’s still your body, you do whatever you want with it because it’s yours! You can go get tattoos– as many as you want! You can change your hair however you want, you can change your clothes, your whole life, you gotta do whatever you wanna do!” 

A giggle fell from your lips, your eyes lit up as did his when he heard your cute laughter. 

“You’ll still be the most metal girl out there!” 

“Most metal?” You giggled again, blushing at his words. 

“Hell yeah!” He grinned, “I always thought you were the coolest girl– still are, by the way.” 

“Thanks,” you whispered, you played with your fingers nervously, “I always thought the same thing about you.”

His eyes widened again, his heart jumped in his chest and he stared at you for a moment. The girl he crushed on for years, even after not seeing her for years, felt the same way about him?

“Even when people called me a freak and whatnot?” 

You frowned at his words and rolled your eyes, “they were assholes, you were never a freak– but hey, my friend, Jonathan. He always said ‘being a freak is the best’. All the other people are normal and boring, you aren’t, you’re cool, the best.” 

Eddie was a little taken aback by your words, why did he take so long to talk to you? His gaze softened the longer he looked at you, your eyes were still glassy– what did he do to you?

“You’re a freak too then ‘cause you’re kinda the best too you know?” He smiled, “I remember when you dumped spaghetti over Jason’s head after he had said something mean to Henderson.” 

You cupped your mouth as you laughed, “that was an impulsive decision,” you said. 

He threw his head back in laughter, “that was the best decision!”

“I did it for you as well!” You blurted. 

“What?”

Your cheeks heated up, “I-I did it for you. He said something mean about you.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what he was feeling, it was a mix of joy and comfort– you defended him? 

“Really?” He asked as he calmed from his laughter, putting his arm on the back of the bench, he subtly scooted closer, “you did it for me?” 

You nodded. 

A soft smile appeared on his face, his heart fluttered for the millionth time tonight. 

“See, you’re the best,” he whispered as he raised his hand towards your face, brushing away a single strand of hair behind your ear. He smiled to himself when you blushed. Cute. 

“Who made you cry, pretty girl?”

The nickname made your stomach flutter. It was so new, yet it felt so familiar. 

“I broke up with Josh,” you mumbled as your eyes welled up with tears again, “h-he cheated on me a-and now he’s with her, like we weren’t together for years.” 

Eddie frowned at your words, sadness rushed through him for you and anger for him. How could he have you and choose someone else? How could he have the best thing and throw it away just like that? 

“I saw him with her and it’s like, I never even mattered to him.” 

Tears rolled down your cheeks and it made his heart hurt to see you like this. He wanted to go back inside the house, find him and punch him for breaking your heart but instead, he opened his arms for you to which you instantly let yourself fall into his embrace. Eddie hugged you tightly and rubbed your back softly. 

You sniffled quietly and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“He’s the biggest idiot, sweetheart,” he whispered as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, “I can imagine how much it hurts you but you were way too good for him, he never even deserved you in the first place. He’s one of those boring assholes who take everything and everyone for granted. I always wondered what you were doing with someone like him.” 

He heard your sniffles and it just made him want to punch him even more. 

“He is gonna come crawling back and I’ll gladly kick his ass for you, sweetheart.” 

“I’m gonna kick his ass too.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled, “we can kick his ass together, how dare he hurt the most amazing girl?” 

You pulled back a little, only far enough so you can see his face again. A gasp made it’s way up your throat when you realized just how close you were. His eyes were shining, flickering with something as he stared down at you. 

“I’m not the most amazing girl.” 

He frowned, “yes you are,” he whispered, “I think we should discuss that over a few milkshakes.” 

Your eyes lit up and despite the tears in your eyes, you smiled, “really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, letting go of you, he already missed your body against his but he offered you his hand as he got up, “come on.” 

You wiped your tears and stared into his eyes before you finally placed your hand in his. 

“Let’s go, princess.” 

“Let’s go,” you repeated after him, giggling. 

Instead of spending the night at the diner, you and Eddie ended up driving up to the lookout, sitting in the back of his van, you were still wearing his jacket as you drank your strawberry milkshake and talked to him like it wasn’t the first time. Hours have passed and the night seemed nowhere near the end, you could sit here with him forever. 

“I didn’t think you’d still be here.” 

“Where’d you think I’d be?”

You shrugged, “thought you’d live your dream in Los Angeles, I always thought you would actually become a rockstar.” 

Eddie’s eyes lit up and a grin formed on his face, “I’m flattered you think I’m good enough to be a rockstar.” 

“You have an amazing voice and you're basically a guitar god with the way you move your fingers!”

Eddie couldn’t even help but smirk at your words, especially after seeing the flustered look on your face and the panicked look in your eyes. 

“I-I mean, you move them so quickly– stop looking at me like that!” 

He chuckled and ducked out of the way when you threw a fry at him, “where’s your mind at, sweetheart?” 

You blushed even deeper, “where’s your mind at?” 

“Not where yours is!” He chuckled, “but hey, thank you, I’m flattered, really.” 

“You’re welcome, Eddie,” you smiled. “What happened to the band?” 

“Oh, we’re still playing every Tuesday!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah! You should come watch us play.” 

“I will,” you smiled as you watched the way his eyes lit up. 

“Cool,” he whispered, nodding to himself as his eyes flickered with joy, “I-I’m not a rockstar but I still work with music so that’s nice.” 

“At the record store, right?” 

He leaned forward, he looked at you curiously, “yeah, how’d you know?” 

“Robin told me.” 

“Oh, you talk about me, huh?” He asked, wiggling his brows. 

Yes. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, fighting off the smile as you looked down, “I should come by sometime, I heard that the manager is really hot.” 

He frowned at first, tilting his head as he stared at you in question, his curls fell to the side. He looked so cute. 

“But I’m the manager–” he cut himself off, his eyes widened and before he could play it cool or smirk at you, his cheeks turned bright red. Too cute. “Oh!”

You were flirting with him. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach fluttered with butterflies. 

“Y-You think I’m hot?” He smirked.

Ridiculously hot. Here he was with his beautiful brown eyes and his pretty curls, rings on his fingers, tattoos littering his pale skin, the prettiest voice you had ever heard and a cologne that made you dizzy– he looked like a bad boy but he was the sweetest guy you had ever been in the presence of. 

“I always thought you were hot,” you admitted shyly.

He placed the takeaway cup down and scooted closer to you, “why do I just find out now?” 

You bit your lip and shrugged, “I-I didn’t think that you– I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stuttered. 

Eddie’s eyes softened, even in the darkness, he could see the uncertainty in your eyes, the shy look on your face. He reached for your hand and you gladly placed it in his. He smiled and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand. 

“Sweetheart, you could never make me uncomfortable,” he whispered, “I know this might not be the right time to say this but, I was always fucking crazy about you, you could have dumped those spaghetti on me instead of Carver and I’d still have a big crush on you.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise and a giggle tore from your lips, “I would never do this to you!” 

He laughed, tugging you closer to him, “I know you wouldn’t, sweet girl. I’m just saying, I-I wish I had the courage to do something about my feelings back then but I was scared, w-we didn’t really talk and you knew about my reputation, I was too scared that you’d reject me but shit, I wish I would have just asked you out before that asshole came along. I would’ve treated you like a queen.” 

Your features softened and you placed your other hand over his, squeezing it gently. 

His eyes flickered down to your lips, he stared at them longingly, like he had always dreamed of kissing you– he did. 

His heart was racing in his chest, “I still would if you let me,” he whispered and looked back into your eyes, “I-I know you just got out of a long relationship but I– we don’t have to do anything, we can just–”

“I’ll let you.”

His pupils flared and a huge smile appeared on his face after the moment of shock simmered away. 

“You will?” He asked excitedly. 

You nodded, smiling at the beautiful man in front of you. You let him pull you closer by your waist until you’re in between his legs, his face just mere inches away from yours. He moved his hands up your arms, staring at the way his jacket hugs your frame, he brushed your hair back and cupped your cheek. 

“Hi,” he whispered, his nose bumping into yours causing you both to giggle. 

“Hi Eddie,” you whispered. 

He felt like he was enchanted by your beauty, by your voice, by you. He always was, from the first moment he had laid his eyes on you. He was enchanted by you and he loved it. 

He stared at you for what felt like forever– he could admire you forever and he would be content with just doing that. He traced your cheek with his thumb and looked into the eyes that were filled with tears earlier– now they showed nothing but peace and happiness, it made him happy. 

This morning, he woke up, made himself a cup of coffee before work and got ready. It was a normal day as always– if he would’ve just known that the girl of his dreams would be in his arms later that night, he would’ve left the house with the biggest smile on his face. 

“I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered as he admired you.

Your pupils widened and a small gasp left your lips, your heart fluttered the way it never had before. 

He leaned closer and kissed your cheek, “you’re an angel.”

“I always thought you were the most beautiful boy,” you whispered back, making him smile. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled as you mimicked his actions and leaned in to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for a second. 

If you could, you would hear his heart racing like crazy. 

“The most beautiful girl should be with the most beautiful boy, don’t you think?” He asked as he leaned in to kiss your other cheek. You smelled like the strawberry milkshake you just had, it made him want to kiss you even more. 

“Mhmm.” 

You smiled at each other, happily. 

Right now, you weren’t in pain, you weren’t thinking about anyone but him, you were happy, content and excited for the future, just like he was. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and continued to hold your cheeks. 

“The hot record store manager and the sexy journalist, sounds perfect to me.” 

You giggled.

“I can write stories about you,” you smiled.

“No sweetheart, you can write stories about us.” 

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSWF, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, rough sex, degradation, no after care, slight non-con, after bruising, sukuna sucks during sex A/N: I never said Sukuna was gonna be a good guy yet... but that doesn't mean I don't plan to try and redeem him. Sukuna is an absolute toxic man at this point, so keep that in mind.

index part five | part seven

part five word count: 2,931

you couldn't quite figure out what had come over Sukuna recently. over the past few days, he seemed to be everywhere you were. after your kiss, he’d been noticeably kinder—or at least less overtly hostile—and he wasn’t completely avoiding you anymore.

“is it just me, or did someone kidnap my brother and replace him with a clone?” Yuji asked, watching as Sukuna offered you a bite of his food before retreating to his room to eat.

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “probably, but I’m not complaining. if I can get through a day without being cursed out every other sentence, I’m all for it.”

“it’s just weird,” Yuji said, leaning against the counter and staring at the stairs as if expecting answers to materialize. “it’s like he only acts like this around you.”

his comment made your cheeks warm. there was no way he’d figure it out so quickly. “maybe he’s been sipping on some respect women juice?” you suggested with a smile.

Yuji’s face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off. “that’s it! I bet he found a girlfriend!”

you choked on your drink. Yuji’s theory left you sputtering, trying to regain your composure. “uh, yeah, maybe,” you managed to say, still a bit flustered.

Yuji’s excitement was palpable. “it makes sense, right? maybe he’s trying to impress someone.”

you forced a laugh, hoping Yuji wouldn’t press further. “sure, let’s go with that.”

Yuji seemed to accept this explanation, nodding to himself. “well, if it means he’s less of a jerk, I guess I’m okay with it.”

as Yuji wandered off, you found yourself alone with your thoughts, your mind racing. Sukuna's recent change in behavior was a puzzle, and while Yuji’s theory was amusing, you knew there was more to it. a darker truth, a deeper desire burning inside of your bones that would never dare admit to your best friend.

when sukuna emerged from his room later, his usual guarded demeanor was back in place, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes when he looked at you. it was a stark contrast to the rough exterior he usually wore.

“Yuji’s got a big mouth. could hear him all the way upstairs,” sukuna said gruffly, though there was no real malice in his tone.

you raised an eyebrow, playing along. “yeah, he does. but what’s this about you being a clone?”

sukuna smirked, a trace of his old self peeking through. “I guess I’ll have to keep you guessing.”

as he walked past you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. you weren’t sure if you should push it with him, but you were aching to bring up the kiss. the way he spoke about wanting to see if you were innocent. the feeling of his hands on your hips – and the fact that you were ready to let him do whatever he wished. maybe if you just-

“you’re starin’ at me like I’ve got two heads, doll.” Sukuna’s voice cracked through your thoughts. he tilted his head quizzically at you, trying to read your expression with a smirk. “having a walking wet dream about me?”

“sukuna!” you hissed, whipping around to scan the living room, ensuring that Yuji and Choso were both well out of earshot. “don’t be so crass.”

Sukuna’s smirk only grew as he advanced, his presence forcing you against the counter. “looks like we’re right back to where we were a few days ago,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

you felt a flush creep up your neck at the memory, the way it played so vividly in your mind as if it had happened just moments ago. “I thought you’d have forgotten by now.”

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “if you find yourself feeling lonely tonight, you know exactly where to find me.”

a shiver jolted through your body at his words, and you had to clamp down on the urge to grab his face and pull him into a kiss right there in the kitchen. Sukuna’s low, rumbling chuckle echoed in your ears as he drew back, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint. with one last, lingering wink, he turned and walked back to his room, leaving you to grapple with the heat of his words and the buzz of his presence still lingering in the air.

you felt like a machine, mechanically going through the motions to get ready to go to bed, the electricity still buzzing inside of you. you combed through your hair (with a little more care than usual), brushed your teeth (maybe a little to vigorously), and applied a lovely, scented lotion. sure, maybe you added some extra steps to your routine, and maybe you slipped on a cuter set of pajamas than usual.

but no matter how much you might have primped, you swore up and down that you wouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

as you lay in bed, struggling to quiet your racing thoughts and falling prey to fantasies that danced through your mind, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand. you nearly leaped out of bed to grab it, a surge of anticipation and nervous energy rushing through you.

‘Kuna: you up?’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity of his text—so straightforward, so typical of him. a whirlwind of emotions churned inside you as you debated whether or not to reply. before you could make up your mind, your phone buzzed again.

‘Kuna: get up here.’

your heart skipped a beat. it was as if an invisible string had yanked you from your bed. without a second thought, you slipped out of bed, making sure to close your door quietly behind you. you crept up the stairs as stealthily as possible, the silence of the house amplifying each step you took. when you reached Sukuna’s door, you knocked softly, the anticipation making your pulse race.

when the doorknob turned, Sukuna swung it open, revealing himself in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. your hands were already trembling with nerves, the sight of him in such a casual state sending a jolt of excitement through you. “come in, welcome to my dungeon,” he said with a lopsided grin, stepping aside to let you enter.

as you stepped into the room, a wave of anxiety settled into your stomach. the space before you was one you had always been forbidden from entering—a room even Yuji hesitated to tread. the room was a stark contrast to the rest of the house, a sanctuary that seemed to exude Sukuna’s very essence.

“wow, I feel like I’m breaking some sort of rule by being in here,” you joked, trying to mask your unease as you took in the scene. the room was dark and moody, with deep-toned bedding and a set of weights casually thrown into one corner. heavy metal band posters adorned the walls, each one screaming Sukuna’s personality.

before you could comment further on the eclectic decor, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. he spun you around to face him, his lips crashing into yours with an urgent intensity. “been wanting to do that every damn day,” he growled, his voice rough with longing as he nipped at your lips. the fierceness of his kiss sent shivers down your spine, and all your previous anxiety seemed to melt away under the heat of his touch.

“why haven’t you?” you asked through kisses, your hands already coming around to fist the back of his shirt.

“damn brats all over the place.” he muttered, bringing his hands onto your face. you weren’t surprised by how rough and insistent he was being – your desire to just be touched by him overwhelmed you.

“well, you’ve got me all to yourself now.” you told him as his lips trailed from yours down your neck, biting the skin there and causing you to groan.

he didn’t respond, only guided you backwards until your legs hit the edge of his bed before you laid on your back. Sukuna leaned above you, looking down at you as you stared up at him. maybe, you told yourself, just maybe he was looking at you with actual affection.

“I told you I’ve been wanting to see how innocent you were, now I’ve got the chance.” Sukuna grunted as he dipped his head down to your neck again while his hands began to roam your body. everywhere he touched, everywhere he kissed, left a trail of fire that had your skin burning.

through your heavy, pleasured breathing, you grabbed his face to bring him up to kiss you – but he pulled away to dive into your breasts. you gasped at the contact, feeling him shoving the material up your body and roughly pulling it over your head. “Sukuna,” you squealed, wanting to cover up.

as your arms went to cover yourself, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over you with one hand. Sukuna immediately latched himself onto one of your perked up nipples, sucking and nipping at them feverishly. when he bit a little too hard, you yelped out, only making him go harder at the sound.

you wanted him to kiss you, but every time you tried to connect your lips with his he buried his face elsewhere. his hand untied your silky shorts, shoving them down your legs. you might’ve thought nothing of it until you felt a cool breeze hitting your already dripping core. he’d taken your panties with your pants.

“Sukuna, maybe we should slow-”

“shh.” he interrupted, letting his grip on your wrist go before moving that hand to cover your mouth. “wanna taste you.”

with your eyes as wide as saucers, you watched as he nuzzled into your heat, quickly licking a stripe through your folds. your back arched and you moaned into his hand at the contact, wanting more. needing more.

as if your reaction told him all he needed to hear, he suddenly slurped up your juices loudly, his tongue diving into your pussy. “Skna,” you whined, muffled by his skin as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“taste s’ good.” Sukuna murmured as he devoured you. instinctively, your thighs began to squeeze shut, clenching his head between them. he didn’t even look up at you as he pulled up from licking you to spit on your clit before taking it between his lips, sucking hard and swirling his tongue around it.

he removed his hand from your mouth to pry one of your legs to the side, gripping it so hard you were sure you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips. “Sukuna, feel s’ good.” you rasped as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace now, every suck of your clit sending you closer and closer to your orgasm.

just as you thought you were about to cum, and were close to warning him, he withdrew his fingers and his mouth, leaving you cold. “need t’ fuck you right now.” Sukuna growled, grasping your hips and flipping you with harsh speed so that you were on your stomach. he slid a hand under you, pulling your hips up so that your ass was in the air. 

“fuck, do you have a condom?” you asked, your body trembling with desire and a tightness in your gut from getting so close to your release.

“no, don’t use ‘em.” you wanted to protest, but you were so desperate for him to just put it inside of you.

you tried to turn your body, so that you could see his face, but his hand shot to the back of your neck and lower back to keep you in place. “stay still f’ me doll.” he groaned, and before you could plead with him to kiss you, you felt his tip teasing your entrance.

when the hell did he take off his pants?

while you weren’t inexperienced with sex, having a few flings over your college years, you were pretty sure it had never been like this. just as you were thinking he’d slowly enter you – just like your past experiences – you shrieked as he shoved his cock fully inside of you.

pain and pleasure seared through you as tears pricked your eyes. “you’re so – fuck – so tight.” Sukuna panted as he wasted no time in bullying his cock inside until it was kissing your cervix.

“you’re – mph – too big, Sukuna.” you moaned, trying to will your walls to stretch for him so that you wouldn’t feel the pain. “s-slow down.”

but he either didn’t hear you over his own pleasure, or didn’t care, because his pace only quickened. “that’s right, doll – hah – take my fat cock like the little slut you are.” Sukuna bit out, snapping his hips into yours with such force that you almost fell forward.

“Sukuna, please—” you whimpered, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. you could barely muster the words, but you needed him to kiss you, to slow down and be gentler.

the hand Sukuna held on to the back of your neck slipped around to grab your throat, pulling your body back to meet his pace. “takin’ it s’ well.” slap. “knew you weren’t innocent.” slap. “gonna be m’ dirty whore.”

with every dirty insult, you tried to tell yourself that he probably just had a degradation kink. he didn’t actually mean those things. with your body still at war between pain and pleasure, you felt him bullying your g spot with his cock and you arrived at the edge yet again.

“Sukuna – ha – slow down – mph – ‘m gonna cum.” you hiccupped, tears rolling down your face now at the stimulation your body was being put through. every time his tip hit your g spot you felt the wave start to crash over you. he didn’t slow down, sending you right over the cliff.

your vision went white as a blazing hot orgasm rocketed through you, your body spasming and clenching around his cock while you tried to keep quiet and not scream his name. even as you rode out your release, he continued bullying into you, harder and faster now as he relished the feeling of you milking him.

“that’s right, cum on this dick.” Sukuna barked, his grip tightening on your throat to the point you were beginning to see stars. his hips snapped into yours more forcefully, echoing lewd, wet slaps through the room as he neared the ledge as well, losing control of his thrusts.

just as you were about to tell him to pull out, since he wasn’t wearing a condom, you felt a twitch inside of you as he let out a loud groan. warmth spread through your pussy, coating your walls with his cum as he rutted into you. “fuck fuck fuck.” he growled out, slamming into you until he was absolutely drained of cum.

you both were panting heavily when he pulled out of you. “that was-” you started to say with a weak smile, until Sukuna practically threw a towel in your direction.

“here, to clean up.” he stated, using a washcloth to clean himself off before pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

shame rushed through you suddenly. he didn’t even look at you as he went to take a drink of water, merely letting you clean yourself off as you felt his cum seeping out of you. you screamed at him in your mind to just look at you, to kiss you softly and help you clean up the mess he made, to hold you and caress you and to –

“’m gonna crash now.” Sukuna broke through your storm of thoughts, pulling back his blankets and climbing in bed while you still sat on the edge. “maybe you should go back downstairs, so it’s not suspicious in the morning.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you scrambled to put your pajamas back on, your movements hurried and frantic. “y-yeah, that makes sense,” you forced out, trying to sound casual despite the tears now streaming down your cheeks. you refused to turn around, unwilling to let him see you cry. “goodnight,” you mumbled as you opened his door and fled from the room, shutting it quietly behind you.

you stood in the hallway for a moment, feeling numb and disoriented, as if your legs were unable to move on their own. with a sense of zombie-like detachment, you made your way down the stairs, no longer caring about making any noise. you trudged into the bathroom; the fluorescent lights harsh against your tear-streaked face.

you grabbed a wet washcloth and began to clean up, your silent sobs almost breaking through. as you wiped your legs, a sudden sharp pain made you flinch. glancing down, you saw dark bruises beginning to form on your thighs, one set specifically looking like finger markings. panic surged through you, and you rushed to the mirror, your breath hitching as you saw a handprint emerging on your neck and a raw, angry bite mark between your neck and shoulder. the sight made your heart race, and your breathing came in shallow gasps, the reality of what had happened crashing down on you with brutal clarity.

when your head finally hit the pillow, your entire body aching and tears still rolling down your face, you found sleep quickly. and this time, there were no pleasant dreams to make you feel better.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

A/N DISCLAIMER: let me just clarify, this is NOT how sex should be unless both parties' consent to this level of degradation and roughness. if you're into that kind of thing and your partner is too, then by all means have at it! I took this from my own past relationship, and how it was, and I know it was never supposed to be like that. so please, don't think this is normal whatsoever. IT IS NOT. this is purely a work of fiction, and I would never tell anyone that this was okay.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[itsabouttimex2]

For fun how about rating Wukong ship from lmk and give your opinion why?

SWK Ship Ratings

(Scores rank from -10 at the lowest, and 10 at the highest)

Shadowpeach

Name Rating: 5/10. Basic, but rolls off the tongue. Started the trend of Sun Wukong having extremely basic ship names- more on that below.

Canon Rating: 0/10. Whatever they had in the past, Macaque simply treats Wukong far too awfully to really justify the two of them ever getting together. Even the attempts at reconciliation feel more like extremely forced ship baiting, given how it goes from one of the two being marginally kinder to the other than usual, then immediately dropping it for more sniping. (Past!Shadowpeach receives 5/10.)

Fanon Rating: -10/10. I’ve spoken at length about this, but fans love to distort Wukong into a drooling abuser so stupid he can’t breath through his nose, usually while turning Macaque into a Possession Sue who only serves to be the author’s simpering self-insert who is the most perfect little baby of all time who has never ever done anything wrong at all even once. If there is an attempt to be “nuanced” or “unbiased” it manifest as “Sun Wukong “killed” (re: defended himself against) Macaque so he’s worse.” It’s an awful, extremely pervasive dynamic that rots any fandom enjoyment I could have had for this couple.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Getting to write Macaque as the legitimately awful person that he is takes off the edge of seeing constant “uwu sadboi” Macaque content. Still, I rarely touch anyone else’s Shadowpeach content because of this.

Peachlotus

Name Rating: 2/10. As you’ll see, most ship names involving Sun Wukong are, uh… extremely lazy. Just one of the other character’s traits with “peach” slapped before/after it. Fandom really dropped the ball with most of these. This one is especially clunky, at least on my tongue.

(See, Macaque gets stuff like Lunartides, Inkypages, Shadowpeach, etc- all very cool.. We need to diversify the nouns is what I’m saying. Coulda been something like “GingerRoot” cause orange fur + plant boy. “FlowerBuds” for the platonic name for peaches + lotuses. Do you guys see what I’m saying. It can’t just be raw peaches all the way down.)

Canon Rating: 2/10. Ne Zha also doesn’t treat Wukong too kindly, interacting with him mostly through insults and physical attacks. He does seem to have some understanding of the king, though, which gives him a slight boost over Macaque.

Fanon Rating: 1/10. It barely exists, and what little does exist is essentially just “Ne Zha is mad at Wukong over what the fuck ever, so they’re fighting” and little more. There’s a lot of potential for bonding over immortality and awful pasts or being commandeered by domineering authority figures, which I wish was used more often.

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I don’t see the dynamic, personally. Again, Ne Zha’s only interactions with him are only ever vitriolic or exasperated in nature, which doesn’t leave stable footing for a relationship to stand. Maybe I’ll make a chatbot for them one day and see if I come around to it.

“Freepeaches”

Name Rating: -5/10. This shit is exactly what I’m talking about with the lazily slapping “peach” onto whatever and going on. “Free” has no meaning between Wukong and Tang- it’s just a holdover from a more popular ship. Tang only mooches food from Pigsy. That’s one of the biggest elements of their dynamic. Sure, Tang likes free stuff (food, rides, physical labor), but when does he ever get that from Wukong? It just makes no sense.

AND IF IT HAD TO HAVE THE FRUIT, TANGYPEACHES WAS RIGHT THERE

Canon Rating: 6/10. Tang literally drew himself and the Monkey King together inside a heart. He adores Wukong, thought maybe not for who he truly is- and the two don’t any interaction in terms of Tang realizing his autistic parasocial special interest idol is a lonely old sage who misses his friends, which cripples what was a pretty cute dynamic. I think Tang coming down from his hero worship and being just a genuine friend to SWK would be cute, definitely.

Fanon Rating: 9/10. Pretty enjoyable! Freepeaches is one of the few dynamics where Sun Wukong isn’t constantly turned into a punching bag/villain to be beaten around for the amusement of the audience, and the two are often portrayed as legitimately healthy together- I especially enjoy how Tang is portrayed as needing to move past his hero worship for the two to have a healthy relationship. It’s cute.

Personal Enjoyment: 6/10. Never addressing the resemblance to Sanzang or having them interact in regards to this while the circlet is back on Wukong’s head feels like a massively missed opportunity, honestly. I think Sun Wukong’s personal feelings have been left to the wayside for far too long in canon, and getting to a point where almost every fucking character represses their feelings is lazy and boring.

Peachbuns

Name Rating: 4/10. Again. Just “peach” slapped onto an adjective or noun. It’s frustratingly boring. This one sounds delicious and both components are related to food at least, which fits Pigsy’s background… but it also sounds like something a horny dude would ask for pics of in your DMs.

Canon Rating: 1/10. Pigsy isn’t willing to take any of Wukong’s shit, so he serves as a pretty great “bullshit barrier” that provides a legitimately strict opposing force to Wukong, but there’s little else to even their relationship out. He’s never kind or supportive or worried- if the two interact, it’s always through the lens of “Pigsy is mad/suspicious”. There’s never any real bonding or growth between them at all.

Fanon Rating: 4/10. This ship barely exists, and when it does it’s Sun Wukong being lectured through life by a big strong man- not a dynamic I’m a fan of. However, it is surprisingly kind to Wukong in terms of empathizing with his struggles. Again, I wish there was less of “Pigsy teaches Wukong basic life skills” because it falls right back into the revolting fanon that is “SWK is a big dumb fuck who can’t read or cook or take care of himself without a husband to wipe his ass.”

Personal Enjoyment: 2/10. I just don’t click with it. Pigsy doesn’t like Wukong, doesn’t trust him, and doesn’t interact with him outside of that.

Moonstone

Name Rating: 10/10. This is what I like! Moonstone is not only a very real (and very beautiful) mineral, but it ties to both of them equally! You don’t see Wukong’s status as a stone-born demon be referenced often, so this is a refreshing change of pace from the constant “peach” names.

Canon Rating: 7/10. Chang’e is a lovely woman who is simultaneously not be willing put up with Sun Wukong’s bullshit while still legitimately respecting and admiring him. It makes for a nice duality in their relationship that most of his dynamics don’t provide.

Fanon Rating: 10/10. The working dynamic is so fucking good to start with that I’ve never once seen fanon drop the ball. Never. This ship is always so fucking sweet and honest with Chang’e calling out Wukong for his bullshit while never pushing it to the “Shit on Sun Wukong Show” levels that the fandom loves so much- she takes no shit, but does no harm. She’s supportive and acknowledges his traumas and fears. Wukong does his best for her. Moonstone shippers get an A+ and extra recess time.

Personal Enjoyment: 7/10. I just… I really like this one, dammit. There’s not a lot to go off of, but seeing fanworks that do not primarily treat SWK like living trash/baby the hell out of him is nice.

Lionpeach

Name Rating: 3/10. Again. Very boring and generic. I’ve seen Fuzzypeach which is a little cuter, at least. Still, it’s all the same “peach”+noun format.

Canon Rating: 3/10. The devotion Azure bears to Sun Wukong seems like it would bear a higher marking, but it’s shallow and flimsy. Azure never understood Wukong, never wanted what was best for him, never cared about his safety or happiness. Azure projects his beliefs and wants onto the people around him, blinding the big fella to shortcomings on their parts, and is delusional enough to never look inwards. Still, I can legitimately see

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It’s just smut. That’s it. When it isn’t it’s just “Ooooh! Azure is jealous of Macaque! Tee-hee, sorry Azure!” and that’s it. I’ve never actually seen any non-sexual, Azure-focused Lionpeach.

Personal Enjoyment: 5/10. It’s a fun enough dynamic to explore, especially with how unhealthy it is. I’ll probably make a bot of this too one day. Maybe a “yandere dads” type. Or a mutual Primal Moon bot.

Celestialchaos

Name Rating: 10/10. Another not peach-based name is a win in my book!

Canon Rating: 6/10. Xiangliu is civil enough to Wukong (about as much as everyone else), but the mention of them having once been friends is what got my attention. Shrouded past + + potential reincarnation shenanigans + decently civil behavior = a very happy writer. It’s so little but it makes my brain itch.

Fanon Rating: 0/10. It doesn’t even exist babes ;( I’m scrounging for water in the lonely plains of a desert y’all. I’m a lonely little cactus and Celestialchaos is my annual three-inch rain.

Personal Enjoyment: 10/10. C’mon now. You all were expecting this. I love this ship. I’ve already made four chatbots. I love Xiangliu as a wild little freak who desperately tries to push Wukong away from other people and sad lonely Wukong finding refuge in a freaky toxic snake. Especially I like the idea of Xiangliu pitting himself against Macaque and going after Sun Wukong just to cause a little trouble, only to actually catch feelings and start pursuing him in earnest. I like “I want you at your worst so I can prove that I still love you even then” Xiangliu and “You love me at all?” Wukong.

I really like this ship.

End Result

(Scores ranging from -40 to +40)

Shadowpeach= 1/40

(Past!Shadowpeach would around 20)

Lotuspeach= 7/40

Freepeaches= 16/40

Peachbuns= 11/40

Moonstone= 34/40

Lionpeach= 11/40

Celestialchaos= 26/40

[upsidedownwithsteve]

could I request shy!reader with eddie where he is super protective over her during school? like he has NO problems telling people off if they make a comment to her/make her feel uncomfortable!

Eddie found you in the library, head bent, eyes a little unfocused as you scanned each line, pages fluttering in the quiet when you turned them. Mrs Scott was already frowning at him when he walked past the main desk, the librarian unused to seeing the boy between the stacks of books.

Eddie waved, smiling brightly as he tried to convince the woman he wasn’t here to cause trouble. He walked a little faster towards you, grinning when he realised you still hadn’t noticed him. So he laughed a little when you jumped at his touch, his face buried in your neck as he leaned over the back of your chair.

“Jesus, Eddie, you scared me,” you whispered, voice a hiss but you softened when you leaned back into him, his chest a solid warmth behind you.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, his hands squeezing at your shoulders. “Hi.”

You warmed under his gaze, those eyes shining at you, all fond and familiar. Putting your bookmark between the pages, you pushed the novel to the side, cheek to your shoulder so you could press a kiss to the top of Eddie’s hand, a surprising bout of affection from you considering you were in school, but Eddie took it without comment, not wanting to embarrass you.

“Why aren’t you at lunch, huh?” He sat down in the chair next to you, knees bumping and eyes concerned. “Been lookin’ for you.”

You shrugged, unwillingly to meet Eddie’s gaze cause he could read you like the story you’d just paused. “I’m not hungry,” you lied.

The boy frowned, picking up your hand to hold it in his, fingertips running over your knuckles, the dainty, gold rings on each finger, a pretty contrast to his own.

“You feelin’ okay? I can take you home, if you want.”

You melted into him at the sentiment, wanting nothing more than to skip the rest of your classes, wondering if you could convince Eddie to do the same and let you spend the day in his bed. You like the afternoons when it was quiet, the days that were lazy and long and you could stay against Eddie’s chest.

You shook your head, disappointed. “No, it’s okay! I’m fine,” you tried to convince yourself and him. “I have a calc test next period.”

Eddie didn’t seem to believe you. Well, he knew you had a calc test, he believed that part. Just not when you said you were fine. You looked small, tired, curled in on yourself as you thumbed the pages of your book. So the boy waited, one arm slung around the back of your chair now, his hand making trails up and down your spine and he kept going until you softened, shoulders coming down from where they sat at your ears, putty against him.

He was gentle when he asked, careful about it. “Sweetheart? Are those girls still bothering you? Jenny Deegan? And whatsherface, her friend— the one with the ponytail.”

You cringed, hating how Eddie knew. Bothering was an understatement, but at the age you were, the idea of being “bullied” seemed mortifying. Besides, you weren’t sure what these girls were doing could be classed as such. Girls were mean in a different way, vicious, nasty, unsatisfied until there were tears in your eyes.

There was no being pushed to the ground at lunchtime, no stupid signs pinned to your back or childish name calling. No, mean girls liked to give compliments to your face, superficial and mocking, hardly waiting to burst out laughing when you turned away, too embarrassed to respond properly.

They liked to spread rumours, write things on the bathroom wall and they liked to pout when you blinked back tears, scathing, patronising, cruel.

You sniffed, shoving your face back into your book. “What? No.”

A lie. It tasted bitter in your tongue.

Eddie frowned. “Babe, you gotta tell them to fuck off,” he said, voice kinder than his words. “Huh? I know you hate confrontation, but I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Your lip wobbled.

“Want me to scare them off?” Eddie pushed his nose to your cheek, whispering when Mrs Scott glared over in your direction. “I can get a bible or somethin’, come to school in black robes and start chanting at them, talk real loud about blood sacrifices, yeah?”

You snorted at the mental image your boyfriend painted, lips quirking upwards and Eddie beamed at the sight. “Like you have a bible,” you told him, your voice still soft, softer still when you turned to press your face to Eddie’s chest.

His arms came up around you, one hand curling into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I’d source one,” he shot back. “For you, I’d write out my own damn religion. Somethin’ scary enough that those bitches leave you alone.”

Normally you’d frown upon name calling, but there was something about Eddie’s sharp words that soothed the ache inside you. You kissed the skin above the collar of his T-shirt, eyes blinking back the tears Eddie made sure never fell.

“Yeah?” You asked weakly. God, you were tired.

“Yeah, babe,” Eddie agreed, a kiss pushed soft to your cheek in confirmation. “Ain’t no one making my girl cry.”

…