#bc last time I just. yeah it wasn’t the best moment

[vampiremourning]

trying soo hard to be normal and Good At Conversation this time

[vanesycho]

YO I JUST HAD A DREAM about RED HAIR YUTA giving me the best head of my life

And I would love if some body can make a story about it because....

LORD HAVE MERCY

RED HAIR YUTA BRO🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

a/n:no bc IT MUST BE THE BEST DREAM IN THE WORLD. red haired yuta is my reason for living😔 anyways thank you for your request i hope it was as you wanted🤍

warning:smut, eating out, a little fingering

If there was one thing you loved in this life, it was your boyfriend with red hair. Okay, it might sound weird, but really, have you seen him? When he got home, you just stared at the red hair you saw with excitement. “You dyed your hair!” Yuta grinned at your excitement. “Yeah, I just wanted to go back to that color. You like it?” You approached him and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his lips. He held you tightly by your waist, preventing you from pulling away. “Does that mean yes?” A small giggle escaped your mouth. You nodded. “Good. Then lay down and let me eat you out, hm? I bet you want to hold on to that red hair you love.”

Even the thought of it stirred something inside you, so you did as he said and laid down. Yuta was on top of you in no time, easily removing your shorts and panties, slapping his hand on your clit and slowly stroking it. Then leaned over, made you cross your leg over his shoulder, he sucked your clit, you whined briefly, put your hand directly to his red hair that you loved. He laughed against your pussy "Cute." He buried himself inside you without waiting any longer. Started to caress the inside of your pussy with his tongue, he touched your hole "Yuta.." He listened to how you moaned his name needily, he gave you more every time your moan increased.

He put his tongue inside your hole, tasted every inch of you without rushing. Reached out his hand and started to caress your nipple. You started to move your hips "More, please.." The slowness of his tongue was driving you crazy, but he didn't listen to you, he pulled back slightly to talk between tongue strokes "Be patient. Or I'll leave before you cum." You swallowed, he easily slid a finger inside you while continuing to caress your pussy with his tongue, you let out a loud moan with the unexpected move. Yuta didn’t move, just curled it inside you, his finger slowly sliding in and out of you as his tongue sped up on your clit.

Your pussy tightened, you could already feel yourself coming, Yuta knew you were close with your finger wrapped around him. He let out a moan against your pussy. “Oh you better cum in my mouth.” He pulled his finger out, just as you were about to whine, he spread your legs wider and started licking your hole quickly. He thrust it back inside you, your waist arching in pleasure as you felt yourself getting even closer to cumming. “Please..I-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, you couldn’t even speak properly from the pleasure, you just moaned his name needily. Your wetness had covered almost every inch of Yuta, if that was possible he pushed his tongue further inside you and then all of your cum came right into his mouth. Yuta moaned in pleasure as you moaned in a tearful voice, tasting you for a while. He pulled away for a moment, smirking at how wet and spent you looked. “Was that good? Or should I make you cum again?” When you saw that he was looking at you with hungry eyes, you knew very well that this wasn’t the last.

[sunsetchicane]

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 

“Thank God you actually showed up.” 

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 

“You think?” 

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 

[suugarbabe]

the 'anything but' party | m.r x reader

prompt: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

word count: 2.2k

warning: angst, smut, heavy smut, 18+ MDNI!!

You were okay with parties. You weren’t ever overly obsessed with them, but the party tonight you were particularly excited about. It was a theme party. The theme being any house but your house. Very typical of the Gryffindors to throw something that will likely cause absolute chaos, but you were here for it. 

You threw on the jersey you had borrowed from Enzo Berkshire. You had a few classes with him and was even partnered with him in potions last year. When you heard about the theme he was the first person you went to. You asked if you could borrow his jersey for the party and he was more than willing to loan it out to you. 

As you threw it on it fell to about mid thigh. You thanked Merlin for Enzo’s height because now you could just wear his jersey as a dress. You turned to Luna, who had borrowed a bomber jacket from Blaise, “How do I look Lunes?”

She tilted her head, smiling and clasping her hand together, “You look marvelous! I think it would’ve suited us well to be sorted in to Slytherin.” 

You laughed a little, “Yeah, I do quite like how I look in green.” Your thoughts drifted to another Slytherin that would be able to accommodate your new favorite color. 

“Thinking about Mattheo?” Luna’s voice cut into your internal monologue and your cheeks instantly flamed. 

You did your best not to stutter over your words, “I don’t, erm, I mean why do you ask?” 

In very Luna fashion, she made no comment about you being flustered, her voice fluttering out like a feather with simple observation, “I only ask because it’s obvious that he likes you very much. It’s quite sweet, really. Are you going to finally tell him that you like him as well?”

You couldn’t help but stare at her dumbfounded. You figured your constant rejections to Mattheo’s advances made it appear to everyone that you did not reciprocate his feelings. That wasn’t actually the case, but you wanted to make him work for it. 

Girls came far too easy for Mattheo, basically throwing themselves at him. It was vomit inducing to you at times, how blatantly obvious they would be and how he essentially cherry-picked whatever girl he was feeling that particular moment. 

You weren’t going to be one of those girls, you absolutely refused it. So when you first noticed Mattheo staring at you at the beginning of the year, you just rolled your eyes anytime they connected to his. 

The first time you did this, his eyebrows shot to the ceiling, not used to this type of response from a woman. When he tried to stop you after class, you quickly shot your hand up before he could even get a word out, “Not interested, Riddle.” 

He was met with a chorus of “ohhhh’s” from his friends, which likely died down quickly due to a glare or threat from the scorned man. He tried again after that…and just about every other day from that first moment you rejected him until this morning. 

You weren’t blind, you knew Mattheo was attractive. Hell, you’ve known since the bloody sorting ceremony in first year. But the way that all of the girls swooned over him, and how he so obviously ate it up, you vowed to never be that girl. 

So for the last six years, you never really paid him any mind. You knew he was there, you knew his reputation, but he never really consumed your thoughts. So when he started staring at you, then starting actually pursuing you, you couldn’t quite understand why your heart would beat faster, or get butterflies in your stomach. 

You had boyfriends throughout your school career, even dating the quidditch captain of your house, but something about Mattheo focusing solely on you like he has made your stomach flutter like no other guy you’d been with. You weren’t even with Mattheo, but him pursuing you essentially deterred any other guy from coming up to you. 

Finishing your hair and makeup, you and Luna joined a few other Ravenclaw’s and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Walking through the portrait hole you would think there was nothing going on, but as soon as you passed through the entryway you broke the silencing charm barrier and was assaulted with the sound of bass and smell of weed. 

You looked over at Luna, who took a deep inhale, “Don’t you just love that earthy smell?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her care-free spirit. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want one?” Luna nodded, telling you she was going to find Blaise and to look for her in the usual spot. 

Heading to the drink table you spotted Enzo who was adorning a Ravenclaw cardigan. You had a little skip in your step, sidling up next to him and grabbing cups for you and Luna, “Well hey there, looking dashing in blue and bronze.” 

He smirked at you, leaning against the table while you got yourself a drink, “Looks like you were sorted into the wrong house. Green definitely suits you.” You turned to him, a drink in each hand, “Thank you, Enzo.” 

He held an arm out, “Shall we? I’m assuming you're not doublefisting tonight and one of those is for Miss Lovegood?” You let out a laugh, nodding and following him to the back corner where his gang of miscreants resided. You both were simply walking next to each other. Your hands were full with both drinks and while he only had one his other hand was flailing around in the air as he recounted aspects of the last Slytherin quidditch game. 

So when you reached the group, you were surprised that Mattheo’s face was set in a scowl. You quirked an eyebrow when he finally met your eyes, which took a moment as his were apparently taking their sweet time scanning your body, his eyes rolled, scoffing slightly and leaning back on the couch. 

You decided to be bold tonight, Luna’s voice from earlier in the back of your head. You greeted the others, then went and sat down next to Mattheo. As soon as your ass hit the chair, Mattheo scooted a few inches away from you. You told yourself not to be hurt by this, but he had essentially been trying to be all over you for the last month and a half. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you turned to face him, one leg now on the couch, causing the jersey you had on the ride higher on your leg. Mattheo’s eyes cast down briefly, seeing more of your skin exposed before meeting your eyes again.

“What are you wearing?” His eye contact was intense, making you squirm a little. “It’s a theme party, I’m wearing Slytherin clothes.” He let out a huff of air through his nose. You narrowed your eyes at him now, asking him again, “What’s your problem?”

He pinched the number that laid just above your left breast, your breath getting caught in your throat with how close his hands were, “You’re wearing Enzo’s jersey.” You couldn’t quite place his tone but it sounded almost like…jealousy? This made you smirk a little and now the wheels in your mind were turning. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “I thought it looked cute.” Your hands caressing the side of your body to the hem of the jersey. You saw his eyes follow your hands as you roamed your body, now focused on where your hands played with the hem, “And it’s so long on me I didn’t even have to wear any panties.” 

You saw the clench in his jaw, and you’d be lying if you said the action didn’t send a searing heat through your body. You started to pull the jersey higher up your legs, just to tease him a little. His hand shot to your wrist, “Stop.” You smirked at him, “What’s wrong, Matty?”

The nickname was something new you were toying with and it seemed to have the effect you were looking for as the grip he had on your wrist tightened. He placed his other hand on your thigh, using it as leverage to lean closer to you. 

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, goosebumps rising along your skin, “It’s gonna be really hard for me to fuck you with Berkshire’s jersey on.” Your cheeks immediately turned red. You turned your head, staring into his eyes, faces so close your noses are nearly brushing against one another. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you feared he could hear it over the bass of the music.

Your facade was failing, quickly. The desperation you were feeling was more extreme than you could control. “Kiss me,” you requested, eyes not leaving the brown ones you were gazing at. He laughs softly, smirk adorning his face as his eyes flicker down to your lips. 

Normally that type of cockiness from him would have you leaving Mattheo there hot and bothered but tonight you found yourself leaning towards him with just as much anticipation. His mouth slotted against yours, he tasted like cigarettes and firewhiskey. You latch onto him, fisting a handful of the hufflepuff cardigan he chose for the party. 

When you finally pull away, lungs burning for air you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. Mattheo’s lips were red and swollen. You look at him with big eyes, silently telling him you wanted more than was possible in the open common room. 

Mattheo glanced around, searching for a solution. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the stairs to the dorms. He led you down a hall, opening the first door he could find and pulling you in behind him. 

Before you could even glance around the room Mattheo had you pressed against the door. His arm circled your waist, sliding down the small of your back before grabbing a handful of your ass, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking at biting at the soft skin there. The action had the most obscene noise leaving your throat.

His grip on your ass tightens, holding you flush against his body as he tucks a knee between your legs. You whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing against your bare clit. He braces himself with his free hand on the door, resting his forehead to yours, “Merlin, I’ve been wanting to make those noises leave that pretty mouth of yours all year.” 

You open your mouth to respond, fully prepped to give a witty retort when he pressed his leg against you again. A whimper leaves your throat this time and Mattheo looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him.

You gripped his forearm, “Matty…please.” You looked up at him through your lashes as his hand dipped under the jersey, fingertips feather light on your skin. “So needy, love. Had to wear someone else’s jersey just to get me riled up, hmm?” His head dips down, lips grazing the sensitive skin where your neck and collarbone meet. 

He bites you lightly, nipping and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving his mark in a place where it’d be hard for you to hide, claiming you as his. You’re basically grinding yourself on his leg now and Mattheo thinks he can cum from the sight of you using him for your own pleasure. 

“So wet, love, can feel you through my trousers,” Mattheo grabs your hips, stilling you against his leg emitting another whine from you. “You gonna be good f’me, love?” he was teasing you now, but that didn’t stop you from nodding pathetically. 

He dragged the material of the jersey over your hips, a gasp releasing itself from your lips as the air hits your bare center. Your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and Mattheo drops to his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder, your hand shooting to his shoulder to brace yourself as his tongue licks a stripe up your dripping cunt. 

A mewl spills from your mouth and you swear you can feel him smirk against you. Without warning he plunges two fingers deep inside you, your back arching off the door and into his touch. His free hand grabs your hip, stabilizing you against the door.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it from his fingers inside you back to your sensitive nub. Your other hand flies to his curls, fingers laced and pulling harshly. This only spurs him further, curling his fingers inside you. They rut against your g-spot, pressure building in your lower belly.

You thank Merlin for the loudness of the party because the sounds Mattheo was getting you to make were sinful. His lips are attached to your clit, mercilessly sucking and licking and humming against the bud. 

Your legs are trembling and Mattheo’s grip on your hip tightens, your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, you can’t even cry out, your mind dizzy with anything but the bliss that Mattheo is giving you between your legs as your tumbling over the edge.

He continues to eat you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he slowly removes his fingers. “Fuck, Matty,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath as he lowers your leg from his shoulder. 

Mattheo stands, mouth attaching to yours immediately. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He trails kisses along your jaw, down your neck then up to your ear, “Now let’s get you out of this fucking jersey.”

[enchanteleclerc]

strawberries and cream 🂱 cs55

genre: 18+, literally pwp, fem!reader who’s the sister of carlos’ best friend?? LMAO

word count: 2.5k

You seem to enjoy the company of your brother’s best friend. Especially right now, over some breakfast of pancakes, thinking you may never look at strawberries and cream the same.

a/n … idk how my last post did pretty well but thank u all for the support !! still learning how to write smut (and write in general bc i never write in uni 💀) this was heavily inspired by that one serena and nate scene i hope u guys know which one i’m talking ab :))

warnings … penetrative sex, semi public sex, dirty talk (degradation and praise), unprotected sex, food, rough ish sex?

-

You don’t remember when it started. The butterflies, the stolen glances across a room. Ever since you could remember, Carlos was always around. But he wasn’t here for you; you had to remind yourself. Your brother’s best friend. And yet, neither of you could deny the tension between you both. The way your fingers brushed when you handed him your plate, offering to wash it for you after dinner, caused you to subconsciously hold your breath. ”Need some help?” Sauntering into the kitchen where Carlos was washing the dishes. You don’t miss how his lips turned into a smile upon seeing you. Picking up the dishes he just washed, you began drying them beside him, taking quick looks at him from the side of your eye but making sure he doesn’t see. Flipping a plate over, you accidentally splash him with water. Your hands immediately went to your mouth to apologise, but you couldn’t help the giggles pouring from you. “Yeah? You think that’s funny?” He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you still while turning the tap towards you, soaking the white oversized shirt you wore. Pleading for mercy, to which he loosened his grip, you retaliated by turning the tap onto him. Stepping through the puddle of water you both caused, he turned off the tap. ”Truce?” He sticks out his pinky for you to shake, which you take happily. Pinkies interlocked, you look up at him, still giggling, but the giggles dissipate when you look into his big brown eyes. His eyes held yours for a moment before travelling down your body to the white shirt that had gone translucent and stuck to your body, leaving almost nothing to imagination apart from your bra and panties. Carlos’ clothes were no better. His grey shirt had darkened and stuck to his torso, revealing the lines and curves of his toned stomach. ”What the fuck?” Your brother’s voice echoed between Carlos and you as if a strike of lightning. You both jumped away from each other but still connected through your pinkies. As if there was an invisible piece of string connecting you both. Clearing your throat and crossing your arms over your chest to hide yourself, you announce that you were heading up for bed, unwilling to let go of Carlos’ hand. You wonder how you could possibly fall asleep knowing that Carlos would be in the room beside yours. The answer to that question was reluctantly. However, you eventually fell asleep to Carlos’ light snores through the thin walls of the house. And the moment the snoring ceased, so did the little sleep you received. Early in the morning, you heard a door open. Well aware of your family’s ability to sleep into the late hours of the morning, you knew whose door that was. You were suddenly wide awake and wanting to run out your door to see him. Needing to regain some dignity after letting him see you basically half-naked yesterday, you decided against leaving your room immediately. After what you believed was enough time, you found yourself walking downstairs into the kitchen, where a figure was rummaging through the fridge. Despite only being able to see his back, you knew who it was, of course. That was a back you caught your eyes lingering on many times. The way his muscles flexed through the thin shirt had you in a trance. “You’re up early.” He returned the milk carton to the fridge before turning around to see you. You simply hummed back because you couldn’t form coherent thoughts when Carlos looked like this. Sleepy eyes looking back at you from the opposite end of the island, slightly obstructed by his hair that was messy and looked somewhat damp from a shower, you assumed. His voice, raspy from the morning, had your knees buckling. You sit on the island's counter to avoid the embarrassment of passing out simply because he spoke. ”Wow. He cooks and cleans. Is there anything you can’t do, Mr Sainz?” Your eyes flitted from the stack of freshly cooked pancakes to Carlos. His eyes unmistakably darkened at your use of “Mr Sainz”, but his head still shook with a low chuckle, placing his hand on your bare thigh. Picking a strawberry out of the bowl of toppings, you lean towards Carlos. He opens his mouth instinctively to accept the sweet fruit out of your hand, keeping his eyes focused on you and the way you bit your lip when the juice of the strawberry leaked from his lips. His eye contact broke only when your hand reached up to wipe the juice dripping down his chin with your thumb, only to place the thumb in your own mouth to suck off the juice. His eyes connect with yours again, and your close proximity is not lost on either of you. Your hand rests on his flushed cheek, the light stubble scratching your hand as his chest rises and falls. Carlos hums before wrapping his hands around your thighs to pull you towards the edge of the counter and moving in between your legs. Your faces were so close you could feel his warm breath from his slightly parted lips. He looked so pretty, like a prince straight out of Disney that you would have obsessed over when you were younger. You could’ve sworn you saw Carlos’ resolve crumble around you as his hands moved from your thighs to your head to catch your lips in a suffocating kiss. Years of sexual tension between you and Carlos finally being resolved had your head spinning in a whirlwind of lips, wandering hands and the taste of strawberries. The sudden action caused a squeal to leave your lips as your body connected with his, warm and hard. The feeling of his body in between your legs with your oversized shirt riding up and his clothed cock hardening for you from every minuscule movement you made, simply to find more friction and provoke him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one arm reaching for his back, feeling the tensing muscles through his thin shirt, the other tugging slightly at the hair on the back of his neck, eliciting a silent moan from his mouth. His lips move from yours to your neck, letting your head fall back, and your legs wrap around his torso. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging slightly before he tugs it over his head, revealing his perfectly toned body, lightly speckled with hair. His lips are on yours again before his hands rest on your hips, inviting you to move them against him. You gasped at the feeling of him right where you needed him, and he used your gasp to delve deeper into your mouth. His fingers grip your hips and pull your shirt up for a better view. The feeling of the cold air and his hands on your overheating body stimulate you beyond belief. You pulled away from the kiss to breathe and look down at the way you slot in perfectly with him. Carlos tilts your head to look at him and lets his thumb rub your swollen and bitten lips. Your lips attach to the skin of his chest, placing light kisses moving down his stomach. “Fuck. Need to feel your lips around me.” he groaned deeply before you pushed yourself off the counter. You find yourself on your knees for him pulling down his grey sweatpants and boxers to reveal his cock spring up. It was intimidating how big he was. If you weren’t so needy, you would’ve made a cliche comment about his size, but there was no need; Carlos already knew. He could tell by your face and subsequently chuckled. Looking up at him through half-lidded eyes while you stroke it, you observe the way his head falls back for a moment from the pleasure before landing back on you, focusing intently on what you’re doing as if he would rather die than miss this. His eyes bore into your own, but not with the chocolate brown colour you know so well. A darker tint of brown has invaded, causing your thighs to clench together. You place the head of his cock in your mouth. The warm feel of it causes an involuntary moan in you that is reciprocated by Carlos. His hand wrapped around your hair, guiding you along his cock and allowing you to take it in full. Caressing it with your tongue, Carlos’ grip on your hair tightened as the muscles in his legs clenched. Carlos has spent so long seeing you flaunt in short skirts and cropped tops around your house. Spent so long watching your long legs as you walked or when you crossed your legs as you sat. Carlos remembers the day he started feeling like this towards you. It was a hot summer day, and he volunteered to drive you and your brother to get ice cream. Seeing the way you lapped up the ice cream as it dripped down your hand and the moan you let out when the cold liquid touched your tongue haunted Carlos’ dreams for weeks. Dreams that resulted in him having to take a long, cold shower. On the drive home from the ice cream parlour, Carlos was silent and painfully hard in his pants as he avoided looking at you in the rearview mirror unless they wanted to completely drive off the road. Carlos couldn’t believe this wasn’t one of his many dreams. You were real and kneeling before him, letting him fuck your pretty little throat. Your cheeks hollowed and wrapped around him tightly before pulling it out and letting your tongue swirl around the tip, catching all the pre cum. Carlos’ small groans start speeding up, as does your mouth on his cock, but he pulls you away using your hair. ”Need to be inside you.” His hands find their way around your thighs again to lift you up and place you back onto the edge of the counter, ripping your panties off and discarding them somewhere in the kitchen. Dipping his finger in the bowl of whipped cream left for forgotten pancakes, he draws a line on the inside of your thigh, stopping before the apex and letting you suck the whipped cream off his finger. Your back connected with the cool surface of the kitchen island, unable to take this amount of pleasure as Carlos dropped his head between your thighs and began lapping up the whipped cream. The frustrated groan you released when Carlos’ tongue stopped before he reached your heat was disrupted when you felt him drag the tip of his cock up and down your needy folds with ease from how slick you were. Your hips rutted towards his, needing him inside you or at least some friction. Finally, he began pushing, feeding his cock into you. Your eyes clenched closed at the overwhelming pressure you felt. No other boy had stretched you out like this, but none of them were Carlos Sainz. The shared moan that left both your mouths once he bottomed out inside you was intoxicating. You shiver momentarily at the loss when he pulls out of you, but all was forgotten as he slams back into you again He was everywhere— around you, inside you. So overwhelmingly good you understood why you waited so long for this. ”Faster, please” Carlos’ grip on your hips tightened, hearing you begging for him, happily speeding up his pace, hearing your little whimpers from every movement. His hand reaches up to grab your tits, kneading and flicking your nipple to perfection. Carlos had to restrain himself from cumming when he saw how sensitive your nipples were and how you responded to him. ”Fuck you’re perfect. This pretty cunt— so wet. all this for me?” His hand left your tits to attack your clit, rubbing in small circles that had you throwing your head back in pleasure. “Answer me.” He ceased his movements on your clit and began thrusting agonisingly slow. You tried moving your hips to find some friction, but his hands pressed your hips into the counter to stop you from moving. ”Fuck Carlos. It’s all for you. It’s always been you.” Carlos sped up once more. Faster than before. Faster than you thought was humanly possible. The sound of an alarm clock upstairs caught you off guard, the thought of someone— let alone your brother finding you like this. Fucking his best friend. And yet, the tightening feeling in your core didn’t disappear but got stronger. ”Please, can I cum?” He slows down, staving off your orgasm. Unable to move your own hips, Carlos set the pace, and apparently, Carlos did not care that someone could walk downstairs at any moment. He wanted to relish in this moment. The feeling of you beneath him and begging for release. He wanted this image to be ingrained into his memory for the rest of his life. “Cum for me, cariño.” Your legs shaking and releasing a moan that was much too loud for comfort, your orgasm hit you at full force. His hand slammed over your mouth to prevent anyone from hearing, although Carlos would love for the whole neighbourhood to hear you scream his name. His thrusts didn’t cease through your orgasm. Instead, they sped up. Twitching inside of you, he asks where you want it. ”Inside me, please. Fill me up.” Mumbling behind Carlos’ hand that was still firmly over your mouth and was now covered in your spit. Without warning, you felt it. Like a warm flood within you, pushed around by Carlos’ slow thrusts. His cum trickled down your thigh when he pulled out, and you both stood there in silence, listening to each other’s heavy breathing. Footsteps walking down the stairs sprung you both into action, however. Wide eyed for a moment before frantically adjusting your shirt back on and Carlos pulling up his sweatpants with no time for his shirt. ”Morning.” Your brother rubbed his eyes as you and Carlos stood behind the island. No panties on you. No shirt on Carlos. Both were discarded somewhere in the kitchen and soon to be found by your brother. “What are you guys doing? Where’s your shirt, mate?” Your brother’s eyes went between Carlos and you as you pretended to just notice that Carlos had no shirt on. ”Oh, pancakes. You want some?” Your brother offering you as if he was the one that made it. You shook your head before seeing the way your brother loaded his pancakes up with strawberries and whipped cream. You had to bite your lip to hold in a laugh as Carlos’ cheeks flushed. Walking behind your brother, you find your panties and Carlos’ shirt, sending him a wink before walking back upstairs with the clothing items in hand. Leaving Carlos to deal with your brother and the pancakes that were now cold.

-

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ photograph ] j. drysdale

paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) decides to fly out to Philly for Valentine’s Day after watching Jamie say in an interview that he’ll probably be spending the day alone

warning(s) : just some tooth rotting fluff with no angst for once, a heavy makeout

author’s note : this is just a (not so) lil fluff filled thing bc i wanted to write something for belated valentine’s day. sorry or you’re welcome (idk)

༺═──────────────═༻

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually have any plans tomorrow,” he explains to a reporter through the screen on her phone. “Everyone I know here does have plans and everyone else I know is across the country so I’ll most likely spend the day putting together furniture in my new apartment.”

That was the moment she decided that she was getting on the first flight she possibly could to Philly so Jamie didn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone. No one should have to spend the day alone. She doesn’t have any plans and she’s off from work for about two weeks because they’re doing renovations so a little trip to Philadelphia doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Last year he spent the day with Trevor on the couch and watched movies in their shared apartment. This year, he is in Philly and Trevor actually has a girlfriend. Not very ideal for Jamie.

She isn’t Jamie’s girlfriend, but she is one of his best friends and could never let him be alone on Valentine’s Day. Especially not after hearing what his actual plans are for tomorrow. She’s going to at least help him put furniture together in his apartment.

A flight out of LAX is scheduled for 10 that night. It’s six so she has about two hours to pack for a week long trip to Philly. She even buys a ticket for Saturday’s game at MetLife since she wants to see Jamie play a game while she’s in Philly.

By eight, she’s out the door with a suitcase that’s packed full of clothes and non-liquid toiletries. The jersey Jamie sent her about a week after the trade is neatly folded with the rest of her clothes. She orders an Uber to drive her to the airport.

While in the Uber, she debates texting Jamie and telling him that she’ll be at his new apartment early tomorrow morning since she’ll be landing a little before six in the morning. It’ll probably take about 45 minutes after she lands before she’s on Jamie’s doorstep.

Maybe a surprise wouldn’t be the worst thing so she puts her phone away until she has to pull out her plane ticket.

Getting on the plane takes an hour between getting past TSA and buying snacks for the nearly five hour flight. She boards the plane twenty minutes before it takes off so she has time to get comfortable.

She’s asleep before the plane even leaves the ground.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

All the snacks she bought before the flight are going to be the snacks she eats while she’s in Philly because she slept for the entire flight. It didn’t feel like she slept for 5 hours but she did.

By six, she’s at baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase. She orders an Uber to Voorhees while she waits for her things. The car is waiting for her when she get outside.

It’s a lot colder out than she thought it was going to be. All she has on is a Ducks hoodie that Jamie gave to her the year before and a pair of leggings with Uggs on her feet. Her feet are warm. The rest of her is not. She shakes as she puts her things in the trunk of the car.

She gives the driver Jamie’s new address and she’s off to surprise her best friend.

The closer she gets to Jamie’s, the more nervous she gets. What if he found someone after moving to the Philly area? What if the whole putting furniture together comment was a lie so he didn’t announce to the entire world he was in a relationship? What if he doesn’t want her there in general?

Maybe a spontaneous trip across the country without at least letting Jamie know she was coming wasn’t the best idea she’s ever had.

A call comes through from Trevor. Confused, she answers the phone. “Good morning?”

“Are you in Philly?” he asks.

“Maybe,” she slowly replies as she watches the Philly skyline pass. “Why? It’s like three in the morning.”

“Not for you apparently,” he retorts. “I looked to see where you were because Mason said you weren’t replying to his texts so I wanted to make sure you were okay and I see that you flew across the country.”

She smiles and shakes her head. The way Trevor would find out she’s in Philly is by checking her location. He and Jamie are the only ones that have her location because she’s closest with them.

“Just wanted to surprise Jamie,” she tells Trevor. “That’s all. Tell Mason I’ll call him later because I’m about ten minutes away from Jamie’s apartment.”

“You gonna tell him you love him?” Trevor questions. She opens her mouth to object but he keeps talking. “It’s so freaking obvious so don’t even lie to me.”

A nervous laugh passes her lips. “We’ll see,” she replies. “I’ll talk to you later, Z.”

“Tell me how he’s really doing,” he tells her. “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Will do,” she says as the driver pulls up to Jamie’s place. “Talk soon.”

The line goes dead and she looks out the window at the apartment building. Jamie’s somewhere in there asleep and she’s about two minutes away from calling him to come let her into the building.

She gets her things out of the trunk and thanks the driver before he drives off to pick someone else up. She sighs and pulls up Jamie’s contact.

When she presses the ‘call’ button, it rings about four times before Jamie answers. The entire time, her hands are shaking and she isn’t sure if it’s because of the cold or if she’s nervous to see Jamie for the first time since the trade.

“It’s like four in the morning,” he croaks when he picks up. “Are you okay?”

She smiles at the sound of his morning voice. “Actually it’s almost seven in the morning and I’m currently freezing my ass off outside your apartment building so if you could come let me in, that would be great,” she says.

It sounds like Jamie falls out of bed when she says that she’s outside of the building. If he broke anything then she’s going to have to explain to Torts why Jamie will be out for six weeks.

He isn’t holding any body parts when he swings the door open and blankly stares at her from the top of the steps of the building. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to decide if he’s still dreaming or if he’s awake. She waves and a barefoot Jamie runs down the stairs to hug her.

A laugh passes her lips and she wraps her arms around his torso. “You’re actually here,” he says against her ear. “I thought you were lying to me.”

“Nope,” she replies. “I’m here. I didn’t have anything else to do so I thought I’d come surprise you. Help you put together some furniture for Valentine’s Day.”

Jamie pulls back from the hug just enough to look at her. “You saw that interview?” he asks.

With a nod and a smile, she replies, “It sounded like a very boring way to spend Valentine’s Day so I thought I’d come keep you company. Maybe watch you play at the outdoor game this weekend. I have another week off from work and spending it in the Philly area with my best friend didn’t sound like the worst idea.”

“You are actually insane for buying a plane ticket without knowing if I’d be here or not,” he tells her. “I could’ve left for Toronto before you got here since we play them tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know how your travel schedule works,” she retorts. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

He shakes his head and grabs her suitcase. “You have some of the best timing because I took a maintenance day today so I have a day off from practice, but I leave tomorrow morning for Toronto,” he says to her as they walk into the building together.

“Listen, I’m spending a week in the area,” she replies. “I get to watch you play at the outdoor game on Saturday when I wasn’t planning on being on the east coast at all. If you’re gone for a day or two then it’s fine.”

The smile that forms on Jamie’s face makes her heart do somersaults in her stomach.

She can tell how excited he is that she decided to visit him. She knows how much he has been missing Anaheim so she brought Anaheim to him for a week.

When Jamie opens the door to the apartment, she is very surprised by how decorated it is and how much of the stuff he had in his Anaheim apartment has made its way to this one. It still needs some work done, but that is why she’s here. She’s here to help him finish putting it all together.

“I need to build some shelves,” Jamie tells her. “And put together the guest bedroom. The frame still needs to be built for the guest bed too. This is what my plans were for the day.”

She turns her head to look at him as he closes the door behind them. “So it wasn’t come ruse so you didn’t have to admit to the world that you had a secret girlfriend?” she questions.

If she should expect Jamie to have a girl over then she might as well get the girlfriend question out of the way early on in her visit.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “No secret girlfriend. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had any time to find a girlfriend. Yorky has tried but he’s not the best wingman.”

She can’t help but laugh. Jamie smiles and rolls her suitcase to the unfinished bedroom.

She decides to make some coffee for the two of them so they can get started on the day’s plans. They have to put together the guest room and build some shelves. It can’t be very hard to do either of those things. Right?

Wrong.

It turns out that Jamie can’t follow simple instructions to save his life. She has had to refrain from throwing whatever is in her hand at him so many times because he can’t read a piece of paper.

“Jamie, what am I supposed to do with this screw?” she asks as she holds up an extra screw. “Do I have to put it in your head so you can use your brain or something? You missing one in there? Do I need to get Trevor on the first flight out of LAX to come help you figure out how to read the instructions?”

Jamie looks up from his spot on the floor and throws the instructions at her. “Here, you try to read this and tell me if it makes any sense,” he retorts. “It’s all confusing. My parents helped me build shelves when they came to visit a few weeks ago. I didn’t have to do this. Maybe it’s just an extra.”

She grabs the pamphlet and reads the directions. The screw was supposed to be put in when putting the shelves in place. A shelf is missing a screw.

“You dumbass,” she says. “It’s not an extra screw. It was supposed to be put in on the bottom shelf to make sure it is secure and even. You now have an unsecure shelf in your guest room.”

Jamie flattens out on his back on the carpeted floor with a groan. “This is why I’m a hockey player and don’t work in home improvement,” he says as he rubs his eyes. She laughs and tries to keep her eyes on his face instead of on the sliver of skin that peeks out between what is a new Flyers t-shirt and pajama pants. “This is so dumb. I am not about to take that whole thing apart to put one screw in.”

She walks over and slaps the pamphlet on his stomach. He gasps and sits up with the paper in his hands. “Then get it together, Drysdale,” she tells him. “We have a bed frame to build.”

“Fuck the bed frame,” he sighs as she grabs the box in the corner and drags it into the center of the room. “You don’t need a bed to sleep in tonight.”

With a light laugh, she teases, “If we don’t get it set up then I’m gonna be sleeping in your bed until we get it put together.”

Jamie mutters something that sounds like “would be okay with me” but she pretends she doesn’t hear it. She can’t hear it or else she will just say “fuck it” and sleep in Jamie’s bed the entire time she’s here instead of putting the bed together.

The mattress is sitting up against the wall next to where the box with the bed frame was. He has everything he needs to put this bed together and he hasn’t done it yet. Not even over the All Star break when he had a few days off before going to Mexico with the Flyers.

Putting the bed together takes less time and a lot less arguing back and forth. Within an hour, the mattress is on top of the bed frame. Five-foot-eleven 185 pound Jamie flops on the mattress to make sure it’s secure and won’t fall apart if someone were to jump on it.

They do not need to have another shelf problem with the bed that she will most likely be sleeping on while she’s in the area. If it is like the shelf and it’s not safe to sleep on then the couch is in the living room for a reason.

The two of them stand in the doorway and look at their work when they decide the bed is secure. “We make an amazing team,” she comments. “Aside from the shelf.”

Jamie groans and walks down the hallway to his own room. “Shelves are stupid anyway,” he replies. “Who is actually going to use them in this room aside from me just putting a handful of books and pictures on them?” She laughs and goes to unpack her stuff now that it’s safe to do so without stepping on wood, metal or a screw on the floor.

The Flyers jersey that he sent her gets hung up in the closet along with her shirts, hoodies, and nicer pants. She’ll pull bras, panties, and socks out of the suitcase as needed. The beanie she brought to wear on Saturday is put on the bedside table.

Then she pulls out the gift that she brought for Jamie. It isn’t much but she’s hoping that it means as much to him as it does to her. The pictures she brought were taken at such important moments in Jamie’s career and she hopes that he doesn’t mind having a few pictures of his best friend around the apartment.

She walks down to Jamie’s bedroom and knocks gently on the door. There are footsteps behind it before the door swings open. “I, um, had these printed and framed in case I ever came to visit you,” she tells him as she holds out the three picture frames. “Thought you might need some décor.”

Jamie looks down at the pictures and shifts through them.

One of them was taken on Jamie’s Draft Day. He has on a Ducks jersey and she has on his Ducks hat. He looks so happy. He has an arm around her shoulders while he holds up six fingers and is smiling at the camera. She has a smile on his face and is looking up at him with a proud look on her face. Messy ponytail and all.

The second one was taken the day Jamie made his NHL debut and scored his first goal. It’s a selfie she took of her, Jamie, and Trevor at dinner that same night. They’re both holding their pucks because they went right from the arena to a restaurant to eat.

The third one was taken during the 2021 World Juniors tournament where Canada placed second. She’s putting the silver medal back around his neck after he had given it to her. “Silver just means you lost” is what he had said to her a moment before this was captured. She had told him that she was a winner to him and put the medal back around his neck. There is heavy eye contact between the two of them in their matching jerseys.

It was as the third picture was being taken she realized that she loved Jamie. The first two pictures, she knew she had feelings for him, but the third was when she realized that she wanted to be there for him as more than just a friend.

“I had no idea you had any of these,” he says after he’s done looking through them. Jamie looks up at her. “All at different points of my career.”

“Been with you since day one,” she replies with a smile on her face. “You didn’t think that I wouldn’t be here with you while you succeed in a whole new city, did you?”

Jamie laughs and shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he tells her. “You always make sure you’re a presence in my life.” He pauses and looks right at her. “It’s one of the things I love most about having you in my life.”

She could almost cry when he says that.

There have been so many times over the years where she thought she was annoying or that he wanted her out of his life. She followed him to California when he started playing with the Gulls then the Ducks. He asked her to come with him, but she thought for months it was out of pity.

He has erased years of insecurity with one comment.

“Thanks for keeping me in your life,” she replies after a brief moment of silence.

“You’re like Trevor,” he teases. “You’re always around. It would be hard for me to get rid of you.”

She smiles up at him. “Except he would never fly across the country to see you,” she retorts. “Especially without at least telling you he was coming to see you.”

Jamie laughs. “No, he wouldn’t.”

They look at each other for a second before he walks past her. He has the picture frames in his hand as he walks into the living room. She follows him even though she is confused with what he’s doing.

He puts the picture of himself, Trevor, and (Y/N) on the coffee table under the lamp next to the couch. It’s the most public place in the entire place so it makes sense that that’s the picture that is put in the living room.

The picture of the two of them on Draft Day goes on a little table that leads to the hallway with both bedrooms and bathrooms. The table is under a little mirror that’s been hung up. A little less public but it also joins the other pictures that were taken that day. It looks like it belongs.

Jamie glances at her and walks back into his bedroom. She follows right behind him and stands in the doorway of his room. Her eyes are on the picture of the two of them at the 2021 World Juniors as it’s placed on Jamie’s bedside table.

“This one means the most to me so it deserves a little more privacy than the others,” Jamie tells her without a look in her direction. “You were there for me and picked me up when I was down. I didn’t want anyone else there but you. You were the one that convinced me silver was okay. The team worked hard to get to that moment. The medal was very well deserved because we did everything we could to make it to that game. I did everything I could to get the team to that game. We just came up a little bit short.”

She pouts and walks further into the room. He finally looks over at her. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” she softly says to him. “I didn’t know that I was the person that convinced you it was okay to wear silver around your neck.”

“I needed silver because my gold medal was you,” Jamie shakily admits. His voice is soft. “You’re my gold medal.”

His words have her speechless. Her jaw drops in surprise. She has no idea why he’s saying this to her now.

He reaches out to her and brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She takes a step forward and feels her heart race in her chest as she looks up at him. Her body shakes as she realizes that their relationship is changing.

A line that she never expected to cross is about to be crossed. She can see it in Jamie’s eyes as they examine her face, landing on her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods because she doesn’t trust herself to speak. She is afraid that she’s going to admit how long she’s been in love with him if she says a single words.

So she nods, and Jamie leans down to capture her lips in a soft, hesitant kiss. He’s testing the waters to see if she’ll push him away.

She’ll never push him away.

Not when she finally has him like this. Not when she finally knows what it feels like to kiss Jamie Drysdale.

When she feels him begin to pull away, she wraps her arms around his neck and leans more into him to deepen the kiss instead of Jamie breaking it. Her fingers find a home in his hair.

She is scared he will regret it if the kiss breaks, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to see that look. It might break her if he looks at her like that if the kiss breaks.

Jamie cups her cheek and brushes his thumbs over her cheekbone. She melts against him with a sigh.

“(Y/N),” he mumbles after a second. “I need to breathe.”

That’s when she lets him pull away. The sight of his red, swollen lips and unruly hair is almost too much for her. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and something overcomes her.

“I love you,” she tells him. “I’ve loved you since that was taken.” She points in the direction of the picture on his bedside table. “It’s always been you, Jamie. That’s why I flew across the country on Valentine’s Day. I wanted to be with you today because I miss you and I love you.”

Jamie smiles and brushes his thumb over her own lips that are as red and swollen as his are. “I love you too,” he says. “I think I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at my first NHL game in my jersey. I’m very happy you came to the east coast to watch me play in the Stadium Series game this weekend. I was going to probably fly you out anyway.”

She laughs and shakes her head before burying her face in his chest. They’ve been in love with each other for years and are only now saying something about it after Jamie was traded to Philly and she’s stuck in Anaheim for right now.

“Only took me bringing you pictures to finally kiss me,” she teases.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up and come here.”

Their lips meet in a heated kiss. Everything they’ve been feeling is coming out in the kiss. Jamie tugs her until she is sitting on his lap while he’s sitting on the mattress. She drapes her arms over his shoulders.

It’s that moment when she realizes they put together a whole bed for no reason because there is now no way she is getting in that bed now.

She pushes him down until Jamie is lying flat on his back and their chests are flush against each other. Her hair creates a curtain around their faces despite his fingers curling in her locks.

“Wait, hold on,” Jamie says. She pulls back from the kiss. “Have something to ask you before we get distracted.”

“Hm?”

“Will you come to family skate on Friday before the game at MetLife?” he asks. “As my girlfriend?”

The biggest smile forms on her lips. “You’re going to have to give me skating lessons because despite watching you play hockey for years, I have no idea how to skate,” she tells him.

“I will give you skating lessons,” Jamie laughs. “You’ll come though?”

She nods and kisses him. “I’ll come.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers, and 193,872 others

yourusername life recently w my 🤍

view all 15,982 comments

fan1 JAMIE HAS A GIRLFRIEND ????

masonmctavish23 ig i forgive you for not answering my texts last week

yourusername we can hang out when i get back into cali on wednesday

masonmctavish23 good. i’m mad that jamie stole you from us

fan2 oh my god. this is so cute

fan3 you were at metlife ??? i think i walked past you at one point

yourusername i had on the drysdale jersey

trevorzegras oh this is all i’m gonna hear about when she gets back

leocarlssoon it’s about time. i was praying this would happen bc the way jamie talked about you was insane

jamie.drysdale let me live !!

philadelphiaflyers Thanks for coming out

jamie.drysdale skating w my girlfriend for the first time was the best feeling 🩵

yourusername being your girlfriend is the best feeling

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[breadbrobin]

“in every other universe”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: luke said he’d love you in every other universe. luke was many things, but he wasn’t a liar.

warnings: ANGST, kissing, mentions of canon typical violence, use of pet names, so much angst bro omg

word count: 1.0k

(i wrote this AGES ago like around episode three so don’t come at me for it being a lil different to how he acts in the finale ok i did my best and i didn’t wanna change too much bc i love it)

—————————————

“do you think we’re together in every universe?”

it was a quiet question. one that luke’s ears could barely pick up through the murmurs of the hermes cabin and the whistling of the wind outside. your breath was right against his cheek though, and your whispered question carried to him.

he frowned. “what do you mean?”

“like,” he could hear you shifting to face him, and he looked over at you, seeing the outline of your features in the dark. “in every other universe where we exist—as whatever we exist as—do you think we met? became friends? then fell in love too?”

he was quiet for a moment, turning his head back to look up at the bunk above him. “yeah. i think we find each other in every universe. i don’t think even the fabric of time and space itself could tear us apart.”

he could hear your soft giggle through the night. “really?”

“really.” he rolled to face you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “not even the gods could tear us apart, baby. not the gods, not the universe itself, nothing.”

he punctuated his words with soft kisses, only stopping when you smiled and yawned tiredly.

“i love you,” you whispered, shifting closer and tucking your head under his chin.

he kissed your hair, warmth growing in his chest as it always did around you, especially on nights where you’d sneak into his bunk to fall asleep together, limbs tangled, hair messy, sleep in your eyes. “i love you too.” his voice was a whisper, barely audible. he said it like a prayer, a reverent statement that made you feel like the most loved person in the universe—in any universe. you wondered if all of your other iterations loved him like you did. if all of your other versions of yourself were as deeply, irrevocably in love with this boy who had you wrapped in his arms and wrapped around his fingers. you didn’t used to believe in fate and destiny. luke helped you see that he was yours.

in every other universe, you thought bitterly. i hope every other universe is happier than this.

luke had left. he was gone. long gone.

he’d came to see you, begging you on your knees to join him, to leave with him.

“please, my love, he can give us whatever we want. we can live forever, immortal in this new world that he will build us!” his eyes had been frantic, pleading… broken.

you had gotten to his level, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks softly. “luke…”

“baby, he will give us anything,” he’d begged. “anything. just come with me.”

you had shaken your head, kissed his lips one last time. your own were salty with tears. “he’s poisoned your mind, luke.”

“the gods have poisoned your mind,” he sneered. “they are responsible for everything. all the pain, all the unclaimed kids, this—“ he jabbed a finger at the scar on his face. “—and all the death that came with it.”

“and you think titans will be better? luke, don’t do this.”

“it’s already done,” he said, his voice stronger. “come with me. together in every universe. this will be the only one that matters anymore, baby. come with me.”

“no.” that was all you’d had to say.

his face crumbled. bitterness and regret filled his eyes, and for a second, you thought he might change his mind. you thought he might stay with you.

you were wrong.

he’d stood up, looking down at you with eyes colder than you’d ever seen. you’d always known luke could be volatile. he was too controlled sometimes, when he shouldn’t be, like he was always holding something back. his sword-fighting was too restrained, and yet too good. there was a balance there that was impossible to achieve unless you’d seen both sides—weak and strong, powerless and entirely powerful. you understood now what that was. you’d never been scared of him before.

he towered over you. “fine. you’ve made your choice. don’t come crying to us when you change your mind.”

the way he said ‘us’ sent a shiver down your spine. you felt nauseous as you kneeled there in front of him, not even feeling strong enough to stand up.

“i love you,” you whispered as he drew his sword.

he faltered for a moment, then his jaw clenched. “if you really loved me, you wouldn’t be betraying me like this.”

as the hilt of his sword hit your temple, memories flashed through your head—of sharing strawberries and kissing under trees, of skipping stones on the shore and sneaking into each others bunks when you couldn’t sleep. years of friendship, then love… all destroyed with the hit of a blade’s hilt. you wondered, who was really the traitor here? it didn’t feel like you.

when you’d woken up, you were in the infirmary. chiron was just outside with the new kid, percy jackson. annabeth was sitting beside you, holding your hand, tears in her eyes.

when she saw you were awake, she squeezed your hand and helped you sit up.

“he’s gone?” you asked weakly.

she nodded, her eyes filling with bitter tears again. “yeah. he… he attacked percy too. while everyone was celebrating. he…” she trailed off and shook her head. “he betrayed all of us. i should have seen it coming. i should have…”

you shook your head. how could he be so cruel? how could you not have noticed? it wasn’t annabeth’s job to—it wasn’t yours either, sure, but you’d seen the signs months ago. you should have seen how things would end. you should have done something sooner. you should have, you should have, you should have.

out loud, you said nothing, just opened your arms for annabeth to fall into. you both needed someone, but the person you both needed was nowhere to be found.

it wasn’t fair.

you didn’t know what was coming next, but you knew that luke’s soul was intertwined with yours, in whatever way it ended up being. he’d said once that you were his anchor, his reason to live after his failed quest… so why couldn’t you be his reason to stay? why couldn’t he have loved you more, loved you like he said he didn’t in every other universe, and stayed?

why, why, why? you feared you would find yourself asking that question until the day you died.

[tmwcs]

Bad Boy

Warnings: reader experiences sexual harassment/potential assault from an unnamed ex-bc, rough smut, smut with a stranger, implied creampie, breeding kink…

Who is the bad boy? 😏

She’s a good girl, crazy about Elvis. Loves horses, and her boyfriend too…

I’m a bad boy…for breaking her heart.

Tonight was the night when the major football game took place. It was a make it or break it moment for your college football team as the game would dictate and highlight the most select players to be drafted for professional football. You and your friends joined up and gathered around the best set of bleachers. You had to. Your boyfriend was the team's quarterback and you had to be in the front row to cheer him on.

Things had been edgy between you two. The ongoing arguments were likely a result of the stress of tonight’s game and finals combined. It was more arduous for him, as he was in his final year of college, whereas you had just barely begun. Still, the hardship of maintaining a relationship and your grades wasn’t easy, regardless that you were a newbie to campus.

The score was close, yet in the end, your boyfriends team emerged victorious and earned their way towards a bright future.

He drives you back to your dorm, where both your friends would meet up for some drinks, or so you thought.

“Let’s hang tight and have some one-on -one time after everyone leaves.” He tells you. You felt a bit uneasy, considering he was giving you that look when you both had barely spoken to each other.

Left alone with him on the bleachers, you started the conversation, trying to establish closure.

“Look, I’m sorry about the fights. I know we haven’t really spoken much, and only made up yesterday but I want you to know I am very proud of you.”

He looks over but doesn’t make any effort to converse back, instead he hums a hollow tune as he begins to pull the sleeves of your dress downward. “Wait! What are you—“

He doesn’t even make eye contact, instead he becomes rather forceful in all the wrong ways. “Come on you like it when I’m rough.”

You used to…

Back before the arguments, you used to dig the idea of your boyfriend tossing you around and going all in like a Viking while you took it. But this time was different, you didn’t really feel that strongly for him anymore. It was something you wanted to refrain from bringing up until later, but now seemed to be the time to let him know that…

“I think we should break up…”

“What?”

“I…I know about what you did with…with her.”

Yeah. Maintaining a relationship is hard when you’re studying and trying to earn top grades. But it’s a lot harder when rumors of your boyfriend's infidelity becomes a popularized topic among your peers. To make the wound deep was that it was with your best friend that he was conducting the affair with. Last night, you saw the photos on her phone after she passed out, and as angry as you were, you didn’t have the heart to force any type of drama until after the big game.

“Okay…so I slept with her a few times. But I promise it was only during your periods.”

You shot a scorned look. “I saw the dates in the pictures.” Hinting at the timeline not meeting up, he sighed as he continued while you did your best to shove him off.

“Stop…I said stop!”

You began shouting when suddenly, a popping sensation stung your cheek. You were shocked as you realized he had just slapped you, but it didn’t become reality until the tangy taste of blood dripped from your lip.

He pushes you down and takes advantage of your short floral dress, and positions himself in between your legs as he rushes to undo his belt. You yell out and flare a series of kicks as you try to get away, yet he overpowers your attempts as he pins his weight down on your body. Plastering the sides of your face with his kisses, you shove and sneered away as you continued with your attempts, though it was all futile. Exhaustion begins to take over and you sense the horrifying loss as you feel the tip of his member poking your inner thigh as he tears your panties.

Suddenly…

“What the—“

The weight of his frame is lifted so abruptly off you as you face forward and gain a clear vision of what was going on.

“Get the fuck ou—“

The sound of your boyfriend's voice is halted still and shut as you hear the audio smack of knuckle meeting his jaw, or perhaps it was his cheek. It happened so fast that you couldn’t make out the difference, all you know was that you saw the one that conducted the deed.

Flinging him off as if your boyfriend was a ragdoll, you watched as the strong arms of your savior become tender as he leans forward and kneels, presenting you a hand. He doesn’t say a word, instead he nods as he implies for you to take it. He pulls you back up on your own two feet, and rushes you under his arm while he takes you back to his car nearby. The slight bit of cigarette smoke and the musk of his cologne mixed together impaled your nostrils as he opened the door and tucks you in the front passenger seat.

You recognized him. He was in the same year as your boyfriend…or former boyfriend actually. He was somewhat of an outcast, not one that you ever really conversed with though you normally spotted him hanging out at the bleachers smoking and joking with his equally delinquent friends. Dressed in jeans, a fitted tee with a flannel over shirt left unbuttoned, it was obvious that he wasn’t dressing to impress anyone.

He starts the old steel vehicle and drives off. Once he hit the main road, he finally spoke.

“Where’s your dorm? I’ll take you there.”

You shook your head as you started to sob once more, only quietly this time. Fingering the shredded tatters of your dress, you hang your head low as the silky strands drape over, hiding your face. “Please…just take me to the airport. I can’t be here….everyone is at my dorm and I don’t want to see anyone…I just want to go back to my home.”

He doesn’t say a word. The sound of the steering wheel turning left, then right, was all the noise that filled the entire car ride until finally he puts it in park.

He really took you to the airport?

“Come on.” He sighs as he hops out and opens the door for you.

“This…where are we?”

“We’re in my frat home.”

“F-frat? You’re a part of a fraternity?” Your surprised tone causes him to smirk as he walks you to the front door. “Yeah, I know.” He nods, already aware of the presumptive appeal that is otherwise an irony. “I’m a bad boy, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

You’re not sure what made you even more confused, the fact that the college delinquent belonged to a frat or that he actually earned decent grades and was a promising student.

He walks you to his room quietly as he fixes the bed. “You sleep here.” Grabbing onto a spare comforter, he makes his own little nest on the small loveseat on the opposite end. You felt so humbled at the fact that the man was willing to lend you his bed while he prepared to sleep on such a small couch, considering his height and stature.

“Thank you…but I really don’t want to inconvenience you. I feel a lot better now, I think I should leave you alone. I don’t want to be trouble and get you involved—“

“I want to be involved.” His tone was deep and somewhat hoarse as he smiles, switching his gaze down to the floor before making their way back to you. “I’ve been wanting to get involved ever since I first saw you at the bleachers…when you came for orientation.”

His confession made your heart melt as you raised your eyebrows with peak interest. “Y-you did?”

He nods. It never occurred to you that you would catch the eye of a delinquent, just like you never realized that closeup, the man was actually quite handsome.

His lengthy strands delicately framed his brows as he steps closer.

“I…” he begins before taking a slight pause. “I can turn your night around…and do it the right way, unlike that scumbag.” He proposes.

At any other given time, you’re quite sure you would have rejected, regardless how dashing he may have appeared. But with the way he came to your aid and was presenting you the opportunity to consent, your heart faltered. “…show me.” You whispered.

He softly rubs your cheek as he swipes the dried blood from your lip. “It’s going to hurt…and I’m going to fuck you hard…remember, I’m a bad boy. There are no…safe…words…y/n.”

He knew your name.

You felt the tingle ringing in between your legs as he outlined the aggression of his passion and proposal. To hell with soft sex anyhow, you wanted it.

“Please…show me. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. Just turn this night around.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

He pulls you in as his strong hands colored your entire body. Finishing what that bastard tried to do earlier, the man before you was a true man as he tore off your dress, but never lost the velocity of his tenderness and passion.

He sucks on your neck as he takes a fistful of your hair and aggressively pulls your head back, only to balance the moment out with him tenderly licking the bite wound. Reaching down, he inserts two of his fingers. They were cold and sharp with the way he injects them, yet immediately warmed up as your walls soothed the shocking temperature and created a beautiful sensation. His coarseness with your silky flesh, mending together as he thrusts his hooks in and out, starting off slow and steady, gradually increasing in tempo.

“Oh….oh my God!….”

“Tell me how good it feels baby…” he whispers as he nibbles on your lobe.

“Mmmph!” You bite down on your lip as you hang on by the clinging grip of his muscular biceps. Lifting your leg, you hook it around his waist as you yearn for more, in which he gladly obliged.

He looped his free hand under your kneecap and propelled you up and back as he slams your body on the bed. He coats your entire body with kisses as his fingers continue to thrive in and out of your womanhood. Finally, he releases his internal hold on you and presents his flick digits to your lips. You took the hint and licked the glistening coating off, until he shoved them into your mouth altogether, inheriting a whole new line of moans from your throat.

The sound of his jeans coming undone slightly echoed as he buries his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin while he tells you how beautiful and delectable you appear underneath him. With the tip of his nose pressed against your cheek, and his lips plastered against yours, he smiles. The stretch of his grin could be felt against your cherry stained pout, igniting a gasp as you felt yourself gush in front of him.

He takes the bold tip of his cock and slowly slides it in. “Ah! Y-you’re too big!”

“Fuck yeah I am.” He whispers rather ferociously as he continues to go in deeper…and deeper.

“I told you…I’m a bad boy…a big…bad…boy.” He grunts in between his words as he presses forward, burying his thunderous rod deep into your walls.

He settled once he was all the way in. “Ready to get fucked girly?”

You eagerly nod as you catch your breath, or try to. The moment he garnished your final consent of the evening, you were down for.

He draws out his length, slowly. As soon as you feel he is about to fully exit, he rams it all back in. Each of his inches swarms back into the cavity, but it didn’t stop there. Pumping it vigorously, he maintains a solid pace as he reaches further and deeper into you. What was this feeling? This sensation? It was mind blowing. Compared to all the instances when you engaged in sexual contact with your ex, none of them had ever amounted to the rage this man was taking out on you. He was massive, rough, hard, but also soft and tender. He was both black and white, your Heaven and Hell. He was…he was….

“I-I…I can’t breathe! Oh God! Please don’t stop fucking me!”

He continues to pump his shaft harshly and tenderly as he stilts himself on his kneecaps and rubs his thumb on your clitoris. In circulation motion, he gives the external stimulation of pleasure to pair with the drumming throb you felt inside.

“That’s it girly, let me fuck you real good. You’re doing so well, you know that?”

His stiff member thrusts in and out repeatedly. His testicular sacks slap into you, staining the under skin of your vaginal opening bright red as he jams into you. Your body absorbs the impact and shifts around. Like a ragdoll, you felt yourself being tossed by the momentum of his thrusts as your body went left, then right, only for him to grab you by the arms, pinning them to your sides as he straightened you back to center and never breaking the pace.

“Na-uh. Gotta stay still for me baby, we’re going to do this the right way…me and you.”

Your eyes remained squinted shut at the immense pleasure that rampaged in between your legs, yet the vagueness of his words caused you to reach for clarification. “The r-right way? Uh!” You gasped out as you felt the pinch of lightning pleasure the moment he flexed inside you.

“Yeah baby…the right way. Gonna turn us into parents—ah! Fuck!…gonna make you mine forever. Whadya say?”

It was careless, risky, and completely irresponsible…but it made it even more dangerously sinful and absolutely pleasurable. At that moment in time, you didn’t care about anything or anyone, you wanted him. All of him.

He pumps faster and harder, causing your breaths to shorten as you gasp for air while moaning your heart out. “Oh my God!”

“Fuck yeah baby.” He gasps as his rhythm increases. The shortness of his breath indicates he was close as his abdominal region moves at an awesome speed, back and forth as he pummeled into you wildly. Sensing that you were close as the squelching grew louder, he bids you to come undone as the knot snaps in your lower gut.

“Cum on it. I want you to cum on me baby.”

You released and let it all go as you felt loss of control in your body. The shakiness lasted for an eternity as you grabbed your own breasts and gripped onto his forearm for dear life.

“Fuck, make me cum baby.” He grits as he plunges one last time, deeper into you than before. A second later you feel the warmth of his seed staining your walls as he collapses against your frame, declaring his honest love as he decorates your face with small kisses. “Stay with me baby. I’ll never let anything happen to you, let me take care of you and be the one.”

It was like cupid’s arrow struck gold. A product of love and passion emerged as you wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in. Here all along you thought the night was going to end terribly when your ex didn’t take your breakup well, only for it to end blissfully as your savior became the one to do the unexpected. Kissing him, you released as it occurred to you…

“I don’t even know your name…” your voice trembling as you recover your composure from the exploding shot of pleasure that still rhymed within your womanhood, even after he stopped and rested inside.

Riddling a tune, he softly says his name into your ear. His voice came out almost haunting in the most delightful sense as each letter tickled your canal. It was foreign and he exotic, and he knew how to get you to speak it aloud.

“Say it with me baby, S-u-n-ghoon.”

“Sunghoon?”

He paused as he bites his lip. “Oh fuck baby…when you say my name….it just….come here now.”

You feel yourself being dragged down towards him as he plasters baby kisses on your inner thigh. Through the overstimulation that robbed you of your other senses, you allowed him to continue. You would have been a fool to stop him, after all, it was a perfect night to make up for lost time, considering you spent all your life with the good boys. Now that you got a taste of you bad boy, you’re not sure if you ever want to be good again. It’s better to be bad.

[diamonddaze01]

[3:27 AM]

Pairing: lc x reader | wc: 1.1k au: criminal minds au | warnings: mentions of people getting hurt a/n: based on an ask from my 101 drabble prompt game! // surprise i have decided to turn this into a drabble series bc i love criminal minds and i love lee chan so it’s only natural

The insistent knocking at your door at 3 AM could only mean one thing: Lee Chan was about to ruin your night. Again.

You groaned, the harsh thumping reverberating through your bones. It was past 3 AM, and you had a flight to catch in a few hours for another high-risk case. The weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on your chest. You had been barely catching a few hours of sleep in between case files, strategy meetings, and debriefings. But of course, Chan—your insufferable, impossible rival at the BAU—had to make an appearance now, ruining whatever tiny shred of rest you could scrape together.

You briefly debated ignoring it—he’d leave if you waited long enough, right? But the knocking only grew louder, more demanding, until it felt like the walls themselves were shaking with the force of it. With a frustrated sigh, you shoved the blanket aside, letting the cold air of the apartment hit your skin as you dragged yourself out of bed. The room smelled faintly of coffee and stale paperwork, the remnants of a long day.

“God, I swear to God, if it’s another case…” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your tired eyes.

You swung the door open, barely suppressing the irritation that bubbled up in your chest. The sight of him, standing there in a BAU hoodie, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes, made your blood boil instantly. His hoodie smelled like his usual cologne mixed with the scent of a rushed flight—a mix of sweat and caffeine—and you realized, with a sinking feeling, he hadn’t even bothered to look presentable.

“What the hell, Chan?” you snapped, your words a little sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. The exhaustion was wearing on your nerves.

He blinked, his wide eyes—normally so full of cocky arrogance—filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Worry? Guilt? His usual bravado was nowhere to be found.

“I... I needed to make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice unusually low.

You blinked at him, confused, still half asleep. “What?”

His gaze flickered away for a moment, and you noticed the way his hand fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie. A nervous habit, something you’d never seen him do. "I had a nightmare,” he admitted, almost sheepishly.

“A nightmare?” Your brow furrowed. "And you thought waking me up at 3 AM was the best solution?”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with himself, his eyes shadowed by something darker than the fatigue you both shared. "It wasn’t just any nightmare." His voice cracked slightly, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was going to continue.

But then he did, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was about you.”

You felt a chill run down your spine, despite the heat of the apartment. You tried to brush it off, but it was too late. His words lingered in the air, thick and heavy.

“Me?” you repeated, incredulous. "You had a nightmare... about me?"

Chan nodded once, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets as if he was trying to hide from something you couldn’t quite understand. The cocky, competitive Chan you knew so well—the one who always put you in second place on every case, who made you fight tooth and nail to keep up with him—was suddenly nowhere to be found.

“Yeah. It felt... real,” he muttered, his gaze flickering away. “We were chasing that unsub last week in that warehouse, and you—you got hurt.” He paused, the words choking him slightly, and for the first time, you saw that the normally unflappable Chan had something real on his mind. “I couldn’t get to you in time. I couldn’t protect you.”

You froze. The air between you felt suddenly thick, charged with an emotion neither of you had ever voiced out loud. He was standing there, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable, and you—well, you weren’t sure how to respond. You opened your mouth to say something sharp, something biting, but nothing came out. Instead, you found yourself staring at him, not sure where to place the sudden tenderness you felt creeping up.

“Chan, this is insane.” You crossed your arms, though the action felt more like a defense than anything else. You couldn’t quite make sense of the situation. “We’re agents. We know the risks. This is what we signed up for.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I know,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But you’re not just anyone. You’ve had my back when no one else would. You think I’m just supposed to act like I don’t care?”

His eyes met yours, something raw and unspoken passing between the two of you. The usual banter, the sharp edge of competition, had dissolved into something... softer. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous it all seemed, but you couldn’t. You felt your heart thud, unexpectedly heavy in your chest. You had spent years trying to keep things between the two of you cold, professional—just another rivalry between agents vying for the same promotions, for the same cases. But this? This felt different.

You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. “You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” you said, trying to sound like you normally did. But the words came out more strained than you intended. "I’m fine, Chan. I’ll always be fine."

He didn’t flinch, didn’t back away like you expected. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze steady, unyielding. His presence in your apartment felt almost suffocating now, like the tension between you was finally breaking, like something had shifted—and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to.

“I don’t want to be just your rival anymore,” he muttered. “Not with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t know how to process that. You wanted to argue, to shove him away and pretend nothing had changed. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

“Well,” you began, the words coming out slowly, unsure, “I don’t need you to baby me.”

Chan’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I’m not trying to.” His voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now. “I’m trying to say that I care.”

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the dim light of your apartment, staring at the man who had been your rival for so long. The cold air from the hallway had long since seeped inside, but you were no longer cold.

Finally, you let out a sigh, stepping back, breaking the tension, just a little. “Fine. But only because you're annoying.”

He chuckled, the sound softer than usual, more genuine. “I’ll take it.”

You watched him stand there for a moment, before the gravity of it all hit you. Lee Chan—the arrogant, cocky agent who always outshone you in the field—had just shown up at your door at 3 AM, not with a case file or a new lead, but with something deeper, something raw. And maybe, just maybe, it was time you stopped pretending it didn’t matter.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[judeswhore]

easy fix; spencer reid

summary: after spending weeks searching for ways to ease the burden of his headaches, spencer has finally found a solution. you.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

requested: no i’m feeding my own obsession

notes: silly little spencer reid fic bc i’m down bad and had to do it :)) short and fluffy

you had a feeling spencer wasn’t well from the moment he closed the front door behind him, satchel landing almost unceremoniously on the floor beside the shoe wrack. he toed off his shoes, his odd socks, one red stripes, one blue polka dots, making you smile softly over the top of your book, gaze tracking his movements as he sluggishly shuck his coat off and unwound his scarf. brows drawn in tight he rubbed his fingers just above his eyebrow, grimacing in pain as he dipped his head away from the light inside the apartment.

“hey, pretty boy,” you were laying on the sofa, head propped up against the armrest, book settled against your knees and you let it drop to your side when you fully turned your attention to your boyfriend. he seemed to be in a world of his own and he startled slightly at the sound of your voice, blinking a few times as though to clear the fog in his head, his deer in the headlights look curling the smile at your lips even more. “everything okay?”

"yeah, yeah, just tired i think, long day. have you already eaten?" spencer kept massaging his fingers over his forehead, eyes squinting until you weren't sure if they were even open anymore. he dropped his sunglasses on to the table beside the door, his keys following suit and you suddenly understood. he was having one of his bad days and unless you approached the topic first, he would more than likely go straight to bed without asking for anything.

"hmm," you hummed noncommittally. "i made lasagna, there's some left over for you if you want it?" spencer shook his head and finally made his way towards you, fingers tugging a little to loosen the knot of his tie, top button popped open to show the soft skin of his throat. he fell back on to the sofa with a sigh, his free hand reaching to pull your feet over into his lap but before he could you were sitting up, shuffling as close as possible so you could help with his tie. "how bad is the headache?"

"what? i don't-"

"spence." he grimaced even more at your tone, his nose scrunching in that adorable way that never failed to make your heart thump. you slowly undid his tie, pulling it from around his neck and draping it over the back of the sofa.

"a little worse than usual but i think i just need to sleep. you know, lack of sleep has been proven to lower the body's pain threshold which makes them more susceptible to headaches and explains why they're often more painful." spencer sent you a sheepish half smile before his eyebrows scrunched and he turned from the lamp sitting on the small coffee table. "and i've not exactly had a lot of sleep in the last week."

"so, what i'm hearing, doctor reid, is that i need to take you to bed immediately?" his lips suddenly lifted into a smile and he gave a little shrug.

"that's usually the best remedy for most things." your smile matched his, your hand gently patting his chest before you leant in and pressed a single soft kiss to his mouth. the smallest bit of contact had him humming happily, his smile only growing when you tilted and kissed his cheek. pushing yourself up you brushed his hair back off his forehead.

"i'm gonna make you some tea, do you wanna go up and i'll bring it?"

"i can make-"

"go take that suit off, i'll be five minutes." spencer was still sitting in the same spot when you reached the kitchen door, his gaze locked on your back, eyes soft with adoration and love over how you were always so willing to make him feel better no matter what. you threw him a playfully scolding look over your shoulder.

"spencer reid, you better be upstairs and undressed by the time i'm finished making this."

his suit was gone when you stepped into the bedroom and he was sprawled on his back in only a pair of red checkered pants, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other against his stomach. messy hair and the tantalising happy trail made your stomach dip, his effect on you still as strong as the first time you met him. the room was mostly dark, the only light the small bedside lamp which was dimmed to the lowest setting.

"jj wants to go for brunch tomorrow." spencer spoke up, his voice quiet and a little lower than usual, the early signs of sleep already evident. he peeked at you from beneath his arm, eyes still squinted beneath furrowed brows.

"will she be bringing henry?"

"he wants to show you that he learnt how to ride his bike."

"he did?" your smile was instantaneous as you thought about spencer's godson, a look casting over your features that the man in front of you couldn't quite grasp. he watched with lowered lashes as you placed his chamomile tea on the nightstand before climbing on to the bed.

"mhm, he can ride for a whole minute he says. you didn't make yourself tea?"

"no, i'm okay. c'mere." patting your lap you gestured for spencer to rest his head there, his hand curling quickly around your thigh as he got himself comfortable. he nuzzled his nose against your bare skin, the material of your shorts having ridden up and left a soft kiss behind that had warmth spreading through your chest. "can you turn so i can put this on for you?"

“what is it?”

“migraine patch, i bought you a new box when i was at the store yesterday.” spencer shifted a little so he was facing the ceiling, gaze soft on yours, smile just a little lopsided and he lifted his hand to prod his finger into your cheek.

“always taking care of me.”

“hotch pays me monthly.” you caught his eye roll as you brushed his curls back from his forehead, finger tips grazing lovingly over his hairline. spencer stayed silent and watched as you opened the migraine patch, pressed it lightly against the centre of his forehead and smoothed it down into place.

a deep sigh blew past his lips when you gently rubbed your thumb across the patch, eased the slight tension between his still furrowed brows. your touch was light and comforting and within seconds he was letting his eyes fall closed, the grimace he’d been wearing on and off since coming home smoothing out just slightly. the tip of your finger trailed down the bridge of his nose and swept beneath his eye. the dark circles were prominent, days old bags tugging painfully at your heart because it was obvious it had been a while since your boyfriend had gotten a full nights sleep.

leaning down you pressed a fleeting kiss to his closed eyelid. “try get some sleep okay?” his reply was a nod and then he was guiding your hand into his hair, quietly urging you to ease the dull throbbing with your fingers. doing as he wanted, you slowly massaged the tips into his scalp, pressure light but just enough to have him melting into you, the tension in his face relaxing even further. you worked your thumb carefully into his temple before sweeping it over his eyebrow and rubbing into the space between them.

it wasn’t long before spencer’s breathing started to even out, the steady rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful look on his face an obvious indication that he’d finally fallen asleep. he looked at ease, pretty pink lips parted to let out soft snores, the twisted look of discomfort he’d been wearing now smoothed out and you let your lips tilt into a gentle smile. again you traced your finger over his nose and the curve of his lips.

“goodnight, spence.”

[toxic-libra]

moth to a flame pt.2 - csb (m)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: 6.6k genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (big dick!bin ofc, oral sex, brief fingering, mirror sex hihihi, protected sex bc yeah important) tagging: @once27, @pageriviera, @gyuzlover, @kookley77-blog, @sendhelpiloveyeonjun, @bunnyspeach, @pagesoobinie, @acidsoju, @cheekycountesschoi, @pinkbabi

[a/n]: part one here, for those who want to read.

Feeling his stomach swirl as he entered Y/N’s apartment wasn’t common, but so wasn’t having a heart-to-heart with Beomgyu minutes before going to a party… And both happened.

Soobin cursed his gullible mind and male weakness. All those weird thoughts and flutterings had nothing to do with real emotions, they were just his head clouded after crossing the line between friends and something else, plus a good blowjob – Beomgyu’s words, minus the ‘good blowjob’, for Soobin preferred to be ran over and buried alive than telling his best friend about his sex life.

Yeonjun was laying on the couch, reading something on his phone. “Y/N’s in her room.”

“Alright.”

The muffled music made him hesitate in knocking. She was listening to some old EDM tracks, something she did whenever getting ready to go out. After the third knock, the noise stopped and he heard the low ‘Come in’.

Opening the door, he put his head inside. “How long until you’re ready?”

Turning around, she smiled. “Oh, hi Bin! And, uh… Five minutes at max.” She pointed to her jewellery box. “Just deciding on accessories. Why?”

“We’re all waiting for you.”

“Mimi too?”

“Yeah.”

“Good Heaven’s, I’m late then.” She chuckled. “Just give me a second.”

He stared at her dressing table, noticing an open bottle of soju. “Drinking already?”

“I’m quite nervous, so...”

“Just try to relax, everything’s gonna be fine.”

If by ‘going to be fine’ Soobin meant ‘dancing instead of trying to flirt with Donghyuck’, then yes, everything was fine. Because from the moment she arrived, until then, Y/N had barely talked to Hyuck, resorting to her own cowardness and seeking refuge at the safety of the dance floor.

It was too soon.

She wasn’t ready for it yet.

She’d probably never be ready for it.

Walking towards the bar, she asked for a shot of vodka. It was her third, and maybe by the fifth she’d be a bit more confident. However, while waiting, a pair of pretty hands rested on the counter by her side, the slender fingers and pale skin catching her attention.

“Choi Soobin.” She forced a grin.

“What are you doing back there? I thought we were supposed to put our plan into action!”

“I kinda… Chickened-out last minute.”

“I already told Hyuck a thousand times how pretty you look today, and how plump your ass looks in this dress, but if you’re not around, there’s no way he can see it!” Soobin rolled his eyes.

Y/N’s breath caught, cheeks warming. “You said that?”

“Of course I did! Wasn’t this the main…”

“You think I look pretty today?” She cut him off, wanting to sound cheeky, teasing even, but it came out shaky, laced by that unwanted shyness and self-doubt.

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it for the plot, then?”

Soobin moved before his mind calculated the pros and cons of doing such. Hand on her chin, he tipped her face up, thumb trailing her lower lip. “Not everything I do is aiming at our plan, Y/N. You look pretty every day. You are pretty.” He stated as if telling her the sky was blue.

They stared at each other, atmosphere changing and charging with confused, risky thoughts. The way his palm smoothly flattened on her cheek, his finger still on her lip, eyes tender but darkened, and the absolute warmth that came with Choi Soobin himself… Y/N wanted to dive in so bad.

He was her safety-pin.

But before she could act on any emotion, someone tapped her arm, breaking their connection.

“Your shot, miss.” The bartender didn’t look guilty for interrupting.

“Oh, thank you.” Y/N cleared her throat, putting some distance between her and Soobin. Taking a deep breathe, she downed it and turned to him again, holding his hand and intertwining their fingers. “Ok, I’m good now. Let’s go. I’ll try to talk to him a bit.”

Soobin hummed, swallowing an annoyed sigh at the impulse to tug her closer.

First, they stopped by the dance floor so Y/N could tell her friends she’d rest for a while. Walking there wasn’t easy, for the crowd kept blocking their path. Twice, Soobin got elbowed for trying to protect Y/N against the dancers, who moved carelessly to the rhythm – each time, the feeling of her body pressed against his was enough to make the pain of being hit worth it.

Their table was pretty close to the side they got out, but Y/N felt the pang of insecurity again and dragged Soobin to the bathroom area, saying she needed a minute.

Knowing better than pressuring her, he stood at the hall, calmly waiting.

Once alone, she took a deep breath and went for the sink, where the mirror was.

“Get a grip of yourself.” Y/N murmured to her reflection. “Focus on your goal. You got this. Go there, bat your lashes, crack some jokes, smile prettily and go home.”

With Soobin.

She scowled, telling her mind to shut the fuck up.

However, it made sense. If she left with Soobin, they could sleep together and she’d be ready to finally pursue Donghyuck. It was exactly the reason she sought his help, wasn’t it?!

All her resolve crumbled when the first thing she saw after opening the door was a girl all over Soobin. As if on cue, his eyes found hers and he frowned in annoyance, silently pleading to be rescued. Y/N’s mouth twitched in some unexpected anger and possessiveness, jealousy slowly boiling up her blood. The nerve of some girls!

“I’m back, baby.” She smiled wickedly. “Did I take too long?”

“Not at all, love. Let’s go?” Barely looking at the girl, Soobin offered a bowl. And not missing a beat, he took Y/N’s hand.

“She looked like she was bothering you.” Although she didn’t need to explain, she did it anyway.

“She was.” He nodded, fingers intertwining hers. “Are you ready?”

“You want the honest answer or the expected one?”

“Hyuck’s a good lad, you two already talk, so no need to fret.”

“We talk, yeah, but we don’t flirt… I don’t know how to flirt!”

“He’s gonna do all the work, trust me. You stay there just being pretty, looking at him with your starry eyes and perfect mouth and he’ll be sold.”

Soobin thought she was pretty!

Though her eyes starry and mouth perfect!

God, why was her heart racing?! Why did she feel so proud of herself?!

Taking a deep breath, Y/N tried to push those sensations away. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

“You make it sound like a penitence.”

“Being insecure sucks.”

“Just try to relax, I’ll be by your side.” He squeezed her hand tenderly.

“Give me a second, then. Just a second.” She stalled, still quite far from their table.

“You’re overthinking again.” Soobin murmured. “You don’t have to jump his bones, love, but just... Try to interact a bit more, touch his arm while you talk, brightly smile at him and stuff.”

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that? You do it with me, with Yeonjun…”

“It’s different.”

“Because Yeonjun is your kindred spirit and I’m a mere best friend?” He jested, though his face was slightly serious. She rolled her eyes, recognising the banter.

“No!” Y/N groaned. “I mean, in Yeonjunnie’s case, yes. But in yours… It’s different too. A good different.” She quickly added.

“Such as…?”

The same words she uttered to Yeonjun not a day ago floated on her mind. Saying them to Soobin was a risky move – he shouldn’t be her focus here. However, Y/N hated when he acted like Yeonjun was more important to her.

“With you, things are easy. I don’t feel anxious, nor insecure. On the contrary.” She stared at the floor, quite embarrassed of herself. “I feel… Seen. Cared for. Special. It makes sense.”

Soobin blinked, surprised by her words. He never expected that whatever they were doing would affect her this way – she seemed so sure it would help her with Donghyuck and not change anything between them. He knew he’d prefer an easy, calm love over any turbulent feeling, but…

Oh, fuck.

He shut the thought before it fully took form.

“Well, love…” He cleared his throat. “It’s easy because you don’t have a crush on me.” It wasn’t a 100% true, for there were people that fell in love quietly (his parents, for example), but it didn’t apply to their reality. “So, naturally, since you do like Hyuck, you feel more pressured.”

Their eyes met, and her gaze didn’t hold the same assurance it did when she first asked him for help. No, it held a foreign emotion he had yet to see on her – it looked like a mix of confusion and agony… Like she was trying to decipher what she was really feeling.

Like she was second-guessing her crush on Donghyuck.

“How can I help you get more confident to face him now?”

Y/N knew it wasn’t ideal, but he’d proved her once that it didn’t mind how inexperienced she was. She just needed… Reassurance.

“Would you give me a kiss?”

He hesitated. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s cringe, but whenever we kiss, I get that adrenaline rush as if I’m actually a femme fatale or something like that… I don’t know. It stuck in my head ever since you refused my blowjob…”

Thankfully, before she could utter more nonsense, Soobin covered her mouth with his.

The mention of the night he fingered her, but the recent memories of the perfect blowjob, and whatever weird emotions brewed between them were enough to get him into action.

His tongue found hers immediately, a satisfied sigh leaving her lips as her fingers caressed from his long arms to his shoulders and neck, wrapping around his nape. He crowded over her, too tall that even being on her tiptoes wasn’t enough to ease the distance, so he needed to bend a bit more. He circled her waist, pressing her body against his and relishing at her warmth.

They kissed until her mushy brain gave in, deciding she wasn’t ready for Hyuck yet. But she was ready for Soobin. She had been since that night in his kitchen.

“Take me home.” Y/N murmured against his swollen mouth.

Putting some distance, he frowned, unsure if he heard right. “What?”

“Take me home.”

“Are you sure? What about…”

“Home, Bin. Now.” She cut him off, her clipped tone indicating only one thing.

He couldn’t refuse her. Not when the confusion on her pretty eyes had dissolved into lust.

They preferred to leave quietly, mostly because both were trying to ignore what that ‘impulsive’ move actually meant. The silence wasn’t heavy, but it did bother them a bit.

Instead of going to her apartment, Y/N went to his.

Through the darkness, they walked to his room and Soobin thanked God the city lights peeking through the window were enough for them at the moment. He didn’t want to spoil the surprise (not exactly a surprise, but anyway).

She turned to him, vexed, confused and desperate.

“Choi Soobin, I really, really want to sleep with you tonight.”

Although he felt the blow of her confession on his whole body, the only thing he did was suck a breath, letting each word perforate his heart like sharp claws.

“Are you sure, love?”

“Yes.”

And if he was keen to melodramatics, he would’ve fallen to his knees at her consent.

He closed the distance, mouth on hers before she got to say anything else. Before she could even think of regretting what she said. It was manipulative and wrong, but Soobin wanted her too much to give her enough space to think thoroughly about their situation.

Her head fell back mid-kiss, body limp and pliant to his ministrations. Lips closing on the skin of her neck, he prayed the marks would last for weeks. And at the thought of seeing them, he was reminded of the new decoration of his room… The whole reason why he kept themselves in the dark until now, standing at the door like two fools.

Soobin’s hands trembled a bit as he took her dress off. Her skin was ablaze, although goosebumps rose everywhere his fingers touched. He kissed her shoulder, cupping her boobs and pinching a nipple – the moan she let out was pornography, reaching his dick and making it twitch. “Lay down and close your eyes, love.” He ordered, reaching for the lights. When she thumped on the soft mattress, he took a deep breath, expectant. “Now open.”

Y/N was met with her reflection on the ceiling. “A mirror?”

“Got it installed yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because I liked it?”

“That’s… Very kinky of you, Choi Soobin.”

The dimples showed up, warming her heart at the sight of his boyish smile. “You’re the first one to see it. I didn’t think much when I bought it, but you’re here and it makes sense now… You were right. Everything makes sense with you.” His knee dipped the bed. “Wanna try it?”

Thank God she was laying down, or else her wobbly legs would give in.

Everything makes sense with you.

“Of course I do.”

He gave her another one of his cute smiles, those that didn’t mirror any of his naughty intentions, and took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. “Then keep looking up and see the magic happen.”

She giggled, for his words were a bit cheesy, but her smile died as soon as his mouth touched her collarbones. He left some tender bites while his hands kneading her boobs, then, as her fingers threaded between his dark locks, his lips circled a nipple, sucking and licking the hard bud. Y/N moaned, eyes begging to close, but too entranced by their reflection to do so. She could see his tall frame over her, the way her legs rested at each side of his hips, her own face filled with pleasure.

Soobin kept trailing her body with kisses, until he reached her navel. His teeth scraped near her panties’ waistband, his large hands fondling her chest before coming down to her thighs, grabbing them and keeping them open. Y/N held her breath, attention fixed on the mirror – his head was so close to where she wanted it, she could even feel the warmth of his breath. Then, he sucked her over the fabric, and her back arched, heart fluttering at the sensation… But it still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck, Bin.”

“Is everything ok, love?” His voice was tinted with mirth.

“It’ll be when you take my panties off.” She confessed, too hypnotised by him and blinded by her neediness to be bothered of expressing it.

“So impatient.” But his fingers rolled them down, tossing them somewhere on the floor. Before Soobin could dive in, he glanced above, seeing her now naked body splayed on his bed. “Isn’t it such a nice view?” He mused. “I wish I had eyes behind my head to witness everything.”

And then his mouth was on her, not wasting even a second.

His tongue rippled against her clit, soft, curious. His fingers dug into her thighs, pushing her legs as open as he could. Pleasure sparkled on her veins, the feeling of his lips on her pussy so good, so annoyingly good. She moaned, eyes glued to the mirror above, entranced by the erotic sight and caress. She could see his head moving, could feel his smart tongue bumping her needy bud, drawing figures and learning what she liked, what she tasted. Her hips found enough strength to move together with his ministrations, making one of his hands detach from her plump thighs and force her belly down, trying to keep her still.

Y/N’s eyes couldn’t stay open, no matter how wicked and delightful it was to see everything reflected. Her mind went blank at the buzzing of his mouth on her cunt, lapping and coaxing her orgasm. It was all too much – the weird night they had, being with him, the desperation she felt for him, the need to let him rearrange her insides if he wanted to.

A small cry escaped her lips, mixed with his name, body moving as the high crashed on her like waves at the coast. Soobin groaned in pure satisfaction when her thighs closed around his face, suffocating him a bit, but her release was too sweet of a death for him to mind. He kept licking her, drinking every drop, pussy drunk on her ectasis… Until she forced his head up, pulling at his hair with a painful but delicious tug.

“Fuck, sorry, I–”

“I’m good, love.” He purred in reassurance, knowing he couldn’t give her insecurity any space. “You good too?” He grinned sheepishly.

“Shut up.” She couldn’t help but chuckle, despite her racing heart.

“Is this the kind of treatment I get after making you cum?!” He tsked. “Maybe we should stop, then, if you’re going to be rude…”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, I’m sorry.”

His adorable dimples deepened. “Well, if you want to keep going…”

“Please! Please, I’ll be good!” Y/N shook her head like a little girl.

“You really want me to fuck you, huh?”

“Desperately.”

“Or else you’ll go berserk?”

“Exactly.”

“We can’t let that happen.” He moved a bit, lips touching her belly, then the valley between her breasts. “Think you can take my fingers now, love?”

“I can take anything you want me to.”

“Just two fingers, then, or if you’re feeling generous, three.”

Y/N softly hummed. “Anything you want, Bin.”

“Here, suck it for me.” He patted her mouth with his index and middle finger. “Get it wet.”

She obeyed, holding his wrist while her tongue coated his skin with glossy, warm spit.

His eyes never left hers, drowsy and hungry. And when he sunk his digits inside her, without as much as a warning, Soobin couldn’t help but get hypnotised by the way her breath hitched, head falling back on the mattress and legs trying to close around him again. She looked so pretty like that, all pliant to his ministrations, vulnerable and desperate for him.

He was rather uncomfortable in his trousers, but stretching her was his priority – it had to be good for her, she couldn’t get hurt or feel any pain that didn’t hint at pleasurable. He knew he’d feel amazing regardless, so there was no need to rush.

Their figures reflected on the mirror made Y/N’s skin tingle with need. She blinked, dazed by the overstimulation, her belly coiling at each steady move of his hand. Her mouth hung open, lewd moans and whines of his nickname leaving her ever so often.

“Feeling generous?” Soobin kissed her ear, then her neck.

“Magnanimous.” Her voice came out hoarse.

He grinned against her collarbones, inserting a third finger and feeling the immediate clench of her wet cunt. It took his breath away, too. “So fucking snug.” His dick twitched, impatient. “You want to cum again, love? Want on my hands now?”

And as much as she appreciated a second orgasm, she wanted to cum together. Finding his gaze, she shook her head. “Want it with you.”

“With me?” He echoed, biting another smile. “How magnanimous, indeed.”

“Please, I’m ready. I know I can take you!”

There was her clipped tone again, and Soobin knew he had her where he wanted. Brows furrowed in frustration, Y/N stared at him like a princess on the verge of a tantrum out of sheer pettiness. He slowed down until stalling completely, not holding back his smirk.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Y/N supposed that being called ‘cute’ after begging for a guy’s dick wasn’t exactly the most flattering eulogy, however, her heart warmed at the compliment. She didn’t get to comment, though, for he left the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and dropping them on the floor, briefs coming along. Going for his nightstand, he took a condom off – although he knew Y/N offered him no danger (and vice-versa), it’d be better if they kept it wrapped for the time being.

She tried not to ogle him while he put the condom on, tried not to feel wetter at the expectation of having him inside her… And failed miserably.

When Soobin hovered her again, cradling her jaw and tilting her face up, stealing a slow kiss, any inch of doubt for the decisions she took that night left her like lightening.

It had to be Soobin.

It made sense, indeed.

And she wanted that more than she wanted a lot of things before.

He rolled around, bringing her body with his, putting her on top and ending the kiss with a bite on her neck. “You want to ride me? That way you can control how much you’re gonna take and I won’t hurt you.” He suggested, a hand pushing her hair off her shoulder so he could kiss there better. “And I get to enjoy the view a bit.” His chuckle was wicked.

“Hmm… We can try…” Her heart soared on her chest as he laid down against the headboard.

Well, they were doing that.

She was finally having sex again after ages.

Y/N spat on him over the condom and smeared it as she pumped his shaft. Frowning slightly, she wondered how he’d fit – yes, he was the famous cliché ‘big and thick’, not at all like the other two guys she had slept with. With wobbly legs and a pinch of insecurity, she circled his hips and aligned him on her hole. Soobin tried to keep his attention on the mirror, but as she sat on his dick, his focus diverted – he couldn’t help the deep groan that left his throat at her snugness and warmth. He was only past the tip when she stopped.

“Too big.” She gulped. “It hurts.” Her eyes weren’t teary, but they stung.

“Slow down, love. Don’t rush.” He gritted his teeth, remaining quiet despite the urge to thrust fully in. “Look up, it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.” Maybe the visual stimulation would get her wetter and make it easier for him to slide in without the pain. She obeyed, her head falling a bit as she faced above. Before she could move again, one hand rested on her waist and the other on her boob, pinching a nipple. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Her voice came out breathy.

“Maybe if I…” His mouth landed on the beak, sucking it.

Y/N immediately moaned, sinking a bit further on him. “So good.”

He changed sides, and her fingers threaded on his hair, tugging at the locks. She was mesmerised by the sight, as he predicted. There was something rather intimate in seeing themselves on the mirror – his face buried on her bosom, her sitting on him, her pleasured expression…

“It’s taking everything in me…” Soobin swallowed a groan, hands now on her ass, groping the flesh with too much strength. “Not to thrust in fully.”

She let out an airy chuckle. It was painful for her, but he probably was having it way worse. So, gathering the remains of courage she still had, she forced her hips down, trying to get most of his length in. “Maybe if you weren’t so big…” Her voice came out strained, bottoming down. “God, this hurts. It’s like I’m a virgin all over again.”

Soobin moaned, dick twitching at the primitive idea of being her first. It was quite an outdated thought, but he was quite possessive and romantic himself, so he couldn’t control his own mind.

“Hi.” He murmured against her jaw, leaving small bites there, hoping they would distract them both – for completely different reasons.

“Hi.” Y/N smiled.

“You’re unbearably so tight, love.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t say that. It’s not a bad thing!”

“Just hang in there for a second, please? Just until the burn goes away.” She stole a peck, thumb caressing his cheek. “I promise it won’t take long.”

This time, instead of a peck, she kissed him. Their tongues met in a sensual dance, her torso pressed against his while his hands didn’t know whether to stay on her plump ass or go back to her waist. His digits left fire where they touched, and Y/N melted on the kiss. Instinctively, she rocked her hips just a bit… Soobin’s grip tightened on her.

“Love, don’t. If you’re not ready, don’t.” He warned.

“I think I am. Eventually, it’ll get better, right? So...”

They looked up briefly, grinning at the sight. Her moves were sloppy, slow, only testing how to work that out, how to ease the pain so it would become pleasurable. Then, Soobin kissed her neck again, leaving purple marks without caring about the aftermath. She found more stability, hips going up and down as he helped her, pushing her ass in sync.

“You’re driving me insane.” Soobin groaned, searching her mouth.

That made Y/N smirk. It was so weird how he made her feel this good. At his every reaction, she felt her confidence awakening, felt some sort of inner power brewing together with pleasure. The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing unnaturally, while she tried to conceal her pace and the caress. She tugged at his hair, nails burning his scalp and making him see stars.

“Help me go fast.” Y/N begged. “H-How?”

“I’ll take charge now, ok? Feeling good?”

“Ok, yes. Please. Fast.” She panted against his lips.

Soobin let his weight on top of her, hands at each side of her face, the good ol’ missionary. The new position offered a perfect angle to hit her sweet spot, not to mention how intimate it was. Sure looking at their reflection was hot, however, witnessing her expression of pure bliss was hotter. And knowing it was him who made her feel that way was… Surreal. Picking up his pace, he tried to go as fast as he could, tried to make every wish of hers command.

She held onto his forearms, back arching with each thrust. It had been so long since she felt this good, and later on she’d regret wasting so much time with her ‘celibacy’ – but right now… Right now, she didn’t want to think of anything other than Choi Soobin.

She couldn’t.

Everywhere she looked, every breath she took, every one of her cells were filled with him. Pleasure boiled together with her blood, buzzing through her body, raw, conquering. Their gazes locked, her name leaving his mouth in that husky timber he had, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, lips swollen from the millions kisses they shared…

It was too much.

“Bin,” She panted. “I’m coming.”

God, he almost collapsed at her words. Sneaking a hand between them, he found her clit, circling it and rubbing it just right. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, legs trembling as her pussy clenched repeatedly when she reached her climax, moaning his name like a prayer.

Hypnotised, Soobin followed like a moth to a flame. If Y/N was the deathly light, he’d perish proudly, peacefully. Lost in her, he spilled inside the condom, thick, strong, intense. Her name on his lips like the only language he knew, her face the only memory he would dare to remember.

And in the afterglow, he secretly wished it could last forever.

Y/N didn’t know much about ‘morning after’s to act like a normal adult woman would. As soon as she woke up, with Soobin’s tall frame pressed against her back, she started scheming how she could flee to her apartment without raising too much suspicion. If Beomgyu was already awake and at home, she was doomed – however, if he was asleep, she still had a chance.

Untangling herself from Soobin’s embrace, Y/N cringed a bit at her sore muscles. He stirred in his slumber, a delicious groan escaping his throat as he turned to the wall’s side.

Oh, dear Lord.

Not even aiming to the bathroom first, she opened the door and poked her head out, looking to both sides and listening to the quietness of the flat. Walking on tip toes, she reached the hall, noticing neither Beomgyu’s nor Mimi’s shoes and coats were there.

Excellent.

She couldn’t go back home because they were there.

Locking herself on the bathroom wasn’t her smartest idea, but she needed to pee and wash up. When she looked at the mirror, her reflection told her everything she didn’t want to know. The glow on her face, Soobin’s marks on her neck, her dishevelled hair… What a fantastic, dangerous night she had. How was she supposed to get back on track?

Was it even possible?

Turning on the shower, she ordered herself to breath. People had one-night-stands, there was no need for her to fret. Actually, when she asked for Soobin’s help, she had that in mind… So why was she so… Antsy? Confused? Dazed?

And then, after the kitchen episode, they agreed to talk about whatever made them awkward. How could she talk about last night?! When ‘awkward’ was absolutely the last thing it was, but…

She needed some time alone.

She needed to think.

Turning off the shower without even getting inside, she decided dealing with Beomgyu was easier than dealing with whatever was going on with her right now. Gathering her dress and panties from the floor, Y/N made to the door, wrapping herself on her coat and putting on her shoes.

It wasn’t the dreadful ‘walk of shame’, however, it wasn’t a prideful one either.

She knew Soobin would be disappointed at her for running away first thing in the morning. Well, he’d have to let her off the hook for this one.

Typing the password, Y/N made way to her bathroom, safely locking herself up. Drawing a bath would be better than showering, and so she did, promising to deal with happened later on.

The cold, short replies on their chat made Soobin’s belly churn unpleasantly. Well, he only had himself to blame. Was it too soon to push her to another man’s arm? Maybe. But if he didn’t do it now, he’d want her all to himself… And she didn’t want him the same, as his empty room so kindly illustrated when he woke up alone near lunch that Sunday (not even a goodbye message left!).

In trying to play cupid, he scheduled another PC Bang meeting. And as they walked there, side to side, avoiding to touch each other, Soobin realised he lost her. The nonchalant girl by his side wasn’t his best friend anymore, and he didn’t know what to do with all the emotions that brewed inside him – from last night, from this night, from the tragic but obvious future…

The PC Bang was too crowded for their liking, so they ditched it for fried chicken and beer. Instead of taking her usual place between Yeonjun and Soobin, this time, Y/N waited for Soobin to sit and sat in front of him. Although the distance was inexpressive, she felt a bit… Safer.

It was already difficult to focus on Donghyuck when Soobin was nearby. And now that she had slept with him, it was ten times worse. Before she could get a grip of herself, her restless mind was flooded by flashes of last night; and when their eyes met, she felt her stomach tighten.

Was he thinking about it too?

Was he aware of her uneasiness towards him?

Was he trying his best not to touch her at any given chance?

Because she felt like fighting a lost battle.

“Yeonjunnie texted.” She looked up from her phone. “They’re almost here. I’ll wait outside!”

“It’s quite cold, stay inside.” Soobin reached for her hand, stalling her.

“He’s a bit sour that we left yesterday without warning, so I want to appease him.” She explained, hoping the goosebumps were from the chilly air. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“You spoil him too much.”

“I spoil everyone I care for, Bin.” She held his gaze for a heartbeat later, then forced a giggle and left – hoping they haven’t noticed how desperate she was to be alone.

Going there was a mistake.

Soobin’s attention remained on Y/N until she disappeared through the entrance door. With a resigned sigh, he took a sip of his beer and relaxed against the booth.

“You two could stop eye-fucking each other in public.” Hyuck chuckled next to him.

“What?”

“Y/N and you. I get it’s the beginning and everything’s quite out of control, but I’m feeling weirdly shy here. Like I’m intruding.”

“What about Y/N and I?” Soobin frowned, somehow knowing where that was going.

“Dating, duh. Everyone knows it already, you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

God, that was so wrong. That was so, so wrong and it would come to bite him in the ass later, but Soobin couldn’t help it anymore. “Everyone noticed, then.”

“I don’t know how you planned to keep it a secret when you two are going on dates non-stop, and I saw you making-out next to the bathrooms yesterday.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry you got to see that.” His chuckle was forced, since he fought against despair for ruining Y/N’s plan and the unwanted triumph for people thinking she was his.

“Nah, it’s ok. I thought something was fishy when you started bringing her to our meetings often, and you just couldn’t stop talking about her… I just had to put two and two together.” Hyuck shrugged. “She’s a nice girl, bro. I’m glad you found someone good for you.”

“Thanks.”

He was so, so fucked.

Three days later

Y/N had given it enough thought. For the past three days, she witnessed Beomgyu arriving at her flat with brownies, cookies and another Nutella bread… Apparently Soobin was thinking, too. About what? She wasn’t so sure. As for her, she went through all the pros and cons of ending their agreement, of still pretending to want Donghyuck. She knew maybe that was all she would get from Soobin – maybe her mind did play tricks and he actually didn’t like her back. She knew she probably would end up with a broken heart, however, she couldn’t keep that going.

It made no sense anymore.

Not when her feelings for Soobin bloomed like ivy, getting her covered in them.

That’s why, like the day she suggested their agreement, mid-Anime episode, she muttered:

“I think we should stop.”

Soobin didn’t react at first. He was so enthralled by the story, fingers mindlessly playing against her thigh, drawing figures and reminding her why that conversation was necessary. “Mhmm. The episode is almost finished, we can do something else later.”

“No, Bin. We should stop.” She put some distance between them. “Us.”

“What?” He looked at her, confused. “Why?”

“I… I think we should stop seeing each other for a bit.”

Dread pulsed through Soobin, turning his body rigid. Her face dropped, and he read all the wrong emotions there. Shaking his head, he forced himself to stand up, rage and guilt finding their way to his mouth. Before he could articulate any proper thought, his impulsiveness got the best of him.

“You promised nothing would change between us!” He quipped. “You promised we’d still be friends after everything, Y/N. You swore!”

She felt her eyes burning, but as always, she didn’t cry. “I know what I said, but…”

How could Soobin come clean, anyway? She wanted to stop seeing him, probably because after letting him fuck her in the best way possible, she really noticed how strong her feelings for Hyuck were… Although Hyuck thought she was his girlfriend.

They were doomed from the beginning.

“Now I’ve lost you twice.” He turned around, ready to flee from that overwhelming bubble of unsaid feelings. “I knew things wouldn’t end up good, but I still did it… And now I’ve lost you again.” Not even a step was taken when he felt her fingers on his arm.

“Bin, wait.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with this now.”

“But if we don’t talk, then how…”

“He thinks we’re dating, Y/N.”

“P-pardon?” She froze.

“Donghyuck thinks we’re dating, that’s why keeping this is pointless. He won’t be interested in his friend’s girl.” Soobin looked at her over his shoulder. “But we’re not dating, are we?” He knew exactly what was going through her mind, knew those turbulent eyes better than anyone else. “And I didn’t correct him.” The words came out heavy, poisoned. “Aren’t you asking me why?”

She gulped. “Why?”

“‘Cause yeah, he might be a good match for you, you might have something in common and he’s a nice dude… But will he help you out of your shell like I do? Will he be alright with Yeonjun’s place in your life like I am? Will he…” ‘Love you like I do?’. It was on the tip of his tongue, however, Soobin remained silent. It was too soon for that. “I’m sorry things ended up this way.”

The hand around his pulse tightened. “Aren’t you going to fight for me, then?”

“What?”

“So you tell me all this, but don’t say the only thing that matters?! And you expect me to do what?! How can I feel safe enough to confess my feelings for you when you’re about to leave with a lame ass ‘sorry, I can’t deal with this’, as if it wasn’t obvious I feel the same?!” She sounded angry, and Soobin turned around, finding her scowling at him. “God, Bin, it stopped being about Donghyuck the moment I had your fingers inside me! I get I was kinda slow to notice, but you could’ve guided me to the right path! You’ve been guiding me all along anyway!”

“You realise you just confessed to me, right?” He was half amused, half confused.

Y/N hesitated. “I do.”

“You don’t get to take it back.” He shook his head, coming for her.

“I don’t.” She agreed.

“Say it again, full words now.” Soobin held her chin up, eyes locking with hers.

“I’m not being the one to take the first step again, Bin. I did it twice, it’s your turn now!”

He had some cheesy lines on the tip of his tongue, but she was right. She deserved something genuine after being brave enough for both of them.

“I love that you trusted me to take you off your shell, to help you find confidence and bloom. I love that you were crazy enough to cross the line for both of us, because if you haven’t… I wouldn’t be here now.” Without warning, he stole a peck, relishing on her surprised moan. “I love that you showed me all your versions and let me fall in love with each of them. I love that it’s you and that I get to tell you that it’s you, Y/N. I love you. For real.” She blinked, and Soobin’s eyes winded. “W-Wait a minute! Is this… A teardrop?”

Y/N chuckled, feeling the wet drop on her cheek. “Well, you can’t get all poetic and expect me to be unphased by it! Not after trying to give me up like the hero of a sappy book would!”

“I didn’t know, love.” He shook his head, wiping another tear. “I didn’t know you felt the same. You’re so good at channelling everything, I misread it.”

“I can’t hide much when it’s about you. You make sense, and you make me special.”

“You are special, love. To me.”

“You’re special to me too, Bin. Thanks for deciding on helping me despite the risks.”

“To have you in the end, I’d do it all over again.”

“I love you, Bin. Sorry it took so long.”

“It didn’t take long, we both were just… A bit blind.”

She smiled, agreeing and kissing him again. Now, with honest feelings out in the open, she noticed that the anxiety from before had disappeared. It wasn’t that she was insecure and shy, she was just focusing on the wrong gamer guy.

thank you all for reading <33

as always, english is not my first language, so any mistakes please feel free to tell me!

[moonlightspencie]

here’s a non-request drabble. i’ve been thinking about this a lot, so here’s some minor smut & sirius black being embarrassed bc it’s cute

pairing: remus lupin x reader, mentioned sirius black x reader

warnings: minor smut (dirty dreams), teasing sirius until he’s blushing and floundering. 18+ only please!

——————————

Sirius shifted the both of you into a new position, one that had you squeezing your eyes shut before he grabbed your jaw, convincing you to keep your eyes on him.

“Attagirl,” he groaned, holding your knees to your chest. He smiled down at you in a state of bliss. “Take it so well, angel.”

“S’good, Siri,” you whimpered.

He took a moment just to watch you under him, your brows drawn together in pleasure. He admired your pretty lips, open and pouring out the cutest little sounds as he pounded into you. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, connecting your lips in a heated kiss that was at least 80% tongue. He could still taste your fruity lipgloss, and nibbled at your bottom lip for good measure, to which you replied with a little giggle. He smiled to himself at the sound.

He moved back to get a better angle inside of you, soon making noises that rivaled your own. He grew closer and closer to his climax, his breathing heavy. Just a few more—

“Sirius!”

Sirius woke in a cold sweat to your soft hand on his arm. He startled, moving slightly, his back hitting the soft cushions of the couch.

“You okay? It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

He swallowed. “Uh— Yeah. Yeah, something like that. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

He glanced at your hand, still on his arm, then back at you. He nodded quickly.

“Remus wanted me to come get you. We’re going to leave for dinner soon. James is coming, too.”

He nodded again, letting out a heavy breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

As soon as you left the room, he squeezed his eyes shut, the scenes of his dream and your pretty moans rattling around in his head with reckless abandon. A wave of guilt washed over him with it. It was bad enough to dream about his friend in that way, worse that said friend was dating his best friend, and downright diabolical that he really enjoyed that dream. He sat up, trying to shake that feeling, but it was much more difficult than he anticipated. The bulge in his pants that had become more than uncomfortable wasn’t helping, either.

Though, if he thought that was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to dinner. James had dropped out of the plans at the last minute, leaving Sirius with you and Remus. Normally, third wheeling was fine by him: he was almost as close with you as he was with Remus. Though, it was an added discomfort that he couldn’t stop thinking about that dream all night. Every time you looked in his direction, he could picture your face as he was inside of you. Every time Remus looked at him, he felt like he could see right through him. That was somehow even more mortifying.

It only got worse later in the night.

You’d gone to the kitchen to put on some tea, claiming that you needed your ‘nightly caffeine’. Remus shook his head at you with a smile, accepting a soft kiss before you left that Sirius found himself watching too closely.

A moment after you were out of earshot, Remus settled his gaze on Sirius.

“What’s going on with you, Pads?”

Sirius blushed. “W-what?”

“Something’s up. She didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve been acting weird. Said you’ve barely talked to her all night,” Remus said with a raised brow. “It’s usually pretty hard to get you two to shut up when you’re together.”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Why won’t you tell me? When do we keep secrets?”

Sirius swallowed. “It’s— It’s hard to explain. I don’t think I can, Mooney.”

“Try me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as his eyes fluttered shut. This was more than embarrassing.

“I, um,” he groaned. “This is fucking embarrassing. I can’t.”

“It can’t be that bad. Remember when you told me about the time Amelie asked you to wear her—”

“Alright,” Sirius cut him off, throwing his hand up. “Alright. But you have to promise you won’t get pissed.”

Remus furrowed his brow. “Should I?”

“No. It isn’t…” Sirius clenched his teeth, then bit the bullet. “I had a dream about her.”

A silence settled over the room for a minute.

“Okay?” Remus responded at last.

Sirius huffed. “A sex dream.”

“Oh,” Remus’ eyes went wide. Then, he laughed. “You’ve been acting like this because of a dream?”

“It’s not funny, Mooney. I’ve never thought about her like that. It feels wrong.”

“Yeah, mate, you’re wanting to fuck my girl,” Remus said, laughing more. “‘Course you feel awkward.”

“I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Clearly you do,” Remus smirked. “Can’t blame you, either, but that’s no reason to shut her out. I have dreams like that all the time.”

“But you’re dating her. You’re supposed to,” Sirius huffed again.

“Should’ve known all the flirting would get you in trouble one day, Pads. Finally happened,” Remus said, leaning back in his seat with a grin.

“What finally happened?” you asked, coming in with a mug of tea.

You set it down on the table, just barely, before Remus was pulling you into his lap.

“Sirius was just telling me about a dream he had—”

“Remus,” Sirius warned. “Quiet.”

You furrowed your brow. “I feel like I missed something.”

Remus smirked, pressing a kiss to your neck, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your thigh.

“Just barely, darling,” he mumbled against your skin, looking at Sirius with a devious glint in his eyes. “Maybe Sirius will tell you sometime, yeah?”

Sirius blushed hard, averting his eyes, but only piquing your interest.

“Is this about why he’s been avoiding me?”

Remus smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see, darling.”

part 2 here!

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: Hawkins is home once again, and you're determined to keep your peace. The past comes calling.

chapter warnings: slow burn, motherhood, swearing, childhood trauma, fluff, sweet sweet memories and friends bonding again. <3

a/n: I don't want to give spoilers, but we may or may not have a run-in with a certain metal head in this chapter! :O (just a taste, a lil treat bc you've all been so good.)

chapter 3: Silver Springs || series masterlist

NOVEMBER 4th, 1983

Friday was the best day of the week.

Sure, weekends are great, but Friday night meant movie night at the Munson’s.

“You better not make her watching nothin’ scary, Edward.” Wayne huffed, grabbing his choice of cap from the wall, as well as big winter coat.

Eddie’s hand flew over his heart. “I would never! Not so close to the holidays!”

You threw a piece of popcorn at his head as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “Holidays? It’s not even Thanksgiving!” Eddie motions for you to keep throwing so he can catch one in his mouth. You oblige, but not without a protest of your own. “I would like—no, I demand a comedy.”

Eddie bowed to you, peering up and showing off the piece of popcorn he’d caught at the last second “What m’lady wants, she shall receive.”

The trailer door blew out of Wayne’s grip as he opened it, “Christ, it’s freezin’! Turn the heat on, boy. Your date is gonna freeze to death.”

Eddie gives you a knowing look. There’s no point, his eyes send the message loud and clear. The two of you have told Wayne dozens of times that you weren’t on dates, you were just best friends hanging out.

He didn’t buy it.

“Why does she get the heat? Pretty sure I got frost bite when I got outta the shower today.”

“Because,” Wayne slid his hands into a pair of work gloves as he walked toward you. “I like her and I want her to keep comin’ around.” He bent down, and kissed the crown of your head.

You protested, “I don’t wanna bug you—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Eddie teased. “Ya know you say that a lot?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You could never bug me—ever. Even if you could, who cares? Not like it’s a bad, it’s a good bug you reserve just for me; my bug.”

Your eyes seemed to roll of their own free will, “Eddie.”

He dropped down next to you, putting a hand on your upper thigh as he offered you a twizzler. “Yes, Bug?”

Neither of you had noticed when exactly Wayne slipped out.

You’d compromised that night. Ghostbusters, a little something for the both of you.

About 30 minutes in, Eddie looked at you. He took in how you laughed at something Bill Murray said, how the sound bubbling from your chest made your nose crinkle.

God, he could listen to that sound all day.

When you turned to him, he panicked. Standing quickly, “Uh, shit…here,” he said, not knowing where the hell he was going with the sentence.

Eddie looked around for a moment, what felt like an hour for him was surely only a few seconds. He ended up grabbing Wayne’s old Polaroid camera from the shelf. “C’mon, we gotta take a picture.”

You smiled through your confusion, “Why?”

Eddie shrugged, “Because we never do! And I wanna remember this even when we’re so old we can’t remember our own names.”

“You want to remember a randoms Friday night?”

He nodded. “If it’s a Friday night with you? Always.”

The whirr and click of the camera went off before you knew what was happening. “Eddie, I wasn’t ready! I’m gonna look like a fucking Goblin!”

The timber of his laugh made your heart race. Eddie pulled the film from its slot beneath the lens. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bug. Troll maybe, but never a Goblin.”

You elbowed his ribs at the exact moment he connected with the couch.

“Oof.” He laughed. “C’mon, smile?”

“Fine.”

Eddie put his arm around you, pulling you in close. A second later, the flash blinded you both, leaving you dazed and giggly for the next minute.

You held out your hand, and gestured to where the photo of the two of you was laid out to develop. “Let’s see it then.” You demanded.

Eddie pulled it off the coffee table, looking at it before he handed it to you.

He wasn’t looking at the camera, no. His eyes were on you, and he was smiling harder than he’d thought was possible.

He saw how you were leaned into him, your hand holding his as it draped over your shoulder, the light behind your eyes, the smile he couldn’t get enough of.

Eddie felt it then.

So immediate and sudden it felt like his heart got struck by lightning, and it was then that he realized two things:

That this feeling, whatever it was, couldn’t possibly end well.

And two?

He is so fucked.

It became easier to breathe.

You hadn’t realized just how suffocating life here had become. To be back in Hawkins and still feel like you were hiding and alone. Though now, and in the weeks since you’re run-in with Robin and Steve, it all got a bit brighter and a little less heavy.

Steve was committed to putting the past behind you, a sentiment he all but drilled into your head the first night he visited Maggie and you at the house.

“You did what you thought you needed to do to make it. You’re back now, though. Let us be there for you.”

He also became Maggie’s own personal jungle gym. Whenever they watched a movie or had a snack together, your daughter could be found on top of him in some way. They especially enjoyed watching cartoons on Saturdays; Maggie perched on top of Uncle Cheeseball’s shoulders, because according to her it was the ‘best seat in the house.’

Robin couldn’t be deterred either.

She’s over at least three nights a week now, and Maggie is obsessed—like, seriously obsessed. It’s the sort of bond you watch from afar and admire, the way your friend opened her heart to your daughter. How she’s protected her innocence and encouraged her silliness.

Kids aren’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea. They’re loud and messy and demanding in a totally innocent way. They require you to think before you act and never put yourself first. It’s why any dates you’d been on over the years hadn’t worked out, most people disappeared after they learned of her. Not that you cared, Maggie was number one in your life, and you were damn proud of that.

But now here you are, the life you had been convinced you’d never have was happening before your eyes.

“And ya know what else, Miss M? Your Mom fell right on her butt and slid all the way down the hill!”

Maggie’s laughter echoed off the your living room walls.

“Hey! It was December and Hillcrest is notoriously icy when it snows!” You feigned insult, and tickled Maggie as her laughter multiplied.

“Mom! That’s so silly! How'd you stop sliding?” She questioned.

Robin’s eyebrow quirked up, “Yeah, how did you stop sliding?”

You sighed, embarrassment painting your face. “Steve—Uncle Cheeseball had to catch me.”

The two of them howled with laughter, “Yeah-yeah, laugh it up. I don’t like this, you’re in…cahoots!”

“Excuse me!” Robin objected. “I am a responsible adult!”

Maggie stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah! Me too!”

You leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Alright, well, it’s bedtime for all adults and former children.”

Maggie whined, but let out a yawn mid-grumble.

“See? Proof.” You booped her nose. “Go on, you have school tomorrow. Teeth, pjs, bed, okay?”

Maggie hugged you, “Okay, Mama. Goodnight, Robby! I’ll see you on Friday for pizzas!”

She ran the few feet to your friend, and squeezed her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo.”

Maggie, by the grace of God, listened. She was so worn out from laughing and dancing and playing with Robin that she crashed as soon as her little head hit the pillow.

“Want me to take the trash out on my way?” Robin asked, hands full of the nonsense she’d brought along with her.

“Is there a 3rd hand in there I don’t know about?” You nodded towards her, “No, Robs. I got it, I just gotta do the dishes first.”

Robin smiled behind you, relishing in the gratitude she felt having you back. “I-I’m so proud of you.” It was a near whisper, and when you turned to your friend, she had tears in her eyes.

“Maggie is…she’s so cool! And you’re obviously an incredible Mom. I’m just, I’m sorry you felt like you had to stay away.”

Your own eyes burned at that. You walked to Robin and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry too, I’m sorry I didn’t call, or write…I just didn’t know how to—to be here.”

She nodded into your embrace, adjusting the items she cradled. “Well, you’re here now. Anything you need, say the word and I’ll be here, Steve too.”

You pulled away, “I know.”

Robin grabbed her keys with the few fingers she had free. “I don’t mean to ruin the beautiful moment of love and friendship, but have you thought about...him? About what’ll happen if you see him again? I mean, Hawkins isn’t exactly a big town.” She avoided using his name, and that didn’t go unnoticed.

It’s all I think about.

Fingers toyed with the hair tie around your wrist, “I wouldn’t even know…” your voice faded out. “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it, I’ve been here for a while already, and haven’t even heard anyone mention his name.”

That was true.

Everyone used to talk about Eddie Munson. The troublemaker, the cult leader, the devil-worshipping freak. The boy who was corrupting you, and ruining your future.

These backwoods hicks had no idea just how good he was back then. How kind and gentle and full of courage he was. You couldn’t understand why they hated him, not when you found it so easy to love him.

“I didn’t wanna upset you—“

“You didn’t,” you’re quick to reassure her, “it’s a logical question, and sure, maybe I’m avoiding the subject, but I appreciate you looking out for me all the same.”

Robin shrugged as if it was the most simple thought in the world, “Always.”

She left after an additional 5 minutes of arguing about helping you clean, to which you would not allow.

Cleaning up after a long day, while exhausting, was your only time to yourself. It was the one part of the day Maggie wasn’t asking something of you or looking for something or covered in something sticky.

Why is it always something sticky?

The dishes were done, and the counters were clean. You plopped on the couch, and turned on whatever the tv was playing at this hour and had just begun to fold the laundry, when the stink of the trash left by the door nearly had you retching.

“Nope, not waiting til morning…”

“Steve, Steve…” Eddie laughed.

The boy threw his hands up in frustration. “Eddie, I’m serious!”

Eddie slapped his friends shoulder. “I appreciate the worrying, pal. I’m fine, I had one beer let’s see…” the metal head looked at his watch, “an hour and a half ago. Why the sudden concern about my health and safety, hm?”

Steve blanched at the question, stumbling over his words. “T-There was an accident tonight! Drunk driver hit the pole on Cornwallis. Cops everywhere, ya know?”

Steve knew exactly why the thought of Eddie getting hurt or worse was suddenly a new phobia he developed. He had just hoped he’d hide it better than this.

Eddie sighed, “Great,” and stood, grabbing his keys out of his pocket, “back roads it is, gonna take me 20 minutes to get home now.”

Steve stood too, causing Eddie to glance back. He pinched his friend’s cheek, “Would you feel better if I called you when I got home, Stevie?” Eddie mocked, pouting his lip.

Steve pushed him away, “Shut up, man. Fine, that’s the last time I give a shit about my friends.”

Eddie laughed, “Nah, I appreciate it, Harrington. I’ll see ya on Friday right? Still looking your car over at the shop?”

“Yeah, yeah. See ya Friday.”

Eddie left Steve’s apartment smiling to himself.

What a good dude.

By the time he hit Cornwallis, the detour was worse than expected. It took him down several back roads and side streets Eddie is usually able to avoid all together.

Not to mention Forest Hills trailer park is on the opposite side of town from Harrington’s place. Eddie is usually able to zip down Main Street to save some time, but with Cornwallis a no-go, it was an addition pain in the ass to avoid the one-ways.

“Oh come on.” He griped. The car in front of him was going what seemed like negative miles an hour. He whipped the wheel to the left, evading the current route and instead, opting for an old way he remembered like the back of his hand.

Even in the dark.

It was eerie. To be on this street that he'd driven hundreds of times, knowing it wasn't leading to you.

He could practically see you, the way you’d sit on the curb until he got there, bag packed with your essentials for a few days. Wanting to get the hell out of this place before your Dad came-too.

The street was dim, lit only by the few flickering street lamps. He attempted to drown out the glimpses of the past, turning up the radio, and blasting Crazy Train so loud it made his windows shake.

Six houses away.

It was a subconscious entity; these memories shouting from the void and demanding to be remembered.

Three…

The porch light to your old house was on. “Huh…weird.” Eddie whispered to himself.

His van was barely at your mailbox when he slammed on his brakes, nearly getting choked by the seatbelt. He skidded to a stop, and killed the music.

Either he’s high as a kite, or it was you. Standing right in front of him as you dragged the trash can to the curb.

He’s hoping it’s the former.

You, rightfully so, looked like a deer in fucking headlights. Jumping back when you heard the screech of his tires.

But you know that van—you’d know it simply by the way it sounded coming down your street or by the shape of the headlights shining through the Hawkins fog.

The rusted hinges groaned when the drivers side door opened. Eddie was moving, but he wasn’t sure why. Not when very fiber of his being was screaming at him to stay in the van—to keep driving. Did he listen?

Of course not.

Eddie Munson says your name so softly and with such disbelief, it almost sounded like fear coating his tongue.

You, unlike the boy—man before you, were frozen.

That was the first thing you’d noticed. Eddie still looked like…Eddie, just a manlier—a more rugged version of the boy you’d loved.

He had five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. Cheekbones that were more defined, the hollows more pronounced. His hair was shorter, shorter than you remember it, anyway and he wore boots—work boots. Gone we’re the torn-up Goodwill sneakers he’d saved up weeks to buy.

He was in a black henley and dark wash jeans, though he still had his signature wallet chain and denim jacket.

Your heart slammed in your chest. Your dinner churned in your belly.

You could go. You could turn around and ignore him, walking back into your home and do exactly what he did to you.

But you wouldn’t, you’re better than that—better than him.

“W-Why…what are you doing here?” He half-mumbled.

“Minding my own business.” The strength in your voice surprised you.

Eddie was quiet, very uncharacteristically so, before he shook his head…presumably in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

“But you’re, you’re here. You’re in Hawkins.” You could practically see the proverbial egg shells he was walking on.

Was he…afraid of you?

Good. You thought. He should be.

You crossed your arms, “Nothing ever did get past you.”

He was stuck. Quicksand was pulling him down, holding his body tightly and dragging him into the Earth’s core. He couldn’t breathe, he was dying.

At least that’s what it felt like.

Eddie cleared his throat. “How, um, how long—“

“A while.” You interject.

How long had you been here? How long were you staying? It didn’t matter, the answer is the same.

“And you’re staying here.” He nodded to the blue house he’s rescued you from hundreds of times.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.” You we’re cold, colder than he’s ever heard you.

Eddie took you in now. You were the same in every way that mattered. Older, sure…but still you, and for that, Eddie couldn’t be more grateful.

You had new smile lines. Were you happy? He hoped to whatever God was listening that you were.

“It’s not, shit. I—I know it’s not. I just didn’t know—“

A noise from inside the house startled you. Your head whipped around, fast as lighting.

Shit. Maggie.

“You okay?” He asked.

No, no, no.

Ignoring him, you turn and start walking back to the house, when Eddie calls your name again, not daring to move from where he’d planted his feet.

You all but spit at him, “Leave, Eddie. There’s nothing left here for you.”

And you meant it.

When you were safely inside, you check Maggie, who was sound asleep.

The noise must have been the door, or the wind, but it scared to half to death.

He didn’t deserve to know her, and maybe that’s selfish, but you aren’t ready to share your daughter yet.

Not with him.

Who knows, maybe you never will be.

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend

warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader

word count: 20,3k

notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(

It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.

”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.

”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 4

a/n: hey everyone! i know it's been a while but the next part is finally here! not sure how many parts i want this to be bc i dont want to fill up the tag, still waiting to make an ao3 account haha- but anyways im getting a taglist started just of people who have shown interest in this series, if i put you on it and you don't want to be on it just let me know. and ofc if u want to be on it lmk! i also made a playlist if anyone wants to check that out :))

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/60Kll9HCoQru14J18bT21C

series masterlist

word count: 3.9k

warnings: language, suggestive stuff?, alcohol, smoking, emetophobia

Things are extremely awkward with Felix. He’s too nice to kick you out of Saltburn, yet he’s too prideful to apologize, so you two are stuck dancing around each other with small talk and short interactions.

Things with Farleigh, on the other hand, are surprisingly good. You never would have expected how close you two became in the past few days. In fact, you can’t remember the last time he insulted you, at least not in a playful way. You must have bonded over your shared dislike for Felix at the moment.

But for some reason, you worry if you get too close, he might push you away.

Tonight was dinner with all of Sir James’s friends, and as the Cattons tend to call them, the Henry’s. The actual dinner was full of awkward conversations with people much older than you about the future of your life and what you were going to do after graduating college. You actually had no idea what your plan was or what you wanted to do with your life. You used to push all the questions away and blamed it on the fact that graduation was pretty far away. It only recently dawned on you that you would be graduating in about two years. 

After dinner, you sit in the dimly lit living room with Farleigh on the couch as everyone else participates in karaoke. You and Farleigh snicker at some of the guests’ performances, whispering things to each other as if you are judges of some competition.

Eventually, Farleigh sighs and stands to his feet. “I’m going to go smoke,” He tells you, putting his hands in his pockets. He turns and looks at you expectantly. You take it as his way of asking you to come with him, so you stand up and snatch the bottle of wine you were drinking off the coffee table.

You follow him up the stairs, down the long, dark hall and eventually into his bedroom. He shuts the door behind you and draws out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one. “At least open the window,” You walk over to the window and open it to let the smoke out.

“Oh, right. Cause you hate the smell so much.” He rolls his eyes at you as he exhales some smoke. “Weren’t you the one that asked me for one of these the other day?” He points the cigarette at you and you glance down shamefully.

“Yeah. I wasn’t at my best, okay?” You shake your head and slump down to the floor, leaning against the wall and stretching your legs out.

“Okay, sure, miss goody two shoes.” He chuckles and sits down next to you. You take a swig from the wine bottle and sigh, leaning your head back.

“So, Felix…” Farleigh trails off and looks over to you. You continue staring up at the ceiling. “Can we not talk about Felix right now,” You reply, closing your eyes. “We need to,” He says, nudging you.

“What is there to talk about?” You ask, turning to meet Farleigh’s gaze. He presses the cigarette to his lips and inhales. “You said it yourself, that he only hangs out with me out of pity.” 

As he breathes out, the smoke passes over your face but you don’t care. “And what’s your problem with him? It seems like you’ve been waiting for someone to turn on him so you could join in,” You continue, and his eyes tell you that you’ve just read him like a book.

He quickly recovers and remains expressionless. “You’re projecting,” Farleigh responds. “Then why have you been so nice to me?” You ask.

The room goes silent and you are stuck in a moment where time doesn’t pass, it’s just you and Farleigh. His usual cold and dark gaze is replaced by something softer, warmer. Something in the air shifts and you can feel some kind of tension rising.

But then he looks away, breaking eye contact. “Because Felix is just stupid sometimes,” He finally replies, nodding toward the bottle of wine you are holding. You hand it to him and your fingers brush against his.

He takes a drink. “I don’t think he ever had bad intentions. He’s just an idiot,” You consider this. Maybe he’s just extremely out of touch with reality like the rest of the Cattons.

There’s a pause as you think of something to change the subject to.

“So… How about that Sadie girl?” You ask, turning to him with a grin. He gives the wine back to you and you take a quick swig.

Elspeth is, for some reason, attempting to set Farleigh up with a daughter of one of James’s friends. Her name is Sadie, and she is very pretentious and fake, from what you can tell. You hadn’t spoken to her, but you watched from afar as she and Farleigh engaged in a conversation.

“She’s alright,” He shrugs and stands up to press the cigarette out on his ashtray. He sits back down next to you and sighs.

“She was like, hardcore flirting with you,” You chuckle and observe his exasperated expression. “Oh, I know.” He smirks smugly and you roll your eyes.

“That’s weird, usually you hook up with someone the moment they show interest in you,” You smile at the way he frowns slightly. “That’s not true,” He furrows his eyebrows and glances at you. “Okayyy,” You say sarcastically.

A while later, you are still upstairs with Farleigh, but you are now feeling the effects of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. You both had gone downstairs to steal more booze, and you ended up drinking almost all of it. Your whole body feels tingly and warm, and your brain is fuzzy.

You run a hand through your tousled hair and sigh, turning to check if Farleigh is as wasted as you. He seems slightly better off than you, but his dark eyes are half lidded and glossy.

“Do you ever miss Sasha?” He glances at you, seeming surprised at your random question. Sasha is Farleigh’s ex from Oxford, who he had endured a tumultuous and rollercoaster ride of a relationship with. You had met her once or twice, she seemed kind, but slightly possessive.

“Sasha?” Farleigh repeats her name and takes a moment to process it. It seems like memories are returning to him and replaying in his head.

“Sometimes. But not really. She was crazy,” He raised his eyebrows and stared straight ahead. “You guys broke up and got back together, like, ten times,” You giggle foolishly and he turns to look at you, slightly offended by your amusement.

“It was too hard to keep up with,” You sigh after your laughter subsides. 

“I didn’t know you were keeping up,” You make eye contact once again with Farleigh, and this time his gaze is more intense. You can’t tell if it’s one of his usual sarcastic comments or if there was an underlying meaning behind his tone. Your face burns red with the realization that you had been studying his relationship so closely. But, really, everyone in your friend group knew about Sasha and Farleigh’s dumpsterfire of a romance. Break up, random hook ups, they said they love each other, then they argued again.

“It’s just.. what friends do,” You reply, your speech slurred. “Friends keep up with each other’s relationships.” You shrug and wave your hand as if to dismiss the seriousness of it.

“You consider me a friend?” Farleigh chuckles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, what if I do?” Your voice comes out softer than you intended. 

There’s another long moment of silence and prolonged eye contact between you two. The tension is so thick, you can feel it in the air and your heart pounds. It’s almost like you are waiting for who will make the next move. Your brain is all muddled and you can’t seem to think clearly.

Your eyes flicker down to his plush lips and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or not, but your instinct is to kiss him. You grab him by the face, a hand on either cheek, and pull him in, smashing your lips together sloppily. You pull away, shocked at yourself, dropping your hands into your lap as your lips hover over his.

You expect him to be disgusted and stand up and walk away, but there’s a slight pause before he is grabbing you and pulling you back in, kissing you almost aggressively. Like he’s been starved, like there’s not enough of you.

You squeak with surprise before you melt into him, softening as one of his hands travels down to your neck and the other settles on your waist. You both have to gasp for air in between sloppy kisses, but you don’t mind. Your heart races and your hands travel up into his hair, running your hands through his unruly dark curls. You find that you’ve been waiting so long to do that, to feel his hair in your hands.

He bites your lower lip and your eyebrows pinch together. “Sorry,” He mumbles, although his voice disappears into your mouth. You feel yourself losing balance and beginning to fall back onto the floor.

Before you know it, he’s on top of you, refusing to stop kissing you. It’s messy and you know you’re both drunk, but damn does it feel good. The tension feels like it’s being lifted off of you, and it’s relieving. You don’t know how long it will last but hell, you’re enjoying it. Both of his hands have moved to your hips and his fingers are pressing into you.

You feel his lips move from yours, moving down from your jaw to your neck. He’s kissing and sucking on your skin so passionately that you know you will have bruises tomorrow. You moan quietly and you hear him groan in response, his low voice vibrating against your neck.

You attempt to catch your breath as you suddenly feel something in your stomach, something unpleasant. Saliva begins to build in your mouth and it’s like you have an internal clock telling you how much time you have left before you absolutely hurl.

“Far-Farleigh,” You place your hands on his shoulders. You whimper and slightly push up on him. He glances up from your neck, staring up at you in confusion. You can’t deny that you enjoy viewing him from this angle, but you have other concerns at the moment.

“Gonna throw up,” You manage to get out before he’s rolling off of you, allowing you to get up. You clamber to your feet and scramble into the connecting bathroom, barely making it to your knees in front of the toilet before you throw up. 

You grip both sides of the toilet for support as you practically spill your guts, coughing loudly. You would have liked some help or something from Farleigh, but it seems like he has just left you here to deal with it yourself.

You groan and wipe your mouth, sitting up and staring straight ahead in some sort of daze. You eventually come to your senses and stand up, flushing the toilet. You feel dizzy so you grab onto the counter of the sink to not lose balance, catching your reflection in the mirror.

Your hair is very messy, and your mascara is slightly smudged around your eyes. Your cheeks are warm and rosy, but in an unflattering way. You look like a wreck. 

When you walk back into his room, he’s gone. You sigh in frustration and press a hand to your aching and pounding forehead. Somehow, you stumble back to your room and flop onto your bed. You managed to avoid the small number of guests left in the house, along with Venetia and Felix. You just want to get some sleep after the shitshow that just happened. And you know you’ll be paying for it in the morning. 

2 YEARS EARLIER

You, Felix, and some of your other friends were gathered at the pub on a Friday night. There was chatter and the smell of cigarette smoke all around you. Felix returned from the bar and handed you a tall glass of beer.

You were focused on Farleigh and the girl who sat on his lap. Her hands were all over him, and he seemed totally enamored with her. She had a short skirt on and her wrists were covered in bracelets. She was pretty, you had to admit.

“Who’s that?” You asked, glancing up at Felix and pointing to the two. “Oh, that’s Sasha.” He replied. “She’s obsessed with Farleigh. And from what I can tell,” Felix sat down, pulling his chair closer to yours, “He’s liking it.”

You chuckled and took a sip of your beer. “Good for him,” You said, shrugging. “Bet they’ve already fucked,” Felix remarked and you snapped your head towards him. “Ew, Felix. That’s none of your business.” You made a disgusted expression.

“What? Everybody shags around here, it’s no surprise,” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Except you,” He added, grinning and nudging you. You rolled your eyes and looked back towards Sasha and Farleigh.

You didn’t want to imagine them… doing that. But for some reason, your mind kept trying to paint a picture of it. You shook your head to clear your thoughts. 

You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you felt jealousy bubbling up inside of you. Why was it so easy for her to get what she wanted? You had liked a few men at Oxford, but you didn’t really even want a boyfriend or a commitment like that.

But as you watched Farleigh and Sasha’s hands intertwine, you felt envious.

“Hey, Felix, who was that guy you were going to introduce me to?” You asked, tapping your fingers against the table. “What? Oh, Joshua? I thought you said you didn’t want to meet him,” He replied. Felix was trying to set you up with one of his friends who seemed like a player. At this point, you didn’t care. It was like you were trying to prove that you could actually get a guy. Prove to who, though?

“I know. I changed my mind,” You said decidedly. “Well, he’s actually here tonight. Would you like me to go grab him?” Felix stood up and pointed towards the other side of the pub. You nodded. “Sure,”

You waited patiently and took a few swigs of beer for confidence. A minute later, Felix returned with a man who was a few inches shorter than him, with fluffy blonde hair and hazel eyes. Freckles were dusted across his nose and his skin was nicely tanned due to the warmer weather of spring. He looked sweet and innocent, but the rumors you had heard about him told you otherwise.

“Hello,” He greeted you, holding out his hand. You stood up to shake his hand, smiling as you introduced yourself. “Nice to meet you, I’m Joshua.” He grinned brightly and Felix seemed amused by the interaction.

“Hi, Joshua.” You tried to make a good first impression, although you weren’t good at this stuff. But it seemed like he was already interested, looking you up and down.

You both sat back down and began small talk about classes and life and friends. Felix left you two alone, but you’re not sure where he went. It was good, talking to someone new, but still a bit uncomfortable since you were so introverted. The conversation flowed nicely between the both of you.

You couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You glanced up, seeing Farleigh’s cold gaze drilling into yours, flicking back and forth between you and Joshua. It was like he was waiting to see who would break eye contact first, and of course, it was you. Your gaze faltered down to the table and then back up to Joshua.

“You alright, love?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh. You nodded and your face turned a shade of pink with embarrassment. “Sorry. Just thinking,”

“Hey, what do you say when we go back to my dorm? To just chill, relax, you know.” He tilted his head and you could already tell what he was implying. “Uh- Sure, yeah. Let’s go,” You smiled and stood up, grabbing your bag and walking past him toward the doors. He placed a hand on your lower back as you stepped by him.

You woke up the next morning unsure of where you were before memories of the night before came back to you. You were in Joshua’s bed, tangled up in the sheets, with your clothes off and scattered on the floor.

Your eyes widened as you realized you had lost your virginity to Joshua Brown. You sat up and scratched your head, not sure what to do next.

“Oh my God…” You whispered, looking down at Joshua, who was sleeping on his stomach, his face pressed against the pillow. It didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.

You stood up and winced as you realized you were a bit sore. You tried to be as quiet as possible as you picked your clothes up off the floor, hurriedly putting them back on.

Joshua stirred in his sleep and groaned, rolling over. You grimaced as you took your bag off of his desk chair, tip toeing to the door and opening it slowly.

You sighed with relief once you had closed his door behind you and you were safely out in the hallway. You know you probably looked like a wreck, but your main goal at the moment was to get back to your own dorm going unnoticed.

You heard your name being called, fairly close to you. You froze before turning to identify where it came from, and you swear your heart dropped to your ass. Farleigh was standing in the doorway of his room, which was conveniently right next door to Joshua’s, smirking at your frazzled state.

“You should work on keeping it down. I couldn’t sleep last night because I kept hearing you and Joshua.” He chuckled and you could feel your face heating up.

“Sorry,” You muttered, casting your glance downwards to the floor. 

“You finally got some after all,” He teased. “Can you shut up?” You groaned, facepalming and shaking your head. “Oh, I will if you can figure out how to,” He raised his eyebrows. “Was it really that good?” He questioned.

You considered the question. You didn’t really know if it was or not, you were just trying to be loud because you thought guys liked that. Were you satisfied by the end? No. But Joshua certainly was.

He seemed to notice your puzzled expression and he nodded. “Oh. So the rumors are true about him.” You tilted your head with curiosity. “What rumors?” You asked.

“Oh, you poor thing.” He cooed sarcastically. You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. “Well, you’d better get back to your place so you can study,” Farleigh mocked. “Make up for that time you lost last night, huh?”

“Can you just not tell anyone? Please?” You knew it was useless asking him not to tell. He had the biggest mouth in the whole class. He just snickered at your pleading and stepped back into his room and shut his door.

That night you hung out with Joshua in his dorm once more, but you told him you didn’t want to have sex again. He respected your decision, so you were just drinking some alcohol with him and making out occasionally.

“Yeah, I don’t really know what I’m going to do with an English degree. I just had to pick something.” He shrugged. You were talking about your futures after Oxford and what you were both majoring in.

“Hm. Well, there’s a lot you could do,” You replied, trying to reassure him, although you weren’t too sure yourself. “You could be-” Your sentence is cut short by a loud moan coming from the room next to you.

“Ah, shit. It’s Farleigh and Sasha again,” Joshua shook his head like it was a regular occurence. “They’re usually at it for a while,” He informed you. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Some odd, depraved part of you wanted to stay and listen. “No, that’s alright.” You shrugged. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

The walls seemed paper thin. You swear you could hear every little noise, like the bed springs squeaking and the wanton sounds that came from Sasha. But then you heard something different. It was Farleigh, whimpering and moaning in a way that you couldn’t even believe what you were hearing. You didn’t know men could make sounds other than grunting during sex, let alone sounds like that.

“Oh fuck,” You heard him breathe heavily and Sasha was practically screaming at this point. 

“Damn. They’re really getting into it,” You whistled and raised your eyebrows. Joshua nodded. “I wish I was as good as people say he is,” Joshua looked down. “What?” You asked as you tried to ignore the continuous noises. He was really telling you to be quieter earlier today?

“Farleigh. People say he’s really good in bed,” Joshua explained. You were surprised that he was okay with discussing this with you. “Oh.” You chuckled nervously. You didn’t expect that, but for some reason it made sense. “Was I bad?” Joshua asked suddenly.

You froze at his question and wondered if you should tell him the truth. “I mean… I don’t really… know the difference, you know? It was my first time, remember?” You told him. He nodded but you could tell he seemed hurt and defeated.

“Right,” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and you leaned back in your chair. You could say this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your life, having to listen to Farleigh fuck some girl while having an awkward conversation with the man you had a one night stand with.

The next day around noon, you were walking to a café near campus when you saw Farleigh walking ahead of you on the sidewalk of the cobblestone streets.

An idea popped into your head and you smiled mischievously, jogging to catch up with him. When you appeared at his side, he glanced down and made a face.

“Are you following me?” He asked, glaring at you as you fell into step next to him. “No. I just had a complaint,” You tried to hide the smile threatening your face. “What’s that?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Me and Joshua were trying to have a nice conversation last night,” You started, and his playful expression immediately dropped. “Maybe try to keep it down next time, right?” You grinned and he stopped in his tracks.

“You were there last night?” He seemed annoyed and a little bit shocked. “Yeah.” You nodded and stopped next to him. “I mean, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts,” You laughed to yourself and he narrowed his dark eyes at you.

“And it wasn’t even Sasha as much as it was you–” “Keep your mouth shut,” He ordered, and you knew you got a rise out of him. “Practice what you preach, that’s all I’m saying,” You waved and skipped along the sidewalk, leaving him standing there in shock.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld

[kooahae]

After Last Night: Work Visit

Read the previous drabble here.

Read the next drabble here.

Summary : something seems up with Jungkook so you go to his job to cheer him up.

Pairing: best friends to lovers, Jungkook X female reader 

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Big d!ck koo, oral (m.receiving) use of good girl bc well that’s what he called her the first time, office Jk is hot to me- he’s still a simp, cursing, swallowing, deep throating, they're down bad for each other as always <3

Word count:  2.5K

A/N: Before we get a little angst we have this and one more fluff drabble coming out hopefully this week- if not I’ll do my best to lyk when. School is kicking my ass but yeah me and my angsty babies will have our moment. I promise. As always thanks for reading 🩵

Minors DNI

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Today has been so long! Jungkook is beyond exhausted. He didn’t really want to be in the office at all today on top of it. He’s gotten used to working only 2 days in the office, and three at home due to his routine. The thought alone of his routine being disturbed pissed him off. Plus, He has been in serious work mode all week. He hasn’t even been able to just cuddle on the couch. You’ve been asleep the last 2 nights when he got home as well. You cuddle up to him like usual when he climbs into bed but damn, he’d do anything to just have a lazy day and not be in a rush to get up. 

Apparently, his employees can’t follow simple directions. He’s been stuck reprogramming a new app for what seems like forever. He swears if it didn’t pay the bills, and If he wasn’t so good at it- He’d find something else to occupy his time. He wishes he got paid for all the times you cross his mind, that would be a lot better than being here -and he’d be filthy rich! 

As Jungkook reaches into his pocket for his phone to call you, someone else rips his chance from him. 

You have got to be fucking kidding. 

“Oh, um..Mr. Jeon I just wanted to ask is it okay if I leave early today?” His assistant asks him. 

Jungkook has never been someone who was extremely strict. He knows he’s younger than most of the people working for him and he’s been cool about a lot of things because of that. However, that does not mean they can walk all over him. They take time away from you when they don’t do their job and also add more problems than solutions lately. He’s simply fed up. 

“Go into the meeting room and call everyone there please Duri.” He asks nicely, even though he doesn’t know why he keeps being so kind about it. 

“Oh…okay sir. Will do. But i-“

Jungkook really doesn’t care. He’s not trying to be mean but today has been a shit show. Things could be going better than this. That’s all he’s hoping for. 

“Duri…tell them they have thirty minutes. That means you too.” He points to the door, sitting his feet up on his desk. 

His assistant stares blankly, so Jungkook squints, points again and tilts his head. 

“By the time you’re done looking at me…There will be zero minutes.” He exhales placing his hands behind his head, as he watches Duri run out.

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Today you’ve decided to bring Jungkook lunch, he seemed so sluggish this morning. He gave you your good morning kisses but you can tell something is up. He didn’t even remember his banana milk. You’ve seen him do a lot of unusual things, but this weirdly enough takes the cake. The last time you even remember him acting like this, was when he swore he bombed an exam -He got the top score in his class, but that’s not the point. Jungkook genuinely only acts like this when there’s more work than he wants to do, or he feels burnt out. You know him the same way you know yourself, if not better. You have been thinking about him heavily today as well. You both could use a day off after this week, but life isn’t always that kind, you’ll just have to make do with your idea today. 

You get dressed in a shirt of his since he likes you in them so much, a cute skirt and some shoes.  Food and banana milk in tow, making sure you feed Bam on the way out. 

Once you arrive you can hear him giving what may be a motivational speech in the conference room. Jungkook is so cool in your eyes. He has his own business at 23, which he started two years ago. His gym side-venture is thriving. You’re almost there with him but not quite yet, starting your own media company is in the works though, and it’s nice to have his support. It still amazes you how Jungkook can make his mind so quickly with business decisions. He’s really intelligent- that’s exactly what you love about him. 

You realize you’ve been just standing in the entryway like a creep daydreaming about your boyfriend so you continue to walk forward and get closer to the door. 

“Can someone explain to me why everyone thinks they can just leave early while I reprogram everything? “

Oh. That’s why he’s so tired. 

You take note that no one responded, so there’s no reason he should have been left to do everything. He’s absolutely right. Your poor baby. you know how much of a perfectionist he is as well. He deserves some rest too though.  You decide to keep listening. 

“We’re supposed to be a team so I treat you fairly but this isn’t fair…I have someone waiting at home for me too.” He says. 

That person is you- and that makes your heart do backflips, the butterflies in your tummy rise, and a smile creep upon your face. You now know why he’s been so out of it lately. He’s doing a lot of hard work, barely gets as much time home as his employees and he just misses spending time with you. You’ll definitely visit work more when he can’t be at home with you if it makes him feel better.  You miss him too whenever you’re separated. It’s really refreshing to know he feels the same. 

As for Jungkook. His heart is kind of heavy. He knows it hasn’t been that long but he’s really been stressed out lately, the past two weeks at work have been hell and he feels like he can’t catch a break. He just needs to be with you, somewhere he can relax. With someone who is his comfort place. 

“Starting today we all do our delegated parts. I do mine. You do yours. We talk to each other about things beforehand that could affect other people’s schedules. Understood?” He asks. You can tell he doesn’t want to be that guy, but he also knows he’s been too nice until now. 

“If you do your part I don’t care what you do afterward if you wanna go home so be it. But finish your task.” 

He looks so withdrawn and tired. Watching everyone give him a head nod, you decide to just go sit in his office while he dismisses everyone. 

He walks in completely irritated and immediately starts patting for his phone but then looks up to see you. Sitting on the loveseat in his office. Smiling and waving hello to him. The sun from the window lightly shines on you. You look like what you are- his angel. 

“Hi, handsome!” You stand up and walk towards him. 

“You’re really here? Like I’m not going crazy because I missed you?” He says waving his hand in his own face. 

He’s always so silly. You hug his waist. Your face in his chest. He immediately hugs back. He doesn’t know how you knew he needed you, but he doesn’t care. He just appreciates the fact that you always show up for him. You always have. 

“No, but you’re checking your hand silly to make sure you’re real. Instead, you should be kissing me to make sure I’m real…” you say peaking your head up and poking your lips out. 

“You’re so cute. “ He says leaning down to kiss you. Cupping your face in his hand. Lips smacking gently against yours. His kisses are so soft and feel divine. 

“I’m. sorry. I’m. not. home. “ he says a kiss between every word. 

You pull away and look up at him he’s still holding your face so you place a hand on his forearm.

“Don’t apologize for working. I’m glad you stood up for yourself and I’m even happier to be here with you.” You say and lean back in for another kiss. 

“How am I so lucky?” He says as you both finally pull away. 

“Makes two of us! I brought you lunch and even brought my laptop too.…”

Jungkook sits in his office chair and you climb on his lap. Straddling him. 

He immediately reaches for the remote that closes the blinds. Not that anyone can see his office from where they sit but just in case they thought of approaching him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck. 

“If you’re gonna be bored and have to be here, let’s be bored and overworked, responsible people together…” You say leaving a kiss on his neck. 

“…I can rub your shoulders while you code. You can fill me in on everything I missed this week.” 

He hisses at the sensation of your neck kisses. Hands running up and down your sides. 

“I really missed you.” He says and puts a finger on your chin to tilt your head to his. Kissing you yet again. 

Then he continues. “Don’t want to work, just want to be with you” He’s always pouting, so you do what anyone would do in your situation-Pull his bottom lip in, and suck on it gently then let it go with a pop. 

That’s when an idea pops into your head. 

Jungkook’s office is spacious, and you can tell he needs to decompress, so maybe you’ll …

“Don’t work then, let me do it.” You say and push the chair back a little bit so you can stand up. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “ Aren’t you supposed to do your work?”

“I will.” You say and he looks up at you. Standing in front of him with your head tilted- fucking cute, he also takes note of how you made sure to wear his shirt. 

“Baby you don’t really like coding… I tried teaching you before unless it’s a blog or something-“ you interrupt him. 

You place your hands on his thighs, hovering, still standing, and kissing him. 

“If I do a good job on it, we go home.” You state matter of factly. Almost like you’re making a deal, that you know you’ve won. 

He chuckles “Who’s work mine or yours?”

“Mmm it’s my task but…” Jungkook watches as your fingers dance closer to his crotch.  

“You’re the work.” You finish your statement dropping to your knees. 

You love the way he looks at you from above. Biting his lip and tilting his head slightly. 

Jungkook raises his hips so you can unfasten the button on his trousers.

“Gotta be quiet princess-oh shitt.” 

Jungkook’s head falls back as your hand strokes up and down his length. He knew he was the task- but if you’re about to suck him off here, his work day has had the best turn of events possible. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, okay?” he nods breathlessly, It’s interesting how you both have the same effect on each other. 

“Don’t you always.” He says rolling his head forward to watch you. His mouth is drawn out into an ‘O’ shape, You know how much eye contact turns him on and you haven’t broken it yet. He looks fucked out and you’ve barely done anything. 

You spit on his dick and move your hands up, your pumps are perfect and have him bring his lip more and more at the sensation. 

“Babygirl, I think that’s enough teasing.”

You shake your head no and look up at him through your lashes. 

“How can you look at me like that knowing I’ll rip your clothes to shreds if -Fuck.”  You don’t mean to interrupt him. You promise. You just really notice all the precum oozing from his tip and can’t help but put your mouth on it. Sucking on the head of his dick like the good girl you’ve shown him you can be. He deserves it though

If you kept teasing him, you knew he would edge you non-stop later as well - and you’re already soaking through your panties. 

As you look up at Jungkook once more, you slide his entire length in your mouth at once, His shoulders relax and his hand comes to your hair and moves it out of your face. 

He has a thing for visuals, you happen to be his favorite.  

You rest at the base and keep your eyes on him as you bob up and down. Jungkook is massive, He’s really impressed that you can take him the way you do, and suck him so effortlessly. All of it makes him hard whenever he thinks about it. This is going to be engraved in his brain forever. 

You finally lift up and Jungkook watches the drool from your lips that’s attached to his cock as well. 

You moan at the sight of how red, swollen, and slobbery you have his dick, before going back in for more. 

Jungkook’s moans have been turning you on, he sounds so good and it’s making you never want to stop as you suck the soul out of him. 

You start to moan too, rubbing your thighs together for friction.  He just looks so fucking good!  You could cum from the visual in front of you as well

“Look at you sucking my dick like a good girl, so fucking pretty!” He says gripping your hair up more so he can enjoy his view. 

You go all the way down once more, then tighten your lips as you come back to the head of his dick, moaning so he feels the vibrations go down his shaft. 

“Just like that baby.” He says encouraging you. 

You continue deep throating him, watching his knees get weaker even though he’s in the chair, he looks like he’s barely holding on. Fully concentrating on the way he looks at you with lusty eyes but can’t contain his moans. 

Your hand starts palming his balls as you feel him deep in your throat. 

“Fuck baby girl, I’m gonna cum soon- oh my fucking god!” He’s trying his best to be quiet. You really hope his coworkers can’t hear him, but a part of you doesn’t care as long as he feels better. 

Jungkook is close and you nonverbally ask him with the look you give him for confirmation, just to double-check. He’s panting and can barely answer you. 

“Y-ye-yes baby.” He finally manages to muster out. 

You swirl your tongue up and down as you continue deep-throating him. It’s all so sloppy and messy. Your eyes are a little watery too, but you won’t stop until you swallow every last drop. 

“Fuck fuck fuck.” His chants and breathing are erratic which means…

Jungkook pushes your head all the way down and bites his lip, looking at you as he cums all down your throat. It’s so warm and thick. You moan and feel his hand slip from your hair to your neck as he pushes himself further one more time.

He pulls all the way out and you gasp but stick your tongue out to show him you’ve swallowed every last drop. 

You rise to your feet and sit on his desk, but he stands all the way up and towers over you. Lips brush across yours before he leans into your neck and leaves a kiss right below your ear lobe. 

“I’d love to bend you over here but let’s go home. I want to hear you scream.”

 You don’t have to be told twice! 

So back home you go- the both of you. 

Taglist : @joyfulwobblerhoagieegg @diorh0seokie @jennafromhome @taesungx @kimber-kook @whoa-jo @kaiparkerwifes @yoonglesbby07 @bangtansoneyondanfan