#i will see people holding hands and laughing on the sidewalk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

number1mingyustan · 3 months ago

Text

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

#seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen angst #mingyu angst #kpop

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httpjungkookcom · 1 year ago

Text

CYBER BOY | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 12K, not bad!

Genre | Android! Jungkook x Grad Student! Reader, Fluff, Smut

Summary | Jimin, as much as you love him, is a major pain in your ass. After dragging you to his store against your will (literally) you end up with; the newly manufactured, eerily human Jungkook android model. He's so human, you begin to have questions.

Index | A lot of fluff, reader is terrified, Jungkook is a sweetheart, Jungkook is absolutely whipped, Jungkook is good at anything and everything you could think of, including pleasing you ;), soft smut, Jungkook just wants you to feel good

A/N | You don't really need to know the lore of Detroit Become Human, it's just briefly mentioned in the story. Cyber Life is basically a manufacturer of robots/androids, that's really all the background you need for the story. Enjoy! <3

Jimin’s very busy today talking your ear off. Well, more than normal you should say. Two weeks ago he scored this huge paid internship with CyberLife, a company that currently holds a monopoly over all other tech companies with its superior android manufacturing, innovative technology, and competitive prices that “Are to sure surpass your expectations.” He was ecstatic, going on about how maybe they’ll gift him an android as an intern present (spoiler alert, they did not.) Regardless, they pay him very well for an internship and he loves their technology so he’s still happy. Now, it’s something about a new android he’s droning on about.

“No, I don’t think you understand Y/n.” Jimin clarifies, walking alongside you on the campus pathway. “One in the entire world, only one is being made.”

“I understand plenty, Jim.” You genuinely laugh, side-eyeing him as he questions your intelligence. “I think I understood the first time you said there’s only one, and the second time, and the third, and now the hundredth.”

“And you don’t even want to see him?! I don’t understand!!” Jimin almost yells, wide eyes as he turns to you to emphasize his point.

Ever since Jimin scored the internship, you constantly refuse to ever step foot in the company. Mostly because you know Jimin would try to market to you, and he’s got a reputation for never getting told no. That’s the excuse you always gave, telling him off every time he’d talk about the “low low price of 4,999 dollars!” Secondly, the androids freak you out a bit. They’re hyper-realistic, all the way down to every single man-made eyelash on their face. You’re sure if you look close enough, you could probably see fake pores.

However, you don’t hate artificial intelligence at all, nor are you a part of the momentum-gaining group of “androids are stealing our jobs, and ruining society!” You suppose for you, it’s just how realistic they look, act, speak, and walk. Everything about them is human-like. Maybe if they had a Siri-sounding voice, or walked stiff, maybe you’d get behind the idea of owning one.

“You would try and get me to buy it, why are you saying him? You never do that Jimin?” You ask, laughing softly. “What, you got a crush on him?” You raise your brows, elbowing him with your hands remaining in your pockets, cold air waiting for the opportunity to bite at your skin.

Jimin scoffs in defense, pretending you offended him as he shoves you away. “We were told to market it as him because he’s so realistic most people apparently won’t know the difference.”

“…And you want me to buy that thing!?! An android that is so human you can’t even tell?!” You ask, feet stopping in their tracks. “Jimin, you’re out of your mind.” You roll your eyes, beginning to turn around, and instead, make your way to your apartment complex.

“Nooo, at least walk me to the store like always. This isn’t fair!” Jimin complains like a child, stomping his feet softly in the thin layer of snow that’s beginning to form on the sidewalk. “I just wanted to tell you because I think it’s interesting, I promise I won’t market him to you.”

“You’re a liar.” You turn back, unable to fight back the smile as you walk up to him. “Fine, let’s get going before it starts snowing harder. I’d hate for you to be covered in it and you ruin all your bots with the liquid.” Sticking out your tongue, Jimin mimics you as he does it back.

“It wouldn’t ruin them, c'mon Y/n. They’re waterproof.”

“Jimin.”

“Right, sorry sorry.”

Jimin stops talking about androids for the rest of the walk, instead beginning his daily oversharing session, as he vents about this mystery boy “Taehyung” he’s been seeing. Jimin claims he’s always on campus, everywhere, but you have yet to see him. Secretly, you’re starting to believe Jimin is making parts of him up. He wraps up the rant as you approach the door, “Anyways, he seems genuinely sweet. I think I’ll give it a chance.”

“Yeah, I also think he seems nice. Maybe it’ll be worth it.” You shrug, beginning to pull your arm away from Jimin’s where they’re interlinked.

“Just like…you should give our androids a chance.” You're dragged into the store before you can even get another word in, Jimin locking down extra hard on your arm in case you fight it. As the doors close behind the both of you, you finally give in. “That big box over there, that’s our new one-of-a-kind boy.” Jimin beams, walking you over to it. There’s only the logo of cyber life on the front, no model codes, details, or specifications anywhere to be seen.

“So, what’s he look like?” You ask, finally able to pry your arm away from Jimin’s chokehold.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know??”

“Exactly what I mean, I don’t know.” Jimin spits jokingly, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “CyberLife is keeping all the details under wraps, I suppose whoever gets him is the first to find out. Personally, I think it’s to see if people recognize it as an android if the owner takes him out into public.” The information feels like whiplash, as does the mixing of it, him, and owner.

“That is the freakiest thing I’ve ever heard.” You laugh. “So, how much is he going for?” You shrug as Jimin smirks at you, eventually punching his arm.

“What, you want him?” He earns himself another punch. “He’s not.”

“Jimin, what the fuck? Is this an empty box???” You're now beginning to think Jimin is fucking with you. Maybe a prank to see how gullible you are to the information he tells you, never really questioning his nerdy rants. “No characteristics, no price, let me guess, no name next huh?”

“Ding ding ding.” Jimin chuckles. “The model doesn’t have a name. He introduces himself to his owner one-on-one.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait wait wait, don’t you want to know how you can get him if he’s not for sale?” He coaxes you back to the box laughing the entire time as he speaks. Once again grabbing you so you don’t have a chance to run away, you’re left trapped. If the androids surrounding you in the store are already this realistic, you’re a bit afraid to see what’s in the box honestly. “Aren’t you at least a bit curious, an android not up for sale hm?”

“With the information you just gave me, it’s an empty box up for sale,” You complain, ready to go home and cozy up on the couch with this weather. It’s cold, wet, and you’re already slipping into your winter break laziness.

“It's a raffle.”

“Oh great.”

“I’ll enter you into it.” Jimin beams, running over to a computer behind the cashier counter. You groan loudly, beginning to follow him to stop his antics. “Uhm ma’am, employees only beyond this point.” Jimin changes his tone to his customer service voice, holding a hand in front of your face. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”

“Jimin, this isn’t funny. I’m going to kick your ass,” You complain, glancing over your shoulder to the large box behind you as if he’d pop out at any moment. “I don’t even want the opportunity to own him, people would probably kill others over him.”

“One moment, please ma’am,” He speaks, breaking up into laughter throughout his sentence. You’re helpless as you stand at the counter, watching in disbelief as he types in all of your information faster than the speed of light.

“I wish we never sat next to each other in Introduction to Computer Science.” You laugh, watching him click submit before making his way back to where you stand by the box.

“Raffle results come out tomorrow. That’s why I had to drag you here.” Jimin beams, “If you don’t want him, you can always give him to me.”

Faking a gag, you begin your way out of the store. “I'm going home, Jimin. I'm gonna be spending my winter break alone, android-less, binge-watching movies, so feel free to stop by.” You smile, waving to him from the door. Jimin inserts some snarky remark that you don’t really catch, rolling your eyes at him through the window regardless.

Doing exactly as you promised yourself, you all but melt into the soft bed you’ve been in a long-distance relationship with the entire semester. Now, you’re able to catch up with spring classes being an entire month away. You spend the rest of your afternoon double-checking that all of your assignments are in before allowing yourself to sleep. The next day, you begin your marathons, finally catching up on all the shows you said you’d watch. With a content sigh, you begin your second binge-watching marathon of the break. It’s cut short just one episode in, a small knock catching your attention. Following it, it’s your front door.

“Hi, Jimin, do you wanna-“ It’s not Jimin standing on the other side of the door, not at all. There are two tall men, with a big box placed in the middle of either one of them. “Oh, sorry. I was expecting someone else. How can I help you guys?”

“Is this the residence of Y/n L/n?” One asks, making your throat run dry as you glance at the box behind them. “If you could just sign off on your delivery, free of charge provided by the company.” Glancing down at the paper presented, CyberLife. Shaky hands sign a sloppy signature, the movers quickly move in and place the box in the middle of the walkway before rushing off. Closing the door behind you, you’re at a loss.

Wouldn’t they call you if you won? Or an email? Or mail? Who in their right mind just comes and delivers such an expensive and precious item without some sort of confirmation beforehand??? Your normally cozy and comfortable apartment suddenly feels too small with the box in it, another human-like thing occupying the space.

“Jimin?!” This has to be a prank, Jimin has to be laughing his ass off in this stupid box. With caution, you press an ear against the metal and try to hear laughing, snorting, breathing, anything. The box is white and blue, only confirming the high possibility of an android being inside. “Jimin, if you're in this box, I’m going to kill you for real this time.” You give a fair warning, pressing and pulling hard on the side handle. It opens smoothly, the door not even creaking once as you pull it open.

You jump hard as you peek into it, not Jimin. Definitely not Jimin. Hiding behind the door, you peek once more into the inside to take in the sight. He’s…pretty? Somehow his android skin is activated without even being turned on yet, hair styled with his bangs pushed back from his forehead. His nose is slightly large, but it fits his face perfectly. There’s a small mole underneath his lower lip that you think is an interesting addition to an android model.

With a hard beating heart that feels as though it’ll burst through your rib cage, you abandon your protection. There’s an owner's manual placed neatly in front of his body that you pick up with shaky hands. Activate your android by pressing on its led sensor for 10 seconds. It’s the longest 10 seconds of your life, heart hammering against your bones.

His eyes slowly peel open, blinking a couple of times as he takes in his surroundings. Human, scarily human. He’s careful of your reaction as he steps out of his box to not scare you too badly, pushing the door closed behind him to create more room in the small apartment. “Hello, I’m Jungkook.”

There it is.

You don’t answer, prompting him to continue introducing himself. “I’m a one-of-a-kind android that was beneficial for promotional purposes, but mainly I'm built to be the best companion possible for my owner. I possess old and new features that are designed to make the everyday life of my companion significantly better.”

“Jungkook?” You mumble, his name feels way too human. “What’s your full name?”

“Jeon Jungkook, from Busan, South Korea.” You could throw up everywhere, the realistic bot smiling softly as he stands in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. I’m Y/n. …you are an android, right? Do you mind if I, uh?” You gesture to his chest. Your brain is struggling to believe he’s an android and not some sort of joke sent to you. Jungkook happily obliges, removing his synthetic skin and popping open his chest panel. Stepping a bit closer, you can definitely confirm that they are CyberLife organs and blue blood. “Okay, sorry I’m just having trouble adjusting, that’s all,” You mumble, closing his panel for him.

“There is usually an adjustment period for new owners. Have you had another android in the past?” Jungkook asks, glancing around your apartment for any sign of one. He takes a couple of steps away from the box, feet making no noise despite being a giant piece of what is essentially machinery. Freaky.

“Oh, no no. It’s not that I’ve been against it, I just haven’t had the money or need for one I suppose.” You explain, feeling like you owe him an explanation as to why you don’t have an earlier model. “I’m a grad student, you see?”

Jungkook nods softly, gesturing to the couch for you to sit down. You follow, a bit confused as to what this could possibly be about. It feels as though he’s about to break up with you, making you laugh softly to yourself as you sit on the opposite side of the couch. “I’m not sure what needs you have, but just let me know and I will do my best to fulfill them. This can range from construction, gardening, cooking, cleaning, companionship, intimacy, etc.”

“Intimacy, what does that even mean in terms of an android?”

“Some androids are designed to carry out human wants and desires for sexual intercourse-”

“Okay, okay, sorry I asked.” You cut Jungkook off before he can give you the long, likely in-depth explanation of their usage. “So, what do you want to do around here? I mean it’s just me, so it’ll probably get pretty lonely unless you come to my classes with me.” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not very big but it’s comfortable, feel free to help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/n,” Jungkook answers, speaking like a true CyberLife android, a computer.

“God, it’s so weird.” You complain. “You look so human but act like you’re an android, so it’s just throwing me off.” You smile softly, watching as he smiles back. His smile is pretty, perfectly aligned teeth on full display. When he smiles hard, small wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes which you find oddly endearing. “Your LED also is barely noticeable, just all of it together tricks my mind into thinking you’re a human.”

“That’s how I was engineered, with that in mind.” He smiles, “I don’t think I’ll be mass-marketed due to how human my design is, it would likely cause unrest within society.” You nod along to that, it most definitely would only make the anti-android movement worse. “If you’d like, I can adjust my LED to be more of the stereotypical android look.”

“No, no that’s okay. I like you however you present yourself. But, can you change your hairstyle? It’s just a bit too CyberLife, fresh out of the package if you want to go out in public later on.” You shrug, once again feeling the need to explain to him. He does, switching through various hairstyles before deciding on one. It’s slightly longer, with soft waves making it look fluffier than before. It’s still just as dark, but it suits him.

“I can also simulate body modifications such as piercings, tattoos, scarification, split tongue, stretched lobes, whatever you would wish for me to look like,” Jungkook informs, once again sounding fresh out of the box.

“You do whichever ones you’d like, Jungkook. It’s your body, fake or not.” You smile, watching as he shuffles through the catalog of options in his head. A giant smile overtakes his face as he comes out with two face piercings, a couple of ear ones, and most notably his tattoo sleeve.

“Uhm, is this okay? I can always change my setting back if you prefer it-”

“It’s okay, Jungkook. We gotta get you out of your default settings, jeez.” You laugh. “I’m not really sure what to do now, I was watching a TV show if you’d like to watch it with me?”

“I’d love to.” He beams, watching as you jog into your room. (You forgot the name of it already, mind racing 1000 miles a minute with everything going on.) You come back out with blankets to hide it, handing him one as you set up the living room TV. “I’d also love to make you dinner while we watch, would that be okay?”

“Kook, YES. I don’t mind what you do unless it’s like actively punching holes in my drywall. Then maybe I’ll draw the line.” You joke, finally earning a laugh from him. It’s contagious, spreading over to you as you giggle along. You don’t think you’ve completely wrapped your brain around the fact that he’s one of a kind, purposely engineered to basically do anything and everything, and so annoyingly pretty as he sits in your small apartment content as ever. “Also, I’m not sure if you notice, but your footsteps make almost no noise. It’s okay to make sounds. I think if you walk around here completely silent you'll probably scare the shit out of me.”

“Noted.” Jungkook chuckles, sliding off of the couch and making his way into the kitchen. He makes more noise this time, and it’s much more comfortable that way. The soft knocking of pots and pans fills the background, not enough to be annoying but enough to let you know there is someone else here. Maybe, and you’d never ever admit it to Jimin, his addition to your home is starting to feel like it will be a welcomed one.

Getting used to having another person, an android, in the house is a learning experience. The following morning after he was delivered, you had completely forgotten all about him in your half-awake state. After using the bathroom, your feet shuffle out into the kitchen in search of any sustenance before you start the day, Jimin already texting you to ensure you guys are still on for your morning coffee run and walk to the CyberLife store.

“Good morning, I made you-”

You’ve never screamed so loud, so early in the morning. You’re sure you woke up all of your neighbors in a 5-door radius, along with the incoming noise complaint that is surely on its way. You screamed so loud that Jungkook has to recalibrate his audio processing system, standing still for multiple minutes as it reboots.

“Sorry, sorry Kook.” You cackle after the initial fright, hands holding your stomach as you almost cry from laughter. “Adjustment period, remember when you said that?” You laugh harder, making your way over to him. Jungkook laughs softly along with you, not nearly as hard but he feels happy seeing you so happy. He grins hard as you wipe away your tears, your stomach hurting from just how hard you're laughing. “Okay, okay, that’s enough. I have to stop.” With another glance at Jungkook in the kitchen, you’re cracking up again.

“Y/n! I thought I’d be nice and make you breakfast!” Jungkook whines as you continue laughing at him, unable to hold it back for longer than one-minute intervals. You slowly calm down over the course of the next 10 minutes, forcing yourself to not think about it. “Anyway, I made you a breakfast sandwich. I’m not sure if you have anything to do today but-” Jungkook stops talking as he notices your chest heaving, trying hard not to laugh. “Are you-are you serious?? You can't even look at me huh?” Jungkook cracks, smiling hard.

At this point, there are tears rolling down your face. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, I’m done for real this time. Just had to get it out of my system.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Jungkook jokes, putting the plate in front of you regardless of you continuing to giggle every now and then.

“I’m not sure what you’d like to do today, but I’m gonna go out with a friend for a bit. There’s not much to do here, I’m normally used to being out all the time, but there’s Netflix, Hulu, Disney, whatever you’d like to watch.” You talk in between bites, rushing as you inhale the food. You get ready quickly, awkwardly side-hug Jungkook as a goodbye, and rush off to meet up with Jimin.

Jimin is as ecstatic as ever, going on and on about who he thinks got the android in yesterday’s raffle. He gets his hopes up a bit before going to the store, coming up with the idea that maybe no one won and he’ll be unboxed today. Nerves flood throughout your body, your mind thinking back to the sweet boy that made you breakfast this morning. “Anyway, what’re you up to today?” Jimin sighs after his excitement, strolling along the sidewalk with his drink in hand.

“Probably a bit of holiday shopping, and hanging out with a friend-”

“A friend?! Who? Do I know them?” He interrupts you, immediately questioning.

“No, no I don’t think you do. He’s a family friend of my mom’s side-”

“HE?”

“I hate talking to you.” You laugh, no longer feeling the need to continue talking about it. You ignore Jimin’s prying questions, favoring dismissing all of them. What’s he look like? Where’s he from? Is he cute? What’s his name? Is he nice? Jimin brings up anything and everything. “Okay, we’re here, oh noooo.” You chuckle, pretending to be disappointed.

“I’ll find out eventually.” Jimin sticks his tongue out at you before entering the store. He’s beyond disappointed that the box is no longer sitting in the store, texting you about it as you walk home.

Coming home, you’re a bit more prepared as you enter your apartment, spotting Jungkook in the living room. The upcoming week is your adjustment period, slowly becoming less and less spooked by his presence in your cozy home. Jungkook has learned to turn down his hearing slightly in the mornings until you get used to him, no longer having to re-coordinate his processing system constantly. You’ve also warmed up a lot to him over the week, the sweet android quickly becoming a part of your everyday life and holding a fond place in your heart. You’ve made movie nights become a ritual, cuddling up to Jungkook on colder nights. (He’s aware and even adjusts his systems to make himself put out more heat for you.)

Jungkook is also the best listener you know, listening and taking in all of the stories you’re willing to tell him. He knows a lot about Jimin, as you seem to hang out with him the most. He had dumbly asked if he was your boyfriend, sending you into another laughing fit you were unable to stop. Along with this, he’s started accompanying you out more. Jungkook comes on grocery runs with you, goes to the library with you, goes to the nearby cafe you frequent, and even begins joining you on nights out at clubs. It’s scary how no one realizes he’s an android and doesn’t even bat an eye at him even in android-free spaces.

Most nights out, Jungkook has to fight you into bed in your tipsy state. You appreciate him for it, and all of the patience he shows you. “Y/n, let me take off your makeup.” Jungkook giggles softly, sitting on the edge of the bed as he holds a makeup wipe in his hand. He’s carefully holding your ankle in his palm, keeping you from sliding head first off the bed if you move too much. As you shuffle around to better lay on the bed, he no longer needs to restrain you. Currently, you have the spins, holding onto Jungkook’s clothes in a death grip to ground yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at you. “It’ll just take two seconds, come here.”

You finally oblige, shuffling around to place your head in his lap. “Do your worst, pretty boy.” You slur slightly, smiling up at him.

“Pretty boy?” Kook raises a brow at you.

“Mhmm, my pretty boy.” You nod, wearing a soft smile as Jungkook wipes your makeup off. “You wanna sleep with me?”

“Sorry?” Jungkook almost chokes on his fake spit.

“You’re warm, come, lay down.” You coax him, pulling him down. You’re not laying on the bed the right way at all, heads laying at the foot of the bed. You’re also slightly diagonal, not caring at all as you cuddle close to him for warmth. Jungkook smiles hard as you nuzzle into his chest, one of your legs swinging over his. “Warm, soft.” You hum. You get the best sleep of your entire life, and it now becomes a normal thing for Jungkook to lay with you.

You learn a lot about him during this time as well. One, Jungkook can taste and eat as his program allows him to. He doesn’t need to at all, but once again he was built for companionship and he can’t think of anything sadder than people eating meals alone. You had learned this when Jungkook offered to eat with you, confusing you to hell and back before actually explaining. Now, you always make him get something when you guys go out in public, to really sell the whole he’s just a human drinking his overpriced cafe drink!! Considering other androids don't eat or drink anything other than blue blood, it really adds to his non-android appearance.

Two, he’s been programmed to be good at absolutely everything.

Personal fitness: Jungkook is more than happy to accompany you on jogs, encouraging you but also giving you the peace of mind you need when running through rough parts of town. Along with this, he somehow is able to calculate your strides and distance, which you believe blindly and don’t even question. Lastly, he’s able to carry water and electrolyte snacks that he claims are good for you when you’re physically active. When you refuse to drink, Jungkook jokingly wrestles you into submission until you take at least one sip.

Cooking: Jungkook has taken to making all of your meals, and you’re not even upset about it. Every meal is different but just as delicious, you assume he has some sort of chef programming. When you don’t have an item Jungkook needs, he’s more than willing to go out and get it for you. You’re a bit too anxious to send him on his own, but in reality, he’d probably be okay given his appearance. Despite taking over cooking needs, if you’re lucky he sometimes lets you help out with baking holiday cookies. Jungkook still takes to distracting you, twirling you around with a giant smile to the music playing in the background.

“Kook,” You whine, a giant smile plastered on your face despite complaints. You can feel Jungkook smile as he tucks his face into your neck, one hand holding your waist and the other taking your palm into his own. “The cookies will burn.”

“They still have 3 minutes, don’t worry hun.” Jungkook smiles hard, pulling back to look at you. You match the cheek-aching smile, forced to twirl as Kook easily spins you. Getting carried away, the cookies did slightly burn in the oven.

Makeup (yes, even makeup): Jungkook had offered to help you get ready for a research-related conference, let’s just say you got a lot of compliments that night.

Cleaning: You tell him constantly he doesn’t have to spend his days cleaning, but he listens very minimally and still picks up for you every day. Sometimes he tries to hide it from you, placing a very strategic piece of laundry on your floor to give the illusion that he didn’t clean. (It never works how he intends, once there was a random towel in the hallway while every other room was completely spotless. He was embarrassed about it the whole day.)

Security: He’s not a fighter under any circumstances at all, you can’t even imagine Jungkook getting into an altercation. You suppose he could if he needed, it’s likely somewhere deep in his programming. However, it’s the peace of mind he brings to you every night, you no longer deal with the worry of if your door is locked 1000 times.

Helping with your Grad assignments: Kook is a very advanced computer, how can you not?

And just simple companionship on days you’re worn down and tired. On days when you're very stressed out, he happily does your skincare to help you relax along with a small massage he knows from, who knows, somewhere deep in his computer brain.

“Kook, can you really take your time today, I need the relaxation.” You chuckle, grabbing all of your products and walking out of the bathroom. Jungkook follows, confusion growing even more as he watches you lay down on the floor with a pillow.

“....What are you doing?” Jungkook chuckles, standing over you a bit as he peers down.

“Come, sit, sit.” Without any more questioning, Jungkook sits with his legs slightly separated. You move to lay in between them, pillow on his lap. Ohhh, he sees now. Jungkook pulls out all of the stops he can with the tools provided, doing your skincare and giving you a massage. “Holy shit, you’re good at this.”

You suppose the only thing you’re unsure of with his skills is his intimacy feature, as you haven't had any reason or want to test it. You’ve been curious about the extent of the features, Jungkook is more than happy to once again explain all of his programming to you. Artificial saliva, physically soft skin, artificial bodily fluids, flexibility, shapes created with pleasure in mind, etc. The list goes on and on. He was also more than happy to offer his services to you, bright-eyed and excited about your reaction. You postpone the offer, maybe another time. At this, Jungkook begins his lecture about how it’s detrimental to one’s health to be sexually frustrated for too long that you put an end to, as quickly as possible.

You haven't introduced Jungkook to Jimin quite yet, a bit scared Jimin would immediately clock your android counterpart as exactly that, an android. You have to explain this to Jungkook, who wants to meet Jimin more than anyone else since you seem to be such great friends. He understands the dilemma but still wants to meet regardless.

Maybe four weeks into the break, there’s a knock on the door that catches Jungkook’s attention more than yours. You’re busy getting tangled in the Christmas tree lights that are impossibly knotted, Jungkook trying to help out as much as he can. He’s hesitant after accidentally pulling one of the cords and almost swiping your feet out from underneath you. “Can you go get that please, Kook?” You mumble, lights somehow wrapped around your waist, legs, and neck. Jungkook scurries to do as he’s told, not wanting to take over lights for you.

You can hear the door creak open, followed by a period of silence. “Who are you??” Your hands stop moving, eyes blown wide as you glance over to the door. Shit shit shit.

“Hey Jimin! Come in!” You call from the living room, still hard at work at making the lights cooperate with you. You pray to god he doesn’t see you sweat. “I told you about him, remember? He’s in town for a while on an internship. Jimin, this is Jungkook, a family friend. Jungkook, this is Jimin.” You introduce the two of them. Jimin turns around to face Jungkook, Jungkook quickly catches your eye contact. You mouth to him to turn his LED off completely, which he follows.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles wide, garland hanging down from his arms as he shakes Jimin’s hand. Jimin shakes his hand back, turning back to you.

“Y/n! You didn’t tell me said friend was so hot!” Finally, the atmosphere breaks as all of you laugh along with each other. The entire interaction is based solely on the assumption you have that no one has seen Jungkook’s design, including Jimin. He doesn’t seem to clock Jungkook immediately, joining in on your and Kook’s journey of setting up the decorations. Jimin gets ornaments in order, Kook garland, and you get lights. Next, you all take turns walking around the tree stringing everything up. The star is the scariest part, Jungkook insists on just lifting you to place it atop the tree.

Jimin laughs his ass off the entire time, watching as Jungkook wraps his arms around your thighs and easily lifts. “Jungkook, my ass is in your face.” You laugh, wobbling slightly as you cackle. Jimin also laughs hard at this.

“I’m not looking, promise.” This only makes the group of you laugh harder. Jimin looks at Jungkook to check the accuracy, falling to his knees as he sees Jungkook’s head at a 90-degree angle looking sideways. “Put the star on!” Jungkook calls, laughing softly. Thankfully, you come down unscathed and unharmed. You all settle in, putting on holiday movies to watch.

“Do you guys want hot chocolate?” You ask, already getting up and making your way into the kitchen to start making them.

“I’ll help.” You send Jungkook a hard glare, seating him back down. “Ugh, fine. You never make mine right though.” He complains, sitting back down and grabbing his blanket once more. You can see him and Jimin talking, but you’re unable to hear it over the movie. Walking back in slowly, you cautiously carry three mugs.

“Here, you big baby. Hot chocolate with extra chocolate and whipped cream.” You hand Jungkook his and then Jimin's. “And regular for you like an adult.” You watch as Jungkook sticks his tongue out at you, making you laugh as you sit down.

“Extra chocolate? Kook, do you mind if I taste yours?” Jimin asks, scooching forward to reach over you. Jungkook mumbles something about wanting his whipped cream, quickly licking the majority of it off the top before handing it over. Jimin glances down at the cup before taking a sip, nodding his head. “Y/n, can you make mine like that next time?”

“Wow.” You laugh, rolling your eyes as you return your attention back to the movie. The night continues without much more commotion, the group of you watching movies and taking turns making cocktails. Jungkook purposely dumbs his down to hide himself, relief washing over you as you’re handed a simple mixed drink. (Jungkook can and will make the most elaborate, bartender-level drinks you’ve ever seen.) Maybe he’s not as clueless as he pretends to be.

“I think I should get going, gotta get up early in the morning.” Jimin yawns, standing up and stretching. “I won’t make you come get coffee with me since I have to be at work at 6 am.”

At this, you recoil. “So generous, Jimin. I definitely would not make it there at 5:30.” You laugh, getting up off the couch to walk him out. “Do you want us to walk with you, it’s a bit late Jim.”

“...Tae is picking me up.” You gasp as Jimin opens the door. Jimin slaps a hand over your mouth. “And NO! You can’t meet him tonight, I have to at least give him a warning in advance.”

“I hate you.” You sigh, jokingly shoving him out of the door frame. “I’ll see you soon, loser. Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe and so I know this weird, unknown, creepy Taehyung that I’ve never met didn’t kidnap you or something.” Waving goodbye to Jimin, you can finally breathe as you shut the door. “He’s skeptical of you.” You huff.

“I know.” Jungkook mumbles, “I think the hot chocolate and drinks convinced him, though. He stopped being skeptical after that. Now, he’s skeptical and thinks we’re dating.”

You don’t know how Jungkook can tell, but you believe him. With a long sigh, you return to the couch, plopping down back onto the blankets. “He’s too skeptical about everything.” You laugh. Kook follows you into the living room, laying down on top of you. “He wouldn’t care that you’re an android, Kook.” You reassure him, “I just don’t want that to be your description and introduction to people we meet.” Jungkook nods in agreement.

After the small bout with Jimin, Jungkook settles in very well over the course of December.

He makes breakfast, wishes you a safe trip before your departure if you’re doing somewhere without him, sometimes earns himself a peck on the cheek that makes him blush bright red, picks up around the apartment or organizes, and then just hangs around until you get home. He genuinely believes you getting home is the best part of his day, can’t even imagine a better person to wait around for. Sometimes you guys will go out for the evening if you’re not tired, other nights you both stay in and watch tv or movies cuddled close together.

For once, you’re not spending the holidays alone. Over the last couple of years, you had always gone over to Jimin’s apartment for company if he was still in town. Other times, you just spent the holiday watching movies. “Merry Christmas Eve, Kook.” You hum, sitting close to him with your head resting on his shoulder. Your knees are folded underneath you, facing Jungkook’s lap but not on him. Jungkook rests his head on yours, a blanket tossed over both of your laps. You’ve already made cookies and Jungkook started cooking ahead for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. Jungkook has been scolding you constantly for making him do dumb childish Christmas activities, cookies for Santa, carrots for reindeer, etc. You think it’s cute.

“Merry Christmas Eve, pretty girl.” Jungkook hums back, reaching over to hold your hands. He’s taken to calling you pet names, making you blush furiously every time.

“Do you want an early Christmas present?” You smile hard at him, glancing up at him.

“Is that even a question?” Jungkook giggles, watching as you jump off the couch and immediately sprint into the bedroom. He can hear loud rummaging, and he’s about 99% sure you’re in the closet. You come out with a medium-sized gift bag, presenting it to him. Placing it in his lap, you watch with a giant smile as he opens it. Somehow, he reaches underneath his set and instead pulls out your matching pajamas. “Y/n, I don't think these will fit me.” He chuckles.

“How do you go underneath the top thing?” You scoff, snatching them out of his hands and quickly hiding them behind your back. Kook chuckles softly as he finally pulls out his set, a giant smile plastered on his face as he examines it. “And, I also have one. So we can match.” With loud laughter, you and Jungkook begin sprinting to the hall. You duck into your room, and Jungkook disappears into the bathroom.

Your heart feels heavy with emotion as Jungkook steps out of the bathroom on the other side of the hall, you stand in the doorway of your room. “Y/n, thank you.” Jungkook mumbles, voice wavering a bit as he reaches out and takes your hand in his. You could cry as he pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for everything.”

“C'mon now, don’t get all sentimental Jeon.” If you get any more sentimental, you’ll cry. “You’re not going anywhere for a while.”

“I wouldn’t even think of it.” He smiles, leading you back to your Christmas movie marathon in the living room. Watching movies for the rest of the night, Christmas comes before you even realize it.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook speaks softly, once again kissing your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, my sweet boy.” You kiss his cheek in return, fighting the blush away.

Christmas is exactly what you’ve dreamed of, eating together, watching movies, opening gifts, setting up and playing with said gifts, and spending plenty of time cuddled up together. For Jungkook’s gifts, you got him a game system and a phone to keep him busy once the spring semester starts in a couple of weeks. Jungkook’s quick to input your number, demanding it as soon as it comes out of the box.

“Are you ready for your presents?” Jungkook smiles.

“Am I huh?” You question, raising a brow. You weren't expecting anything since Jungkook is an android, and therefore is unable to work unless it’s programmed into him. Along with this, he hasn’t asked you for any money within the last couple of weeks. “How, Kook?” You mumble as he comes out of your apartment's small storage closet with gifts, a bright smile on his face.

“I maybe, maybe not, went out and did college kid’s homework and assignments for cash.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, avoiding the look you give him. He’s lucky he’s so sweet and kind, otherwise, you’d scold him to hell and back for it. At least he was able to get around without being clocked as an android, you choose to look on the bright side. He sets the prettily wrapped box in your lap, yet another thing he’s good at. It’s a new bookbag and a recipe book, Jungkook’s pretty handwriting, and little doodles filling the pages. There’s a card in the bag, you already know it’s going to be sentimental and doubt you’ll be unable to read it without crying.

As you suspected, you’re in tears by the end of the card. You sniffle hard as you press it against your face, hiding your tears from Jungkook. “Nooo, don’t cry. That wasn’t my intention.” Jungkook coos at you, wrapping you in his arms with ease. “Your bookbag seemed to have a lot of miles on it, I figured I’d get you a new one for the upcoming semester. The recipe book is in case you ever want to cook for me, since you always complain about never being able to make me dinner.” Jungkook explains. “And the note is just my gratitude, I suppose.”

“I told you no more sentimental stuff.” You chuckle, wiping your tears off your face as you turn to properly hug him. “Sorry I didn’t write you a card, I didn’t even think of it.” You mumble.

“I don’t need a card, trust me,” Jungkook speaks softly, kissing your cheek where a tear stain still remains. “Do you wanna get back to our movie?” With a nod, Jungkook is quick to put it back on and pull you close to him, allowing you to lay on his chest. The movie begins to wrap up, your mouth opens before you can rethink it.

“Kook?”

“Hm?”

“Do you wish you were human? Or do you wish you were given to a different owner?” You ask curiosity just genuinely wanting to know his answer.

“I’m not sure, really. I suppose being a human has a lot of rules for socializing, existing, and everything else. I know I’m not a human, but it does feel like I am so I suppose that’s close enough for me to be content.” Jungkook explains, shrugging softly as he holds you to him. “And I don’t wish I was given to another human, I really like it here. I think if I were with anyone else, they’d likely treat me like an android and expect me to, idk, act like one. That seems like a stupid question, given my completely sincere and heartfelt letter.”

You giggle, nodding to agree with him. “Yeah, probably. It’s easy to expect you to act like a perfect android when that’s how you were marketed, after all.” You giggle, sitting up to peer down at him. Your hands rest on his chest to support some of your weight. Jungkook is very pretty, even prettier peering up at you with eyebrows slightly scrunched together. “I still just can't believe you’re an android, Kook. Sometimes I don’t think about it and just see you as a person. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, always.” Jungkook grits as he stares up at you.

“You’ve been using I think and I feel, Jungkook.” Jungkook tenses hard underneath you, fear momentarily flashing across his face. “CyberLife programming doesn’t do that. Were you built with a missing code, or did you break your coding when you got here?” You ask softly, hands meeting his face and gently holding it in your palms. Jungkook seems scared, fighting for an appropriate answer to your question. “I like it, Kook. I was hoping this would happen, but I wasn’t going to try and recode or reprogram you myself. I just want to know. Your note was also a dead giveaway, Jeon.”

“...I broke out of it partly when I got here and you started asking me to just be myself and not be my program.” Jungkook answers truthfully, “And then I broke out of it completely when it wouldn’t let me feel love for you, platonically or romantically. I didn’t like it, so I got out.”

You smile hard at him, rubbing the stress out of his face softly with your thumbs. Leaning forward, you place a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, Jeon.”

Jungkook’s hands meet your knees on the couch, holding onto them as you sit on his lap. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable Y/n,” Jungkook almost whines underneath you, squeezing your knees. “But my programming, it’s uhm, on, right now. I can’t really control it just yet, it's created to react to your actions and body. And you’re, uhm moving a lot right now. Just give me a minute to-”

“...What if I want to, maybe, utilize these features?”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook whines, hands coming up to cover his face momentarily. His head pushes itself back into the throw pillow he was resting on. You smile as his hair spreads out around his face as he does so.

“Only if that’s what you want too, Kook.” You mumble, shuffling slightly to better distribute your weight on his lap. Jungkook genuinely whines, his hips bucking slightly against your own as he searches for friction. You rise to your knees slightly at this, Jungkook quickly moving his palms to seat you back down. His warm hands splay across your thighs and finger tips digging at your hips, holding you down. Excitement bubbles deep in your chest, knees squeezing Jungkook’s waist a bit tighter. “Kook, I can feel you.” You whine as his hands press your hips into his, the pajamas much thinner than you realized before. “I need words, Jungkook, for confirmation.”

“Y/n, I’ve been offered my services for weeks. I have been out of my program for weeks as well,” Jungkook grins, hands sliding, moving your hips to grind down onto him. “There is nothing I want more.” He answers honestly, sitting up to meet you. “Please, let me make you feel good.” Jungkook meets your lips, extremely soft as he kisses you. He waits for you to respond, too scared of making you uncomfortable by moving too quickly. Kissing him back, Jungkook is quick to pull you close, chest pressed flush against one another.

His eyes quickly meet yours as you pull him back softly by his hair, searching your face for any discomfort as quickly as his computer brain can process human emotion. You don’t give him much, your eyes scanning across his features as you take them in. “I just wanna see my pretty boy, that’s all.” You reassure, pecking his lips a couple of times as you guide him to lay back down on his back. He happily lets you do as you please, god he’d let you do anything. His eyebrows knit together as your cold hands slip underneath the pajama top, easily slipping it up and off. Jungkook is quick to follow, tossing your top off before quickly pulling you down to him, warm skin pressed together. “So warm, Kook.” You mumble against his lips, your hands finding purchase on his biceps.

“So soft, you’re so soft.” Jungkook groans against your lips, hands kneading your skin underneath them as he explores every inch of exposed skin. He rubs goosebumps away every now and then, holding you even closer. “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl. Lay back for me." Jungkook's voice is husky, lips never fully leaving yours as he talks to you. You follow his instructions, moving to lay on your back as he quickly follows. You’re completely flipped now, Jungkook in between your legs as he leans over you.

His palms never leave you longer than it takes to remove clothing, lips working their way along your jaw. “So perfect for me, just for me. Always wanna be with you, Y/n.” Jungkook almost babbles into your skin, leaving dark marks in his wake. Sooner than you can comprehend, you’re completely bare before him.

“Kook, this feels unfair,” You complain, reaching to pull at his pajama pants.

Jungkook basically rolls his eyes at you, pulling at his pants and kicking them off behind him, not paying much attention and basically clearing the coffee table. “Would you just focus?” He smiles, having to bite back a soft laugh.

“You just swiped everything off the coffee table.” You comment dryly, also having to bite back a laugh at the situation. “You know, you’re literally a house robot, you’ll be cleaning it up-fuck,” Jungkook isn’t listening anymore, sliding down to his torso and nipping at your thighs.

“You were saying?” He humors you, diving in before giving you a real chance to answer his question. It’s impossible to talk, mewls and whines slipping through every time you try to come up with some witty, snarky response. Jungkook, smug, knows that. He’s unrelenting, face buried in between your legs with no signs of moving.

“Kook, how are you, fuck, so good at this?” You whine, hands reaching down to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer to you. Jungkook, at the pull, groans, animalistic as he gives you exactly what you want. “Kook,” You mumble, hips lifting off of the couch to grind against him.

“Yes, there you go, pretty girl.” Jungkook groans against your skin. You push and pull, moving him exactly how you need, how you want. Jungkook, ever eager to please, could get off on this alone. His hips unconsciously grind against the couch, needing some sort of relief, it’s almost torture. “Gotta get you ready, feel good, hm?” Jungkook asks softly, vibration shooting straight to the knot in your stomach. One that only tightens as his fingers move, easily sliding inside, kneading at exactly where you need him.

“Is this a programming thing?” You whine, clenching tightly around his fingers from the pleasure. He knows exactly what you need, exactly how to give it to you.

“It's wanting to please you.” He answers quickly, going right back to his work. He can feel you react as you grow closer, clenching tighter around him, grinding harder against his face, thighs closing in around his head. “Feel good, hm?”

“Too good,” You whine, legs beginning to shake as you draw closer, body on fire. “You’re going to make me cum, gonna cum for you.” Your voice cracks, coming unraveled on his fingers. Jungkook relishes in it, committing every sound to memory, every shake, every twitch of your thighs around his head. He groans as he tastes you, tastes it, arms wrapping tighter around your hips to hold you in place.

“Kook, need more, need you,” You whine loudly, hands reaching to his shoulders to pull him up. He follows, moaning softly when your legs wrap around his waist.

“Need it, or want it?” He asks, kissing along your skin, “Take it pretty girl, take all you want.” Jungkook leads, softly pulling you up to straddle his hips. Kook pulls at his boxers, helping you maneuver around to get more comfortable. “Gonna let you lead, make yourself feel good.” It all feels like too much, body on fire as you grind against him, easily slipping along his cock. Your legs are just now recovering, shaky as you pick your body weight up, easily sliding down.

“Kook, wait wait fuck,” You whine, hips pressing themselves down until he’s buried as deep as he can, stopping all your movement. “Feels good, really good.” Your skin is on fire, and you have no doubt that your cheeks and ears are bright red. Trying to find purchase anywhere, your hands grip his forearms where they hold your waist. He feels too good, your mind feeling fuzzy as your chest rises and falls as you try to calm down. Pretty, he looks so pretty underneath you as he peers up through half lidded eyes. A small wrinkle forms in between his brows as he focuses all his attention on your pleasure.

“Pretty girl~” Jungkook almost coos to you, leaning up to press your foreheads against one another. “Let me take care of you, I’ll be so gentle I promise. Lemme make you feel good.” He reassures you, grinding against you to prove his point. Shapes with pleasure in mind weren't a lie, his cock perfectly angled to catch that soft spot inside everytime. Placing your hands onto his chest, you regain a tiny bit of stability as you slide along his cock. The little bit of composure you have is short lived, Jungkook’s beginning to slide out before slowly pushing back in, only stopping when your hips connect again.

“So deep, Kook,” You can only whine, arms losing their strength as you slip down, only holding your hips up and resting on his chest. “Sorry, it feels too good,” You apologize as he does all the work, thrusting while also maneuvering your hips to target where it feels best. Everytime he bottoms out, he’s sure to grind against your clit, only adding to your overwhelmed state. You’ve barely even started, barely even moved, and you’re panting like a bitch in heat. A giant smirk comes across Jungkook's face, pride blooming in his chest as you whine and pant all for him.

“Feels good, hm? You’re gonna be a good girl and let me hear you come for me?” He rasps against your ear, one of his hands moving to hold the back of your head. “So pretty, beautiful. All for me.” He encourages, making your face flush further as he forces you to stare into his eyes. It feels as though if you were pinched hard enough you’d wake up. “Come for me Y/n, all over my cock, wanna feel you.” It hits you out of nowhere, almost blind siding you as it washes over your entire body. Your thighs clamp down around Jungkook’s waist hard, trying to still the stimulation. He doesn’t allow such luxury, determined to thoroughly ride you through the orgasm, continuing his movement until you’re almost begging.

“Kook?” Your voice is rough as you finally speak up, shaky hands meeting his chest as you push yourself up once again.

“Hm?” He acknowledges you, hands running across your skin to smooth out any goosebumps that remain. You’re about 90% sure his touch is what’s sprouting them, but you don’t have the mindfulness right now to tell him that.

“Why does it feel so good? S’like I can't even think with you inside me.” You whimper as you feel him throb, hips beginning to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. Jungkook beams underneath you as you instinctively fuck yourself onto him, so desperate for pleasure. Your brows knit together and bottom lip is quickly caught between your teeth as you grind your clit against him, cock nudging your g spot simultaneously.

“Hmmm, I don't know. Scientifically there are multiple answers for that. But realistically, it’s likely my design and programming, and the fact you haven't been touched the entire time I’ve been here.” He chuckles at the last bit, reminiscing on all the lectures about sexual health and how too much frustration is a bad thing, “You’re extra sensitive, and I know just what to do, where to touch, how to make you tick, Y/n.” He teases as he slowly rubs the pad of his thumb into your swollen clit, the sensation making you cave in on yourself as you try to avoid it. “Cute.”

“Jungkook, m’serious!” You slur, rocking softly.

“I know pretty girl, I know. I can tell.” Jungkook chides, clearly finding some sort of humor as he watches you shake and twitch because of his cock. “You feel good, hm? Help yourself pretty.”

“I'll try,” You nod, your bottom lip finding its place between your teeth once more. Your feet lift a bit to hook around Jungkook’s inner thighs, giving you some sort of leverage to fuck yourself up and down. The very first movement is already pulling a whine from past your lips, so sensitive already. Jungkook's eyes are fixated where the two of you are connected, giant eyes watching his cock disappear and reappear. He feels himself throb as a ring of your cum begins to form, deep, deep pride and smugness brewing.

“Taking me so good, riding me so well.'' Jungkook praises, feeling his cock jump once again as your thighs begin to tremble softly. “Feels good?” Jungkook coos, palms beginning to run over the muscle.

“Really good,” You nod, biting back moans. Jungkook moans softly when you tighten around him, hands reaching up for your face.

“Be my good girl, let me hear you. Gotta hear how good my cock makes you feel,” Jungkook moans softly as you tighten around his cock. His fingers gently slip into your mouth, running along your tongue to hold your mouth open, preventing you from biting down on your lip again. “There you go,” He smiles as you moan and whimper, drool beginning to pool around Jungkook's fingers (not that he minds at all.) “I need to know how good I am to you,” He cracks, a small whimper slipping as he finishes his sentence.

“You look so pretty, Kook-ah,” You babble around his fingers softly, looking down at him. The visual is almost enough to make you cum on the spot, so unbelievably worked up it almost hurts. The way he’s peering up at you like you’re everything to him, chest beginning to artificially flush, lips bright red, cheeks beginning to match. His hair is still splayed around his head, creating a pretty halo. “Gonna cum again for you,” You whimper, hips meeting his own with a small slap.

“Good,” He smiles, rubbing small circles in your clit when you begin avoiding grinding onto him. It makes your legs shake further, your moans growing as you’re unable to muffle yourself, one hand still holding your jaw. You cum hard, thighs shaking harder than you’ve ever experienced before. Jungkook's sensitive to your reaction, slowing down his movements to allow you to ride through it without it hurting too much. “Good girl, so good for me, feels good, hm? Just a bit longer,” He talks you through it gently, voice honey to your ears.

You nod, riding through it for as long as possible. As you finish, your body slumps forward, arms wrapping around Kook’s neck as you hug him close. “Do you not cum? Is that not how this works?” You chuckle softly, his cock still throbbing softly.

“I can, when I feel that my partner has been thoroughly pleased and satisfied.” He informs, his CyberLife popping out for a quick moment. You shake, holding him closer. Jungkook wraps his arms around you, gently stroking your hair as you calm down.

“You’re going to be the death of me, how much more satisfied am I gonna get?”

“We’ll find out.”

“Jungkook,” You pull back the slightest bit to catch his face, a cheeky smirk written all over it. He leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto the tip of your nose.

“I gotta make up for the weeks you were celibate.” He softly grinds up into you, filling you with a wave of want once more. “I need to satisfy you,” He teases, kissing along your jaw and beginning to trail down to your neck. “Make sure no one else ever does it as good as me, no one else can make you cum like I can.” He continues, beginning to sit up and make you sit up as well, easily lifting both of your body weight.

“Fuck, Kook,” You whine, allowing him to maneuver you onto your back, never slipping out once. You can feel him throb softly, beginning to work himself up.

“So even if you look elsewhere, all you’ll think of is me, this pussy all mine, always,” He bites down softly into the flesh of your shoulder, leaving a light mark. “My girl,” He smiles, leaving light marks once more. His hips instinctively grind into you as he talks, not giving you a break for a second.

“All yours, Kook. I'm all yours.” You whimper softly as he slides out entirely, slowly filling you up again.

“Fuck, Y/n,” He whimpers into your neck, seemingly beginning to feel affected. “So tight,” He pants softly, hiking your legs up before pinning them to his shoulders, hands placed firmly on the couch underneath you. He’s deeper like this, able to target exactly where you need him without even really trying to. He slides out slowly, snapping his hips forward this time. It forces a moan from the both of you, sharp spikes of pleasure shooting up your back.

Jungkook holds his torso up, strong arms flexing and veins beginning to show. Your hands grip hard at his biceps, trying to find some sort of stability as he easily folds you in half, hips unrelenting as he snaps them forward. You can't quiet down, mind becoming fuzzy as you moan and whine for him.

“So tight, just, ah fuck, pulling me in, Y/n.” Jungkook pants, hands beginning to form fists where he holds the couch underneath his palms. You clench around him, words shooting straight to your core. “Don’t, shit, do that,” His hips falter the slightest bit, head falling forward slightly.

“Want you to cum with me, Jeon,” You mumble softly, arms reaching around to claw and pull at his back, pulling him closer. “You'll do that for me, please?” You ask, catching his eye contact as he pulls his head up. He lets out a soft moan as you make eye contact, abs beginning to contract as he fights off his pleasure. Fuck, he’d do anything for you.

“Need you to cum again first, just one more,” He speaks softly, reaching forward and pecking your lips softly before pulling away, he leans back a bit, giving himself more room to maneuver. His hips snap hard, chasing both of your highs. You almost complain at the loss of closeness, but quickly forget about it. “Let me have it, Y/n, need to feel you,”

It’s expected, but still rips through you, head thrown back into the couch as you shake hard. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, almost panting through your orgasm. Jungkook's hips don’t relent, chasing his own high. A loud whimper falls past your lips, hands reaching down in an attempt to push his hips away, “I know, I know, just a bit more, gonna cum for you, just like you asked pretty,” He consoles you, reaching down and softly pulling your palm up to his lips. He softly kisses your palm, hips stuttering and becoming uncoordinated as he teeters on the edge.

“Please, Jungkook, cum in me,” You whimper, the overstimulation almost too much. Your hand holds the side of his face, his own hands falling to hold onto you.

“Fuck, fuck, cumming for you,” He whimpers, hips surging forward, cumming as deep as possible. You whine and twitch as he continues, throughly fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the mess the two of you made together. His chest rises and falls, small pants slipping past his soft lips as he leans forward, holding you as close as possible as he kisses you, slow and deep, passionate. It makes you throb, quickly pushing him away before you get going again.

“Kook,” You smile hazily at him.

“Right, right,” Jungkook chuckles softly, pulling out as carefully as he can. He's covered in your cum, and you’d probably be more embarrassed if you had a sense of rationale left. “So fucking pretty,” He comments, and you meet his eyes to see what he’s talking about. He’s not staring at you, he’s looking at your pussy, hands hiking your legs up by your knees.

“JUNGKOOK!!” The embarrassment begins to come back as does your rationality. Your legs pull against his hands, closing in on yourself.

“I mean it,” He laughs softly, letting you go as he leans forward to kiss you once more. “C’mon,” He smiles, wrapping his arms around you and easily lifting you. You don’t pay much attention, but you know he’s walking to the bathroom based on the direction he’s going. He runs you a warm bath, consistently checking the temperature for you. He waits with you while it fills, softly rubbing out sore muscles to the best of his ability, kissing the dark marks in your skin. Once it’s filled, he carefully helps you in, making sure you don’t slip. Once you’re fully in, he gets up and begins to make his way out.

“Kook? Can you not take a bath?”

“I can, I just need to clean up really quick first. I’ll be right back, promise,” He smiles, kissing the top of your head before leaving. You can faintly hear him shuffle about, evening declaring the space clean enough before joining you in the bath, sliding behind you. “You feel okay?” Jungkook asks softly against your shoulder, voice making goosebumps sprout against your skin. Your head is leaned back against his shoulder, back completely rested against his torso. “Anything hurt too badly?” He asks genuinely, not looking as he kisses the bite mark on your shoulder he left behind.

“Yeah, I feel okay,” You smile, nudging against him softly. “I need to know though, how does your cum work? Do I have to buy a plan B or? That’d be kinda freaky, technology so advanced it can create life.”

Jungkook genuinely laughs, making the water slosh as the both of you bounce softly. “No, no. It acts as a lubricant actually, so we could keep going if we really wanted to.” He smiles, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he hugs you close. “I wish though, you’d be such a good mama for me,” His voice vibrates against your skin, his palms splaying across your stomach where he holds you close. Once again, your pussy aches as he talks softly against your skin.

“Do not!” You warn, pushing his face and hand away as it begins trailing further down. “We'll be going round 2,3,4, and 5 if you keep it up.” You laugh, trying to get away from him.

“C’mon, pretty, relax. Let me clean you up,” Jungkook giggles as you slide away from him, trying to sit on the opposite side of the tub. He grabs your ankle, easily manuerving you to rest against his torso once more. He does as he promises, gently cleaning all the fluids and sweat off of your body, hands ghostly as he tries not to stimulate you any further. “I love you Y/n.” Jungkook sighs softly as he finishes his work, arms coming to wrap around you.

“I love you too, Kook.” You smile softly, craning your neck around to kiss him gently. You carefully maneuver your feet under you, shakily standing out of the water.

“Easy there, bambi,” He chuckles, holding his arms out on either side of you in case you really do lose balance and slip. He's persistent in his precaution, careful to hold his arms out until you’re securely on the bath mat on stable footing.

“C’mon, finish cleaning up so you can come warm me up,”

“I like the sound of that-“

“Jeon.”

“Right.”

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crushpunky · 28 days ago

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actress!reader and “big, bad boyfriend” drew

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

The leaves had just started to turn, a cool breeze blowing down the streets of Charleston. It wasn’t often the couple had the opportunity to spend a day out together, with everything from hectic schedules to heards of paparazzi, it always seemed like something was in the way. However, on the beautiful autumn day, the two of them decided to take Charleston out on a walk.

“God, I’ve been craving Claire’s.” Y/n sighed, peering up at Drew as they continued along the sidewalk, Charleston trotting excitedly in front of them. Both of them were “undercover”, baseball hats low and sunglasses on, hoping to not draw too much attention.

“We got it, what, four days ago?” Drew teased, holding open the door to the coffee shop. Y/n rolled her eyes with a laugh, stepping into the cafe before Drew followed her.

“Find a seat and I’ll get our order, yeah?” Drew said, pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple before handing off Charleston to her. Y/n wove through the people littered throughout the cafe before finding a table on the patio. She sat down, taking off her sunglasses as Charleston curled up by her feet. The familiar scent of coffee and pastries filled her nose, allowing her to sink further into her chair as she waited for Drew to finish up.

“Is this seat taken?” Y/n glanced up from her phone at the voice. A man with curly, blond hair smiled down at her.

“Oh, yeah my—”

“Aren’t you that actress? From that Netflix show, yeah?” The man interrupted her, pulling out the seat opposite her (Drew’s) before sitting down. Y/n could feel Charleston stirring at her feet as she sat up a little straighter, glancing back towards the cafe.

“Um, yeah.” Y/n chuckled nervously, flashing a practiced, PR smile at him.

“See, I didn’t recognize you ‘cause you usually got like… nothing on, y’know? Bikini and shit.” The guy said, leaning onto the table. She could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath as he eyes continued to scan over her in a way that made her want to scream.

“Oh, um, sure.” Y/n said shortly before glancing down at her lap.

“You’ve got, like, a crazy body—”

“Excuse me.” Y/n’s head shot up at the sound of Drew’s voice. He stood at the table, placing y/n’s coffee down in front of her, his gaze locked on the man sitting opposite her.

“Aww, shit man, I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, exactly, ‘you wasn’t’.” Drew said, his jaw clenched. Y/n could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Drew like this outside of character, a fire in his eye and his fists clenched. She reached out, running her hand along his arm before taking his hand.

“Can I at least get a picture with the lady?” The man slurred, shooting a sly smirk at y/n.

“Get out of here.” Drew said sharply, his tongue prodding at the side of his cheek.

“Drew.” Y/n whispered harshly, tugging on his arm as she glanced around. The patio was filled with people, people who inevitably had phones and cameras and wouldn’t hesitate to post about how “Netflix Star Freaks Out on Fan”.

“Don’t be like that—”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Drew said. The man got up quickly, sending the chair backwards as he stood against Drew, a solid head shorter than him. One look into Drew’s steely gaze, however, and the man scurried away. Y/n let out a sigh of relief, running her hands through her hair.

“Baby, are you alright? I’m sorry, I—” Drew crouched down, grabbing her face in his hands.

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Y/n whispered, nodding with a short grin before pressing a kiss to Drew’s cheek. She wasn’t lying. While she had been scared when the man sat opposite her, the second Drew appeared she knew everything would be alright, because, whenever Drew was with her, she would be alright.

“Are you sure? We can go home if you need to.” Drew ran his thumb along her skin softly, his eyes wide with concern.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’ve dealt with my fair share of assholes.” Y/n said again with a sip of her coffee before Drew settled into the seat opposite her. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, drinking their coffee and taking bites of the pastry Drew had gotten, just soaking in the beautiful, fall afternoon. She could see the guilt on his face, the thoughts swirling in his mind as they sat.

“Oh, Drewseph, my big, bad boyfriend.” Y/n said, reaching across the table to grab Drew’s hand, hoping to soothe his racing mind. He shook his head, his cheeks blushing underneath his baseball hat.

“I wasn’t expecting to nearly beat the shit out of someone today.” Drew sighed, a grin dancing on his lips.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you nearly beat the shit out of someone ever.” Y/n raised her eyebrows. It was true. Drew, unlike what his six-foot-two, intimidating demeanor might entail, was the biggest sweetheart… it was one of the things she loved so much about him. That scary-boyfriend exterior with that kind, loving interior always made her melt.

“Didn’t think I’d ever do that, but when I saw him it just…” Drew shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Drew Starkey, I love you.” Y/n said, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Y/n y/ln, I love you.” Drew said, kissing the back of her hand in return.

“I can’t lie, seeing you that… overprotective—” y/n leaned in, her voice dropping, “---was really, really hot.”

“Really?” Drew whispered, his eyebrow quirking up and smirk widening.

“Oh yeah, super.” Y/n bit her bottom lip before taking a slow sip of her coffee. Drew swallowed harshly, his gaze dropping to where y/n’s lips sucked on the straw before fluttering back to her eyes.

“I think we should go home now.” Drew said quietly.

“And why’s that?” Y/n teased, her cheeks warming under Drew’s sultry eye.

“I think you know why.” Drew grinned, pressing a kiss to her nose before standing up from the table and offering her his hand. She took it gladly, the two of them heading back home, Charleston in tow… maybe walking a little bit faster than they had on their way into town.

#drew starkey x actress!reader #actress!reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey

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teaspacebar · 2 months ago

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spiced chai

pairing: carmen "carmy" berzatto x reader

summary: you've been living in chicago for about a year, and you're suddenly managing the coffee shop in the well beloved bookstore, nan's. you meet carmen berzatto on a not-so-good day. you're thrust into the everchanging societal landscape that is making friends in your 20s..

word count: ~9.7k

warnings: language, depictions of mental illness, barista!reader, afab!reader (but tried to be as neutral as possible), neurodivergent!reader, they don't kiss, could be read as platonic tbh but there's crumbs in there if you look, takes place over the course of a few months, probably doesn't follow canon fully (i'm not caught up yet forgive me)

a/n: *dumps this here and runs* but actually this piece of writing appeared in my brain and i've been picking away at it for a couple of months. i feel like i've put more of myself into this fic than with anything else i've written, so this is definitely more of a self insert (pls be kind or don't read if that's not your vibe). i'm queer, non-binary, and autistic and i just wanted to insert that into this space. i feel like there's more to explore here, so i might write more for this if i feel so inclined.

Meeting Carmen Berzatto was not on your to-do list for Tuesday morning.

Not that having to run down to the nearest corner store to grab milk - since the milk fridge was on the fritz…again - at 4am was in your plans either. It always seemed like one step forward, three giant leaps back with the little shop on the corner you basically called home. It was weird, to be thrust into leadership as your manager made an abrupt exit.

The small bookstore, with an even tinier coffee shop, had been your place of work for the last year or so. You loved it. The people were great, and Nan, the shop owner, was absolutely lovely. She was getting up in her years, but the genuine care she had for the employees made all the difference. She put her trust in you to run the cafe, saying “You have the experience, and the care you have for people shows. I know this. Everyone knows this. Now you just have to see it - have confidence.”

“Confidence my ass,” you mutter, carrying five gallons of milk around the corner.

What happens next might have been considered the beginning of a rom-com, but you’re a realist, and the world is shitty.

There’s a crash, and the distinct sound of three of the five gallons of milk dropping onto the sidewalk. You stare, watching in slow motion as the milk forms into a river, dripping off the sidewalk into the gutter.

The person who ran into you curses, “Shit — fuck, sorry, I—I wasn’t looking where I was…dammit.”

You grip the other two jugs in your arms, blinking out of the haze to let out a hysterical laugh. “Great…cool cool.” Cold plastic bites into your fingers, and you take a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, what else was gonna happen?” You finally look up to see the one you collided with. The man looks extremely uncomfortable, foot tapping like he wants to bolt. Plastering on a smile you shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m the one who thought carrying five gallons of milk would be fine.” You ramble on, trying to ease his nerves, “I mean — why would I drive, like, thirty seconds. Park, get the milk, come all the way back. Seemed stupid…but now there’s milk in my socks.” You grimace, fighting the urge to chuck the remaining jugs of milk in the street so you could also hurl your milk-soaked shoes and socks after them. It makes the ache in your chest sharpen.

“Here, where are you —“

You cut him off, “No, no, it’s okay. I got it, thank you.” You gesture to the door that’s just a few feet away from you. “This is me, anyway.” You adjust your hold on the milk, brushing past the man to pull open the door. You catch it with your hip, not daring to look back as you head behind the counter. You release a sigh, setting the bane of your existence on the black speckled marble.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes. You shake out your arms, biting your lip. “Okay, asshole, let’s get your shit together.” You quickly put the milk into the small fridge below the bar and walk to the back. The squish of your socks curdles your stomach, and you breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell. You take off your shoes, throwing them into a plastic bag to take home. Tossing your socks into the garbage, you grab your replacement sneakers and socks from your cubby. It wasn’t the first time you’ve dropped something on your shoes, it wouldn’t be the last.

You take your time in the back. You had gotten to the shop around 4am, unable to sleep. You were messing around with recipes, seeing if there was a possibility of baking some of the food in the cafe fresh, instead of outsourcing. It was something you put on your own plate, and you didn’t want to disappoint Nan. You had shown up early, looking to try out some muffins, and noticed the fridge had been hovering at sixty degrees all night. You’ll have to grab some more milk before the day starts, but that could be a problem for 8am you.

Walking through the swinging doors, you jump as you see someone at the bar counter. Pressing a hand to your fluttering heart, you finally take in the man that had run into you earlier. A mop of curly hair on his head, white tee, very blue eyes…and standing behind eight gallons of milk.

“Um…” you look between the milk and him a few times.

“The…uh – the door was unlocked. Figured I owed you one.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“How’d you even get it all here?”

“Made two trips.” His gaze snaps back to you as you laugh, this time more genuine. “Fridge go out, or somethin’?” You’re still staring at him like he has two heads, and he rambles on, “Sorry for just…barging in. I used to go to this place…when I was kid. My sister and I would grab whatever pastries they had left for the day. And, yeah, we’d just sit, read random shit. I work at the restaurant just down the street…’s why I ran into you. Wasn’t paying attention – sorry, again.”

Suddenly, it all clicks. “You own The Bear.”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, I do.”

You feel nervous, out of the blue. Nan hadn’t stopped talking about the Berzatto’s, and Natalie had become a regular while the restaurant was being remodeled. You’re sure you’d seen other employees come in as well, for reading material. You vaguely remember talking to a very sweet man about baking, as he carried a ton of cookbooks in his arms.

You knew Carmen Berzatto, but only through the words of others – and the research you did late one night because you were nosey. To have him standing in the bookstore you worked at, for him to have gotten you milk, is sending you for a loop. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you begin to put the milk in their new home. You really need to call the refrigerator guy again.

“That’s so cool,” the words fall from your mouth, others staying in your head.

It's insane that someone like him is even speaking to you. He’s around the same age as you; He owns a restaurant and you’re barely able to run a tiny coffee bar in a bookstore. You’re an idiot who dropped milk onto the sidewalk. Why didn’t you just take the car? You should’ve just taken the car. Now Carmen fucking Berzatto has bought you milk at 5am because he feels bad for you. How pathetic. Call the fucking refrigerator guy.

“Thanks…for the milk.” You back away from the counter, gesturing behind you, “Lemme grab some money from the cash box real quick.”

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s really fine, you didn’t have to go out of your way. I’ll be right back.” The itch creeps its way up your spine, and you push through the door as a shudder passes through you. You shake out the twitch, going and grabbing the cash box. You do mental math, trying to see how much you should give him. Did he even need the money? “Idiot,” you chide yourself. Today was not the day for your brain.

Snagging a twenty and a ten, you rush back out to the bar, only to find the store empty. A groan escapes through your teeth, and you clench the cash in your hands, crumpling it. You walk to the front door, peering out to see if you can spot the chef. He must’ve made a quick getaway. As you turn to get prepped for the day, you spot a brochure on the counter, far away from its home of the stand at the front of the bookstore. Eat Your Way Through Chicago!

Scribbled on the front is a phone number, and the words:

Fridge Ask for Fak Say Carm sent you

“Fucking fuck.” You whisper, a smile creeping on your face against your will, “Asshole.”

It’s later in the week when you hear the bell attached to the front door – ding! You poke your head up from where you're arranging some alternative milks under the counter, seeing a familiar blonde.

“Hey, Natalie!” You pop up, an easy grin appearing on your face. “Half-caff?”

She nods, “Please.”

“How are you?”

“Oh, you know.”

You ring her up quickly, then grab a pitcher to steam some milk for her latte. Natalie walks away from the counter to browse some books. The steam wand whirs, and you watch the vortex inside the pitcher. You touch the sides every so often, waiting for it to get to the right temperature. Making drinks is all muscle memory now, and you tamp the espresso grounds into the portafilter with precision. Wiping the excess from the lip, you lock it into the machine and press the shot button. As the shot pulls, you wipe down the steam wand with a wet cloth.

“Is this any good?” Natalie has come back over, holding up a book with a half-naked man on the front.

You laugh, “It’s a Nan recommendation, so…” The shots are poured into the paper cup, and you swirl the milk into it, doing a quick tulip design. You sprinkle a little cinnamon over the top, before placing it in front of the woman.

“Smutty then, for sure.” Natalie laughs, then does a little excited gasp when she sees the latte art. “It looks so good every time!”

“Thanks,” you reply, “Gets covered by the lid, but it’s fun to practice.”

“Too bad you don’t have for-here mugs,” she says thoughtfully.

“Ever the idea-haver! There'd be more spills to clean up – Nan would lose her mind if any books got ruined.” You point to the book still in her hand, “You want me to ring you up for that?” It was early enough in the afternoon that the only other person here was a part-timer, Jack, somewhere between the shelves stocking books. You had convinced Nan to upgrade to a different register system (which ended up saving money in the long run), so you’re able to ring up both books and café products at your register.

She shakes her head, sighing. “I barely have any time to read, these days. I was thinking about trying out audiobooks? I used to listen to them at my old job, but it’s way too loud in the kitchen for that to work out.” The latte goes to her mouth, a pleasant hum leaving her as she takes a sip. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, Natalie.”

She squints at you, “It’s Nat, c’mon.” A big conspiratorial grin makes its way onto her face, “So, I heard that you got some help with your fridge.”

A sharp pain twists in your chest. “Oh, um…yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle, “It’s working, which is great. Neil was a big help.”

“He said you made him the best hot chocolate he’s ever had,” Natalie taps the counter with her pointer finger twice. “Said he didn’t know how you got his number, though.”

You shrug, wiping down the counter, “Nan had it. And the usual guy wasn’t calling me back.” Neil had told you the exact same thing, both about the drink and the number. Something had held you back from saying where you got the number from. Embarrassment, maybe? It felt weird, feeling like you owed anyone favors, or that things would be unbalanced. People usually never give without looking to receive.

“Frankie, right? He’s an asshole. Overcharges for everything.” Natalie doesn’t push you for answers, something you’re grateful for.

“Right! He disappeared one time and said he’d ‘be right back’ and then was gone for like, two hours! And he added that to his hourly!” The two of you giggle at the shittiness of people for a minute, when a ping causes Natalie to pull her phone from her pocket.

“I should run.” She reaches into her purse, and puts a five into your tip jar. “Thanks again!”

As she turns to go, you call out her name. “Would you - maybe - I have some extra muffins. The place we get them from gave us some of the wrong ones…or they’re a tad over baked, or something. I can’t sell them. Would you wanna take them with you?”

“That’s so sweet of you! Yeah, I’m sure they’ll get eaten up.”

You grab the box of muffins, handing them over to her, “Thanks.”

“Thank you, babe.” She leaves with a smile, and you look down to brush the flour off your apron.

“Hey, guys, I got some goodies!” Natalie sets the box of muffins on the table, where everyone is seated for family meal.

Neil immediately grabs the box, pointing to the sticker on the top, “You went to Nan’s? Man, I could use a hot chocolate right now.”

“I’m sure you can walk over there and order one, my love.” Natalie replies, waving for him to put the box back on the table.

Marcus snags two muffins, handing one to Sydney who is sitting on his right. Taking a bite, he stops chewing, eyebrows raised. “Dude,” he nudges the girl next to him.

“Dude,” Syd parrots, popping some muffin into her mouth. “Wait, woah.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Nat, where did you get these?” Sydney calls to the woman now sitting at the end of the table. The muffins are passed down the rest of the table.

Marcus has started dissecting the muffin, “Macadamia nuts, sick.”

“Oh they’re from Nan’s just down the corner!” She tells them how you offered them to her since they were the wrong ones from a vendor and possibly over-baked.

Syd snorts, “Over-baked? These are perfect!”

“What’s perfect?” Carmy walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“Bear, come eat!” Natalie waves him over, pulling him into the seat next to hers. “You’ve been at it all morning, take a minute, okay?” She gives him a look that tells him not to argue, and he huffs in response, but does as she says.

“What’s perfect?” He asks again, taking the muffin box from Sweeps as it’s passed to him. As the cinnamon crumble topping hits his taste buds, he leans back in his chair. “Shit.”

“That’s what we’re saying!”

Syd and Marcus begin talking over one another, the dull roar of family making its home in Carmy’s ears. He has another bite of muffin, thumb swiping over the sticker atop the box.

Nan’s Books & Brews

Simple lettering, surrounding a doodle of a coffee cup sitting on an open book.

“When did they,” he clears his throat as he leans closer to Nat, “when did they start doin’ stuff like this?”

Natalie purses her lips, “Not sure, honestly. They only had that small coffee machine and that plastic pastry case when we were growing up, remember? I think they added the actual coffee bar right before Covid?” Carmy nods, looking out the windows, a curdle in his stomach.

“A lot’s changed,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Nat sighs, a hand over her stomach, “a lot has.”

A few weeks go by, as uneventful as they can be. You try out more recipes, and the staff of Nan’s is always sent home with one treat or another. Muffins, cinnamon rolls, croissants (which were a bust), and the like. Natalie is still a regular, and Neil has shown up to save your ass more than once. The brochure with his number on it taunts you from where it’s stuck up on the corkboard in the back.

Which is what has led you to standing in front of The Bear, a joe-to-go in one hand, paper bag in the other. An envelope burns in the inner pocket of your flannel jacket. Steeling your nerves, you knock on the door. Some yells are heard from inside, nicknames getting passed around like it’s a holiday dinner. You see a man walk towards you, in a nice suit, and he opens the door.

“Can I help you?” It’s not said unkindly, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s making you nervous.

“Coffee delivery?” You say sheepishly, holding up the coffee traveler by its cardboard handle.

“Richie, who’s at the - hey!” Natalie immediately smiles when she sees you, and you sigh a breath of relief. Things were easy with her; she had this amazing way of comforting you without even trying.

“Hi,” you wiggle your fingers, still keeping hold of the objects in your hands. “Wanted to say thanks for all the help Neil’s been giving me, and when Nan found out, she insisted I bring over some coffee for the team, so…”

“You workin’ at Nan’s?” The guy - Richie - asks.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” You reply, thanking Natalie as she grabs the paper bag from you.

“Let them in, Richie, c’mon.” She presses on his chest, causing him to back up with his hands in the air. “Come in! I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to come by for a tour.” You follow behind her, taking in the layout of the place. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a sense of awe falls over you. She has you set the coffee traveler on the bar, letting you take the paper bag from her hands. You pull out a cup holder with two cups in it.

“One half-caff french vanilla latte for you and…a hot chocolate for Neil.” As if by magic, Neil pops through the door to the kitchen.

“For me?!”

You chuckle as he pulls you into a hug. When he pulls away, he grabs his cup with a happy sound, rushing back into the kitchen when “Fak!” is yelled.

“The fuck Fak get a coffee for?” Richie frowns, causing you to bristle. Natalie swats at him, beginning to explain as you continue to walk around the restaurant. As you pass by a wood table, your fingers tap on it, the sound echoing in your ears. It sends a shiver through you, and a small smile appears on your lips.

Natalie calls out to you, tearing your gaze back to her. People have begun to swarm around the bar, placing food on it, and your coffee is suddenly surrounded by things that smell amazing. “Did you want to eat with us, babe?” Attention turns to you, and the itchiness in your limbs reappears with a vengeance.

A tall man, wearing a beanie, grins, “Hey, those muffins were amazing, by the way.”

You sputter, “Oh. Um—“

“Tell the chef, or baker — whoever,” he laughs at himself. “They were fire.”

Warmth rises in you, “Yeah, I’ll pass it on.”

“Babe, lunch?” Natalie says again, louder this time. More of the staff have begun digging into their meals.

“No, it’s okay!” The corner of your mouth curves up in a small smile, this one less genuine than before. You begin to back up towards the door, a gnaw of guilt in your gut as Natalie frowns.

“Cousin! Food!” Richie yells out, followed by laughter from everyone else.

“I’m coming!” A familiar figure bursts through the kitchen door, “You don’t gotta yell like an asshole.”

Carmen Berzatto stops in his tracks when he sees you; the envelope in your pocket burns hotter. You look down at your shoes, but they just remind you of the milk dripping down the sidewalk.

“Carm,” Natalie introduces you, “they work at—“

“Nan’s.” Everyone chimes in, and you have to stop yourself from flinching. You look over at Carmy, eyes meeting.

There’s a moment where you feel like you’re going to get swallowed whole. The pipes are going to burst and water will fill up the room and you’re going to drown.

You walked straight into a den of hungry beasts, and you’re just a measly rabbit.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Natalie’s words are muffled in your ears, but you manage to shake your head.

“I have someone from books covering me, and they barely know how to work the espresso machine.” You force a laugh. It grates against your vocal chords. “It was nice meeting you guys, though.” With a meek wave, you turn on your feet and speed out the door. Rounding the corner, you keep walking until you’re sure they can’t see you. Veering into the alleyway behind the restaurant, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the brick.

You press your thumb into the palm of your hand. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. Inhale, hold four seconds, exhale. It’s over before it starts, but your chest remains tight. A reminder, which will eventually dissipate once you're back in the shop.

The coffee bar, your shield; apron, your armor.

A door opening causes you to jump, startled. Your eyes meet blue, widening like you’ve been caught. “Sorry! I was just–” You push off the brick.

Carmen seems just as surprised as you, “No, s’fine.” He clears his throat, as the two of you settle into silence.

A fwip of a lighter. Four seconds. An exhale of smoke.

You’re unsure if you should leave, but it’s like the bottoms of your shoes are stuck to the ground. “Did you-” He starts, lifting up his hand that holds a lit cigarette.

You shake your head, “No, but - um, thanks.” Your fingers twitch, and you reach to pull the envelope from inside your jacket. Something that appears so insignificant, held out in the space between you. When he just stares, you wave it a bit, until he takes the envelope with his free hand.

“What’s this?”

“Cash, for the milk you bought.”

“You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” You bounce on your heels, “I should actually get going this time. Just wanted to give you that but…” He doesn’t respond, something you’re getting used to. You wonder where the man who rambled about reading with his sister at Nan’s went, but decide now is the best time to make your escape. As you start to walk toward the street, you turn, “The restaurant looks great, by the way. Good luck with the opening.”

“Good luck with the opening.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

"Let it rip, Bear."

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“-a complete waste of fucking time.”

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

“I’m really sorry you feel that way, Carm.”

Natalie invites you to Friends & Family.

You don’t go.

The next month flies by. Marcus, Richie, and Syd have joined your little group of regulars. Richie even brings his daughter, Eva, whenever he’s able. She’s a joy and absolutely hilarious to have around. Richie has grown on you, the rough edges of him softening after a few cortados.

One night, he had rushed into the shop, Eva in tow, all but begging you to watch her for a few hours. He was supposed to be off for the day, to spend time with his daughter, but they’re understaffed at The Bear. A few weeks in, which confused you, but questions weren’t asked. You said yes - obviously - and had Eva help you with little things around the shop, until you close. The two of you bonded over a shared love of Taylor Swift while making muffins. By the time Richie came to pick her up, Eva was tuckered out in a loveseat, patchwork blanket tucked up to her chin.

“I owe you one,” Richie had whispered, holding his daughter in his arms.

You shook your head, “You deserve to have time with her.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, bring it up with the Bear himself.”

You weren’t planning on it. The man is barely on your mind. Except for every time someone from The Bear walks in. They look drained, more and more each day. It’s a certain type of pain, to watch people – that once had so much life in them – lose the light that you felt so harshly the first time you walked into the restaurant. You hear inklings; mentions of a changing menu every night, nonnegotiables, and the like.

It worries you. It’s not your place - you’re more than aware of that. But you’ve come to care for these people. And by extension, some part of you wants to see how he’s doing. It’s an odd - biting -feeling. How strange it is, to know someone through everyone else’s eyes but your own. You have to fight back the urge to force yourself into the places you do not fit. You’re resigned to watching from afar, providing comfort behind your coffee bar. It’s what you’re good at. It might be all you're good at.

Some sick twist of fate decides to upturn it all one Friday night.

Carmy had stayed late, to nobody’s surprise. He’d been adjusting the menu, preparing it for tomorrow, when the flashes hit him. He decides to walk it off, popping another thing of nicotine gum into his mouth. He walks aimlessly, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts out of his head. The street is dark - most places being closed - but light pours onto the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. Almost a reflex, he peers into the windows.

A laugh of disbelief - more a huff of air through his nose - leaves him.

You’re dancing, headphones over your ears, as you mix something in a large bowl. It’s unlike anything he’s seen - from you or otherwise. There’s a sense of freedom in your movements, so different from the few times he’d seen you before. The tightness in his chest lightens, some, at the sight of you so obviously in your element.

And you're looking right at him.

“Shit,” he mumbles. You tilt your head at him, doing a little wave. He lifts a hand in reply, and you point haphazardly at the door. Before he can respond, or walk away – anything, you’re heading around the counter. A click of the door unlocking, and you pull it open part way.

“Hey,” you say, a little loud. With a wince, you pull the headphones off to rest around your neck. Music can be heard – a muffled, upbeat song that he doesn’t recognize. “Hey,” you say again, quieter this time. Silence passes between you, and he watches your nose twitch. “…did you wanna?” You jut your thumb behind you. You’re almost unrecognizable from the first time you met, calmer, somehow.

“Yeah, sure.” The words come out, easier than he thinks, and slips through the door you hold open. You lock it behind him, turning back around to slide behind the counter.

You grab a muffin tin, beginning to fill each one with a scoop of the batter you had been mixing. You make quick work of it, pushing them into the small commercial oven, wiping your fingers on the towel that’s pulled through a loop in your jeans.

Leaning against the counter, you finally look at him, “Okay, Pick your poison.”

“What?”

“Coffee? Americano, latte, cappuccino?” It’s like you’re trying to read him, wanting to crack the spine of a book and see what’s inside.

“I don’t really do the…caffeine.”

You hum thoughtfully, tapping your fingers on the counter in some type of rhythm. “Can I make you something? Low-caffeinated, of course.” He nods. “Anything you hate?” A shake of his head.

You grab a cup and get to work. You’re singing under your breath - the song that’s playing from the headphones around your neck. With your eyes off of him, he takes a moment to actually observe the shop. Warm lighting, with dark wood bookshelves making it feel cozy without being too claustrophobic. There’s smaller tables, with different recommendations for certain genres. A sprinkling of string lights and hanging plants just adds to the homey feeling, one so different from the pristine, white kitchens he’s used to being in. So different from his own restaurant. The coffee shop portion is close to the front, dark marble countertops and a chalkboard menu - swirling letters describing monthly drink specials.

“Alright, order up,” you call out softly.

Carmy walks back up to the bar, eyeing the cup. Warmth presses into his skin as his fingers curl around it. You mention that it’s hot, to let it cool for a bit. Silence falls between the two of you - in a way he finds comforting. Your eyes flick between him and the counter you’re wiping down.

“Do you normally do this?” He asks.

“The making drinks thing, or the staying at the shop way too late thing?” You give a wry smile. “Could ask you the same.”

He scratches at his nose, “Noted.”

The minutes pass; you go about cleaning the shop, rinsing dishes and setting things up for the next day. It’s an art he’s well versed in. The muscle memory takes over for you, and Carmen becomes invisible. It feels nice, to just be in a place where nobody has anything to ask of him. He finally tries the drink. It’s good, milky, if a little sweet, but it eases the last of the sourness in his stomach away. A timer on your phone goes off, and you tug on a flowery oven mitt to pull the muffins out of the oven. Chocolate and spice invades his nostrils, soothing him even more. You grab one, hissing a bit since it’s hot, and put it on a plate, bringing it back over to him. Leaning over the bar, you reach for forks that are in a metal cup, right near Carmy. You’re close, with no care about being in his personal space. It’s only for a second, and then you’re back in your previous position.

“You can have some, as long as you promise not to be an ass about it.” You hold out a fork for him. The words cause him to cringe, but he takes the utensil from you.

He stares at the muffin, running his thumb on the underside of the fork. “How much trouble am I in?”

You shrink back a little, “W-what?”

He’s met you what - twice? Both times felt clunky, an awkwardness to the both of you. Here, it’s simpler. Under the cover of night, huh? A voice that sounds awfully like Mikey’s says in the back of his mind. His family won’t stop talking about you. Or drinking your coffee.

“The Bear,” he mutters. “They talk to you, right?”

You laugh, surprised. “Do you actually want to know?” You hold up a hand before he can reply, “Actually, no. They don’t talk to me. I see things, sure. But I’m not getting anyone in trouble with the boss.” You’re on the defensive, not even for yourself, but for his kitchen.

“They-They’re not in trouble.” One look from you and he deflates, sighing. “Okay, yeah. Just…just say something.”

“I haven’t even been to eat there.”

“You should come,” he says.

Another laugh - a scoff, more-like, “You think I could afford your place?” You bite your lip, pinching the bridge of your nose. After a moment, you continue, gently, “Do you have any fun?”

“Fun.” The word is like poison in his mouth.

“Yes, fun. I know that food service isn't the best, but it’s good to have fun, or to at least enjoy it.” You wave your hands around, “That family meal stuff you guys do? That’s so sweet, and you have a whole family unit going on in that kitchen, or whatever. If this restaurant is supposed to be the rest of your life, you should like it, at least a little bit, right?” Your torso melts into the counter, and you rest your head on your arm. “And like, maybe? Don’t change the menu every night, or something. It’s new, right? You gotta work out the kinks first before jumping in all-” you blow air out through your cheeks.

A beat of quiet, then, “The menu, huh?”

“Eleven thousand for butter?” You parrot back. At his frown, you hold up your hands, “I’m just a barista, what would I know?” You say it without heat, and yet he feels guilt crawl up his throat.

“That’s not-”

“I know, Carmen.” A sigh leaves your lips, “You asked, so I talked. Again, take everything with a grain of salt.” The words get softer, as if you’re talking more to yourself than to him, “Just remember who’s going down with you if it ends up crashing and burning.”

You stab your fork into the muffin, tearing it in half. He follows suit, lifting a bite of it to his lips. Spice floods his taste buds, and he grunts. You blink up at him, fork hanging from your mouth. He’s suddenly starving, and he eagerly gets himself another forkful. “S’good.” He mumbles through the food. Carmen watches as you process his words, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. You two finish the muffin, and there’s an ominous sense of peace that covers him like a blanket. “Thanks.”

“For yelling at you?”

Carmy lets the chuckle spill out, “If that’s what you call yelling…” He trails off, sobering, “Do you have fun?”

You hum, contemplating. “Yeah. I mean, it’s coffee, at the end of the day. It’s just nice to see people, to make their day a little better than it was. I like to try out new things, to create, to get recommendations.” You stop, seeing him staring at you, “What?”

“You’re different…from the other day, s’all.”

You’re perplexed, scrunching your nose, “Well I had a bad day, the first time. And I don’t do…well, with new people.”

“Unless you’re behind the counter.”

Your eyes widen, something flickering behind them, like he’s seen something you didn’t want him to. “Touche.” Checking your phone, you clear your throat, “Alright, we should probably get out of here if we want any semblance of sleep.” He follows your lead, as you flick off the lights, throwing you backpack over your shoulder. He waits while you lock the front door, small key dangling on a keychain. You turn, looking at him, before holding out a paper bag, “Muffin for the road?”

He grabs it, an odd feeling bubbling in his chest, “Oh - uh, thanks.”

You suddenly look sheepish, fiddling with the strap of your bag, “And if you’re out late again, feel free to stop by. If you need a break, or something.” A beat. “Oh, again, take what I said with a grain of salt, yeah? Just - maybe - try to take care of yourself a little.” You laugh nervously, and Carmy sees the truth of his earlier observation. You’re still more relaxed, but the nerves have crept in as you step outside your comfort zone. Something he knows all too well. “Anyways, have a good night - morning.” You shake your head, blowing a raspberry through your lips.

“Night. Get home safe.” He murmurs. You turn on your heel, walking down the street. He tightens his grip on the paper bag.

Take care of yourself.

At least enjoy it.

You should like it, at least a little bit, right?

Carmy doesn’t know if he truly remembers what liking cooking is like. He’s found little bits of it, in moving back home. In Marcus’ eyes as he creates something new. In Syd’s determination to make amazing food. There’s a passion there that he’s lost somewhere along the way.

He sees it in you, and it calls out to him - the tide being pushed and pulled by the moon. A curious feeling, gnawing at his stomach. A hunger for something he can’t make sense of, but he pulls the muffin out of the bag to eat on his walk home.

Carmy keeps showing up at Nan’s, usually late at night. You didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer, yet a smile graces your lips every time he does.

He was right, when he said you feel most comfortable behind the counter. You knew it, but having someone else acknowledge it felt…weird. Like you weren’t playing your part right. Yet it also felt good, to be seen.

Conversation between the two of you still feels stilted, occasionally, but you find comfort in the quiet moments. And the not-so quiet ones; with music playing at just above a reasonable level, you mouthing the words as you dance around behind the bar. The mask slowly slides off when he comes around, and it’s easier to be goofy.

You think it surprises him. He’s not quite sure what to do, when you’re cruising on the linoleum tile you call a dance floor. But he never tells you that you’re weird, or too much. You’ve maybe even seen him bite back a smile. You swear there’s dimples hiding somewhere — a fleeting thought that you let fly away before you linger on it too long.

“What do you think?” You’ve turned the music down, notepad on the counter, your favorite pen in hand. You click it a few times, sound satisfying the little itch in the back of your brain.

“Not sure if I’m a matcha fan,” Carmy murmurs. You nod, writing down his response onto the paper. It’s almost filled — you’ll have to turn to the next page soon — with different drinks you’ve had Carmy try, determined to find the right one. He’s harder to pin than others, something you’re not necessarily surprised by.

That's partially on you. You're unsure of how much to ask. How much could you poke the both metaphorical and literal Bear until it breaks? You've been enjoying your time, but you've yet to ask him how work is going. He doesn't ask you about your personal life, so why would you ask about his?

There's a curiosity there, though. To see what makes Carmen Berzatto tick. You fear the two of you might be a little too similar.

You turn to go back to cleaning your mess — the reason being a fresh tray of cookies cooling on the counter, when he says your name. “Did you get a new tattoo?”

Gaze flashing to the wrap you have on your arm, peeking out from the sleeve of your shirt, you turn bashful. “Oh,” you hum, “I did. It’s been on my list for awhile. I’m keeping it wrapped at work while it heals - god knows I spill everything all over myself.”

“Can I — What did you get?” He’s just as sheepish as you, a boyish glow about him. You’d never talked about tattoos before. His evidence is on his arms; yours are mostly concealed — easy to hide with the oversized button downs and jeans you wear.

You pull your phone from your back pocket, “Here, I’ll pull up a photo of it.” Placing your phone on the counter, Carmy grabs it, zooming in on the two-headed calf that’s found its home on your bicep. The tattoo is fresher in the photo, line work popping out against your skin. “The longest living two-headed calf lived 17 months. Her name was Gemini — a little on the nose, I think. There’s also this poem by Laura Gilpin, that just kinda struck me.” Your ramble tumbles off, a half smile pulling at your lips. “It’s sad, but the kind that makes you hurt in a nice way? If that even makes sense.” You wave a hand around, then reach to take a sip from his cup.

The matcha settles the nerves hiding under your skin, the earthy flavor dancing on your tongue. As you set the cup back on the counter, you point at his hand, “What’s that stand for?” Your own fingers twitch, fighting the urge to brush them across his own. “S.O.U?”

“Ah, sense of urgency.” He says, fiddling with your phone.

You laugh, quickly covering it with a hand, “Sorry, I — sorry, that just makes so much sense.” Before he can speak, you shake your head, “Not in a bad way, necessarily. It’s just so obvious how little work-life balance you have.”

“We’re literally at your shop in the middle of the night.” Carmen huffs exasperatedly, corner of his mouth curling up.

You hold your hands up, conceding, “Okay, I get it. Misery loves company - or whatever. God, we’re both crazy, aren’t we? We should get out more.”

He hums in response, tapping his phone twice to check the time. Anxiety swells up in your throat, and there’s something biting at your heels. The silence doesn’t feel comfortable anymore.

You said something wrong, the little voice in your head whispers. You lost the script and got too close and now he’s pulling back. How can you fix it? You have to fix it.

“What’s your favorite one?” His blue eyes glance up at you. Invisible hand squeezing your lungs, you stammer, “Tattoo. What’s the one you like most?”

His words come out softly, “A house boat. I, uh, got it before leaving Copenhagen. I stayed in one while I was over there, and put out water for an invisible cat.” Relief floods you as he talks. It’s the most he’s spoken about anything, and you see a glimmer behind his eyes.

It feels a little too close to home.

“You really loved it over there, huh?”

As if caught, he clears his throat, “It was cool…different.”

Different from Chicago, you don’t say. “I get that,” you murmur instead.

You knew what it was like, to run away. The need for escape pushing you into flight as the metaphorical dog chases the rabbit.

You wonder what Carmen’s dog was. Or is. If it’s even a dog at all.

“What about you? What’s your favorite?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts. “Oh! Um, it’s silly.” You worry at your bottom lip.

“You don’t—”

“No, hold on, it’s just,” you push yourself onto the counter with the palms of your hands. Carmen leans back as you swing your legs over the bar, letting your feet rest on the barstool next to him. You lean over, pulling up your pants leg to show the tattoo on the right side of your calf. He stares at it for a moment, confusion clear in his gaze. “See, I told you.”

“Is it a moth, or something?”

“Moth-man, Carmen. Mothman.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?”

“He’s a cryptid. There’s literally stories of a Chicago Mothman.” He peers up at you in amusement, causing you to scrunch your face at him. “I swear on my life Carmen Berzatto, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not.” He laughs, and your chest loosens. You got Carmen Berzatto to laugh. “It looks good, the style is nice,” he gestures to your leg.

You smile, “Thanks.”

Nodding, he goes to sip from his cup. He makes a face, pulling it away from him, “Yeah, I don’t like this.”

He holds it out to you as you reach for it, laughter spilling from your lips, “More grass for me.” You drink, and let the cup rest on your thigh, fingers tapping on the plastic lid.

“I’m not…” Your head turns to look at him, watching as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not really good at this.”

“...at what?” You whisper, scared if you talk any louder you’ll scare him away.

“Talking? Not working? Who the fuck knows,” his hand leaves his hair and passes over his face.

“I’m not either, really.” You pick at your jeans, “But we’re trying, right? You come by more than I thought you would.”

“Really?”

You snort, “Dude, the first time I was surprised you even came in.” Gently, you add, “And you don’t have to be perfect at conversation to be friends with someone.” His eyes meet yours as you nudge his shoulder with your knee. “I’m weird, you’re weird, that’s okay.”

Carmen rolls his eyes good naturedly. His legs are bouncing, and you can almost see him chewing the word around before it finally leaves, “Friends?”

“Friends.” You affirm. Silence passes between you, until a growl comes from your stomach.

The man laughs, looking all the prettier for it, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groan.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing his denim jacket that’s hung over the chair on his left, “C’mon.”

It takes a moment, but it clicks. “Oh my god,” you gasp out, hopping off the counter. With a speed you only have during a lunch rush, you run to the back. You untie your apron, hang it up on a hook, and grab your tote bag. “Wallet, keys, phone…phone!”

“Out here!” Carmen yells. You grin, rushing back out to the front, bouncing on your heels. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You shake your keys with enthusiasm. He laughs as you both leave, and you turn to lock up. There’s excitement buzzing through you, like caffeine would if your brain weren’t wired a bit funky. A thought cuts through the haze, “Oh shit, I forgot to–”

“I got the trash.” The street lights reflect off his blue eyes.

Your heart twinges a little, “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gestures with his head, “Now let’s go before your stomach eats itself.”

“Hey Carm?!”

The man pokes his head into the office, one hand wrapped around the door, “Yeah, what?”

Natalie raises an eyebrow, “You busy?”

Carmy scoffs, “Yeah, Sugar, I’m busy.”

It’s lunch time. Marcus has pastries, Tina’s running prep. Syd is around…avoiding him. He tries not to think about it for too long. Richie is who knows where.

Fuck, don’t be an asshole, asshole.

Deflating, he asks, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I’m spending my hour of alone time figuring shit out here, while Pete watches the baby.” His sister sighs, glancing down at the paperwork on the desk, “I’m managing. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He wants to ask about the baby. His niece. But Natalie barrels over the topic to say, “Were you here late the other night?” He must have made a face because Natalie sighs, exasperated. “I know you stay later than everyone else, doing god knows what, but I got a notification on my phone the other night-“

“What notification?”

She rolls her eyes, “The alarm system, dummy. I get alerts.”

“No, yeah, I get that. But I turned it off.”

It could only be from the other night, when he brought you back to the restaurant. He’s not sure why he did — he almost had a panic attack in front of you while debating what to make. It's strange, how much an environment can affect someone. Nan's feels so comfortable to him now, like nothing can happen to him when he's in those four walls. Where was the last place he felt like that?

You don’t need to impress anyone, Carmen. It’s just me, you had said.

Simple words that cut through him like a knife. You asked for comfort food, so he made you grilled cheese with tomato soup. The little dance you did every time you took a bite relit a fire inside of him that had been burnt out by years of working in kitchens.

“I know. I’m asking because the alarm was set, and then you turned it off again a few hours later.” Natalie unlocks her phone, showing him her screen that has some app pulled up with timestamps on it. “Are you sleeping? Look, I know things aren’t great right now—" Natalie cuts herself off with another sigh.

“It’s fine. Things are fine.” At her pointed look, he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m working on it, okay? Just…are you good? Do you need anything?”

“About 48 hours of interrupted sleep would be great.” Her gripe falls off into a laugh, which he returns.

Stepping into the room further, he pulls the door closer, just a slim crack of clean white light coming through. “I’ve been a shitty brother lately.”

“No…” Natalie snorts, “Okay yeah, a bit. I love you, though.”

He mumbles the words back, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, “Maybe I could come by, sometime. See the baby.” It’s a blessing and curse how his chest aches when he sees the way her eyes light up.

“I’d love that, Bear.”

“Yo, delivery!” Marcus yells out, pulling the attention of the Berzatto siblings.

“The fuck?” There isn't supposed to be a delivery today.

Natalie gets out of her seat, “Oh thank god.” She ushers Carmy out of the office, pushing past him into the dining room. He follows after her, confused, only to stop in his tracks.

You’re here.

You stand next to Richie, talking animatedly, albeit shy. You’re wearing clothes he doesn’t regularly see you in, the worn denim jacket catching his eye in particular. It’s clear that you aren't working, yet you hold two cups from Nan’s in your hands, a few drink carriers littering a table.

“You’re literally my savior, thank you.” Natalie pulls you into a hug, and you look at Richie with wide eyes. Carmy has to hold back a snort at your expression.

“You should expect this reaction by now, kid.” Richie takes a sip from his drink when you gape at him in exaggerated outrage.

“Shut up, Richie,” Natalie is barely paying attention, saying the words more out of habit. Grabbing a cup from a drink holder, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

Giggles bubble from your lips, and you go to cover them with the back of your arm. There’s a pull Carmy feels, instinctual, to urge your arm away from your face and hear your genuine laughter fill the room.

Your eyes meet his, finally noticing that he’s there. The smile you give him is earnest, a gentle hello without words. He forces his feet to move, closing the distance. Carmy blatantly ignores the looks both Richie and Natalie are making. You hold out the cup in your hand - the one you weren’t drinking from - and he takes it from you.

Condensation clings to the sides, his name hastily written on the side.

⋆⁺Carmy!⁺˚⋆

There’s a heart in place of the dot at the bottom of the exclamation point, little stars doodled around his name. His stomach flips.

“Iced?” He swirls the drink in hand, mixing it up.

You shrug, “Thought I’d try something different. It’s hot outside.”

“You off?” Bringing the straw to his lips, he hums at the taste. You’re watching him eagerly, head tilted to the side as you wait for his review. “This is nice.”

Squinting at him, you huff, “Not perfect, though.” You type something into your phone — most likely to add to your notebook later. “Had to run some more syrup by the shop. Saw Natalie’s car on the street so I texted her to see if she wanted something to drink. I have errands to run after this.”

“You a regular too now, Cousin?” Richie barks, and Carmy watches as you remember where you are. Who you’re with.

A protectiveness rises up in Carmen, hating the way you recoil into yourself. “Fuck off, Richie.” He looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Dude, we got shit to do.”

“Richie!” Natalie hisses at the older man, shoving him back toward the kitchen. She calls back to you, “Thanks for the coffee! I promise I’ll come by when I feel more like a human again.”

The customer service clicks into place behind your eyes, “Take care of yourself! Hope the baby is doing well!” Once it's just the two of you, you sigh, knocking the heels of your boots together. “I should get going.”

Carmen nods, “Can I grab you a sandwich, first?”

“Grilled cheese?” You tease, stifling a smile.

He huffs, shaking his head, “Nah, but Ebra’s got window right now. I could throw something together real quick.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He glances down; you’re pressing your thumb into the middle of your hand. It's uncanny, the semblance of himself that is mirrored in you.

“I know.” He wants to, though. “Give me five minutes?”

A moment of hesitation, then, “Okay.”

“Cool.” And he’s off.

Chaos erupts the minute he’s back in the kitchen.

“Since when did the two of you become buddy-buddy?”

“Can we please get back to work? Richie, respectfully, what are you doing back here?” Syd is working on pasta, flour covering her work service.

“I got shoved outta my space, so here I am,” Richie waves his hands around.

The overlapping voices turn into white noise, and Carmy inhales sharply, “Fak!”

“Yes, chef!” Neil appears out of nowhere. Sometimes Carmen thinks there’s a series of underground passages that makes it so easy to get ahold of him. It’s not that crazy of a notion.

“Go and say hello to them, okay? I’m gonna throw together something, give it to them, and then I’ll be right back.” The last part is meant for everyone to hear, but is pointed more toward Richie. “Seriously, just leave it, alright?”

“I’m leaving it,” Richie snarks, but nudges Fak with his elbow. “Think there’s a drink out there with your name on it anyway. Snag me another one of those apple-donut-things too, eh?”

“Fritters!” Marcus calls out from his station.

Carmy sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s queasy; he’ll have to take some pepto later.

Inhale. Four seconds. Exhale.

Let it rip, Bear.

Neil barrels into you, wrapping you in a hug. He talks your ear off for the next couple minutes; you smile when you need to, laugh when you remember.

The yells from the kitchen are playing on repeat in your ears.

They’re talking about you.

The urge to flee tickles the back of your throat. You thought it would be nice to stop by and bring Natalie a coffee, but then you had felt bad about not bringing anything for everyone else, which turned into you jumping behind the bar to make ten drinks. It’s not like you were going to make Morgan, the barista on shift, make them all.

You always had a hard time not working on your days off.

“You should absolutely come!”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You reply, still not fully checked back into your conversation with Neil.

He smiles, “Great! I’ll send you the info!”

Before you can ask what you actually agreed to, Carmy pushes back into the room, to-go container in hand. “Hey, uh, Fak, can you go take a look at the toilet for me?” You barely notice Neil leave, focusing more on how your chest releases as Carmen walks closer to you.

He hands you the container, and you murmur a soft, “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out, yeah?”

The thought is nice. Glancing behind him, you see Natalie and Richie watching through the window. “It’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You take a step back just as Carmy reaches out to you. You can’t run, they’d see you. Ask questions. They probably see a caged animal.

“Hey,” he whispers your name, “it’s just me.” He’s repeating the words you said to him the night you were here. You tear your eyes away from the kitchen, looking at him. “Lemme walk you out?”

With a nod, you let him guide you out the front door. The warm summer air washes over your skin, and you take in a deep breath. You count the lines in the sidewalk as you pass them, sipping at your iced latte. “It was cool of you to come by,” Carmy says. “And your jacket’s dope.”

He’s trying to make you feel better.

“Did you just say dope?” You peek over in his direction, catching his shrug. “You’re so old.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs, and your smile widens.

You make it to your car, a little thing that has a new problem every other week. It’s been with you for years, moved with you to five different states. More of a sentimental object, than a real mode of transportation. You mostly used CTA these days if you were able, but it was nice to have a car for when you’re running errands all around the city.

“Sorry if they bothered you,” he apologizes, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No, no, no,” you push out the words, throat tightening, arms hugging your middle. “I thought I was going to try to be a human today. May have jumped the gun on that one.” Fiddling with your keys, you continue, “It was nice to see you. Thought you might be a vampire or something, since I only ever see you at night.”

The joke causes Carmy to roll his eyes, “Is that considered a cryptid?”

You perk up at the word, “Oh, don’t get me started.”

He smiles big enough for his dimple to appear, “Oh, yeah?”

“Unless you want me to talk for hours on end. I’ll make a power-point presentation and everything.” You might already have one in the works, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You could - I mean, it wouldn’t bother me. If you did, you know?”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. He looks shy, almost. Like the first time you met him, but there’s something between you now. A plant that will keep growing - might even bloom - if the two of you keep watering it. He keeps pecking away at your carefully crafted walls that let people see exactly how much you want them to.

Carmen Berzatto keeps seeing you. Whoever that is.

He coughs, scratching the side of his head. “I’ll see you later?”

“You know where I’ll be.”

“Yeah.”

You walk around to the driver’s side of your car, opening the door. You slide in, turning the key to let your car sputter to life. You roll the windows down, and music starts to blare from your speakers. “Kick ass tonight!” You yell the words as you pull away from the curb. You spare a glance in your rearview, watching Carmy wave before he starts walking back to his restaurant.

When you're parked outside your apartment, it hits you. You dig into your tote bag, pushing aside old receipts, chapstick tubes, and fidget toys. You cheer to yourself as you pull your notebook out, favorite pen hooked over the cover. Flipping to the back, you stare at the list of drinks you've had Carmy try.

You think you want to keep seeing him, too. Whoever that is.

You scribble at the bottom of the page, circling it twice.

Spiced Chai ~ HOT, xtra cinn

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #neurodivergent!reader #— moth writes

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totalswag · 10 months ago

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pairs love - DREW STARKEY

authors not since drew is in pairs at the fashion shows i thought why not write something cute and adorable. like can we talk about how freaking good he looked walking around ugh. the poll is officially over and the rafe series won! ima start working on the master list and have it up.

summary you come out to visit your boyfriend in pairs during fashion week.

warnings kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower

Drew was invited to two fashion shows in Paris: menswear for Prada and Loewe menswear. He left three days ago, while you stayed at home to put the finishing touches on your flower garden.

You couldn't be more proud of your boyfriend with all the success he's gained over the past couple years. He truly deserves this. Getting the recognition he deserves.

Last night, you landed in Pairs, drained from hours on the plane and eager to shower and sleep on a bed. It felt good seeing Drew and being in his arms. Although it was three days without each other, you always miss his presence.

Drew had the day off, so he planned to take you out to dinner, walk around, shopping, and visit the Eiffel Tower. He advised you to get enough rest early so you have enough rest to explore the Pairs at night.

During dinner, Drew spoke about what the shows were like and meeting celebs he's seen in movies or other people for the first time. It was really cool hearing what he had to say.

You were quite excited to visit the Eiffel Tower. You've always wanted to see it in person someday. Your inner child was jumping up and down inside.

"That restaurant was so delicious; I can see why you enjoy it so much," you tell Drew, tucking your hands into your coat to keep them warm from the cold.

"I'm glad to hear that you liked it baby," He smiles, tilts his head to the side, and blushes.

You chuckle as you playfully nudge his arm. He pretends to fall on his side, with a dramatic expression on his face.

"You are such a dork," you laugh.

"Your favorite dork, dork," he responds in a playful tone, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you continue walking down the sidewalk.

Drew and you went inside a few stores that caught your eye; you might've bought a few things. Drew watched you in awe as you showed him different clothing throughout the store.

"What do you think about this one?" You inquired Drew, holding two clothes that piqued your interest.

Drew hurriedly glances aside from the apparel rack he was browsing. His brows furrow as he casts a stern stare with his pointer finger on his chin.

"I think both will look great on you, but I'd go with this one because it draws your eyes out," he says casually, sweeping his arm toward the shirt you first showed him.

"You are too sweet, you know that" you reply as you turn around, putting back the other clothing item.

He loves seeing you happy. He knew how much you've always wanted to visit Pairs and thought this was the best time to go.

"Thank you for the stuff, baby," you grin, gripping his hand and lifting the bag with your other hand.

When you went out of the last store, you heard people heading in your direction, fans. They walked forward with grins on their faces, carrying items for him to sign and their phones for photos.

When one fan spotted you were with him, she screamed your name out in delight, and the rest followed after. You put your free hand over your heart with a pout before beaming at the little fans.

We love you Drew

This is the best day of my life

I can't believe he's in front of me

He's so beautiful in person

Drew started taking pictures with the fans; giving them hugs, making videos for fans that couldn't make it, signed a few things, and had conversations.

Fans also came up to as well. They were all so sweet and caring. One fan came up to you with tears forming in her eyes, you opened your arms to welcome her.

You are so sweet, Y/N

You are so gorgeous

Can't believe you are here too

I love your relationship with Drew

When word spread that Drew was in a relationship, all of the fans went crazy, searching for who this mystery girl was. You were apprehensive about how the fans might react.

You eventually posted a TikTok video with your best friend, Madelyn Cline, and Drew happened to be in the background; people then connected the dots. In the end, they loved and admired you.

Being in a relationship with someone in the public spotlight offers advantages and disadvantages, but you wouldn't alter it for anything, especially if you love them.

"Don't cry now love," you tell her softly, "what's your name?" She tells you her name and goes on to explain how much she loves you and your content you post.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you."

You spent ten minutes with the girls until it was ready to go look at the Eiffel Tower.

The Eiffel Tower was everything you've dreamed of. Seeing it in person was one of the best feelings in the world. So many emotions were going through your body.

You got out your phone to capture some photos and videos to share later tomorrow. Drew snapped a photo of you with his digital camera, capturing the tower, and he couldn't help but smile.

He carefully put his arms around your waist, drawing you into his front, chin on top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly and silently while savoring the moment.

"This has been one of the greatest days of my entire life. Being here with you in your arms in Pairs. I just want to say thank your for bringing me out here and experiencing this."

You feel your body relax in his touch, allowing a sigh to escape your lips, your head to strike his chest, and giving him the opportunity to kiss you.

You two don't give a damn whether anyone witnesses you kissing at this point. Right now, just the two of you matter because you are in love. And you are in Pairs.

"I had to bring you out here with me, of course, sweetheart. You keep me warm, too, and I love holding you in my arms. However, when you consider it, this is our first trip to Europe as a couple” he says.

You move your body around so that your chests are against one another. In return, you up on your small toes and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.

I love you.

I love you more.

my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line over your name that means i couldn't find your account.

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @chenslucy @brooklynscherry-z @johannelis2302nely @rosezza @kaydr3venge

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒

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hgfictionwriter · 2 months ago

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D.D.

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and your friends need a ride home after a rowdy brunch together. Thankfully, ever patient, dutiful Jessie is there to drive you all - if she can endure the teasing and attention you and your friends shower her with.

Warning: Inebriation. Mild language.

A/N: Long suffering, Golden Retriever-esque girlfriend Jessie. I felt compelled to write a silly fluff piece after the recent angst.

Jessie frowned as she scanned the groups of people along the sidewalk while she slowly drove past several storefronts and restaurants. Then, even through the closed car windows, she could hear riotous hollering and laughing.

She shook her head and bit back a laugh as she spotted you and your friends standing out front of a restaurant clearly cracking yourselves up over God knows what.

She checked her mirror and pulled over, slowing to a stop. You spotted her and started jumping up and down waving excitedly, causing your friends to turn and do the same.

"Jessie!!" Your friends yelled and cheered as you all clamoured towards the car.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered under her breath as she sunk in her seat slightly and watched you all laughing and jostling against one another as you approached. You didn’t do this kind of thing too often, so it was amusing and she had to smile.

You reached the passenger door and bent down to smile and wave again before opening it. She'd just seen you this morning, but she found herself beaming upon seeing you again.

"Hi baby," you greeted as you climbed into the passenger seat, albeit, a bit clumsily. You immediately leaned over the middle console for a kiss and she fought through a laugh to give you one.

"How was your morning, baby," you went on as you went to put on your seatbelt, nearly knocking her water bottle out of the cupholder as you did so. She reached out to stabilize it while you didn't even notice.

"It was fine," she answered plainly, knowing you weren't even really listening. "How was-"

Your friends finally settled who was sitting where and opened the back doors to pile in, chaos ensuing, the car rocking back and forth as they all shuffled and pushed into place.

"Hi Jessie," they all said in unison in a singsong voice before they all doubled over into laughter. You joined them though you spun in your seat to playfully swat at them.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Jessie deadpanned, though she smirked at them in the rearview mirror. She placed an elbow on the arm rest and turned to face them. "How was brunch?"

Clearly, the drinks had been flowing.

"It was so good. You have to come next time," one of your friends said as she reached out and squeezed Jessie's arm. She rolled her eyes and sat forward in her seat again.

"And interrupt mimosa hours? Interrupt girl talk? No way. I couldn't," she said dramatically.

"You're allowed!" Your other friend said.

"And take away Y/N's chance to vent about me? No," Jessie went on with a teasing look your way. You laughed, swatting at her arm.

"Yeah right," your friend dismissed readily. "The worst thing she has to say about you is that you try to make her eat kale chips instead of regular chips."

"I'm a monster," Jessie said dryly.

"Yeah, that's why you're the only one brave enough to pick us up," your other friend said, all of you dissolving into laughter again. "Lord knows [their bf] is ‘too busy’."

"He's such an asshole," you blurted out. "You just need to dump his ass already."

"Well, when you find me someone as lovely as this angel over here," your friend said in exaggeration as she gestured in Jessie's direction, "I will." She leaned forward, almost falling off her seat as she tried to get Jessie's attention. "Y/N said you have a brother. Is he like you? Is he single?"

"Nope," Jessie cut-off, holding up a hand and shaking her head. "We're not going there." Despite herself, she could feel her face heating up under the attention of your friends. It was like this every time, drinks or not. She turned around and pointed to each of your friends. "Seatbelts."

"Yes, Jessie," they answered in that silly singsong response again and Jessie flushed further. She sighed exaggeratedly before turning on her blinker and pulling out into traffic.

"You guys," you said sarcastically as you turned around again to face your friends. "Stop fawning over her like that. You know she hates the attention," you finished with an eyeroll before cocking your head at her, a lilt in your voice. "She can't help it if she's the sweetest, most beautiful, nerdiest, yet incredibly athletic, woman alive."

The car erupted in giggles.

"Oh my God," Jessie said over the noise. "You can all rideshare next time."

"You say that, but you love us," your friend said as she leaned forward, hands on the back of Jessie's seat. She let herself fall back into her own seat and snickered. "And lord knows you wouldn't want your Y/N risking a rideshare with some stranger."

"I'd be more concerned for the stranger than for you, lot," she retorted, cracking a smirk.

The quips and teasing continued throughout the ride.

"I'm hungry," you complained as she was a few blocks away from her first drop-off. A half hearted glower crossed her face as she shot you a look.

"Yeah, me too!" Came a chime of replies.

She shook her head. "Seriously? I thought you all just ate."

"Don't judge us," you chided teasingly, knowing she was just giving you all a hard time. "Where are you going to take us for food?" You asked lightly as you looked out the window. Jessie sighed and updated her navigation.

She sighed once more as she went through the impossible feat of trying to round up your orders as she pulled up to a nearby drive thru. One of your friends changed her order as Jessie was finishing relaying things and she called back, "No, I already ordered."

"Jess," you pleaded, drawing out her name. "Be nice."

She whipped her head around to look at you. She mouthed. "Be nice?" She laughed. "I'm driving your tipsy asses all around town and getting you lunch! Be nice," she finished with a scoff. Though she, of course, did update the order. Begrudgingly? Exasperated? Perhaps. But she couldn’t say ‘no’ to you.

You gave her an apologetic look and rubbed her arm in consolation before kissing her hand. She shook her head at herself. Who was she kidding - if you asked her this second to drive a town over ‘just because’, she would’ve if it would make you happy.

The car was refreshingly quiet as you all sipped on your drinks and ate your food, but it only lasted so long. The sustenance seemed to top up all of your energy levels and now you were all singing along to some ridiculous pop song you'd put on.

Finally, she reached your one friend's house, pulling into her driveway.

"Thank you, Jessie," your friend said sweetly as she pulled herself forward in her seat to give Jessie a peck on the cheek. The brunette grimaced and she brought her shoulders up around her ears as her face began to burn hot.

Each drop off went the same. They tortured her with a kiss on the cheek and one, your best friend, pinching her cheek lightly before ducking out with a laugh.

“Love you two!” Your friend called as she half stumbled up the walk to her door with a wave.

Jessie waited dutifully until your friend was safely in the house before she put the car in reverse and pulled out.

“Thank God,” she groaned facetiously as she let her head fall back heavily against the headrest. She glanced purposefully at you to find you smiling adoringly at her. She feigned a frown anyway. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re a good sport,” you smiled.

“Don’t you forget it,” Jessie laughed and drove you both home.

“Thank you, baby,” you said as you leaned in and gave her a kiss once you were inside the apartment. She could still taste a faint hint of booze on your lips and she gave you an amused look. You just smiled in a mild daze. “You’re the best.”

You spun on your heel and clasped your hands together. “Oo can we watch [y/favourite movie]?”

Jessie chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Can I read my book at the same time?”

You rested your palms on her shoulders and leaned heavily in, lips stopping an inch from hers. “Of course, baby.”

Jessie rolled her eyes again and gave you a smirk as she turned you around and ushered you towards the couch. “Let’s get you settled.”

You started the movie and she laid out a blanket over you. She gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m gonna grab my book and I’ll bring you some water,” she told you as she turned to leave.

“Want me to take something out of the freezer for dinner?” She called as she came back down the hall and ducked into the kitchen. She opened the freezer and peeked over her shoulder when she heard no response. “Babe?”

She closed the drawer and returned to the living room. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she saw you sprawled out on the couch fast asleep.

A goofy grin crossed her face as she quietly crossed the room over to you. The blanket had fallen partially off of you and she gingerly pulled it back up over you. She pushed a stray lock of hair out of your face and paused the movie.

She snickered quietly as she gently sat down next to you and opened her book. She whispered. “Wild brunch, hey babe?”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #jflem #woso #wlw fluff

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pucksandpower · 6 months ago

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Party Girl

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Logan Sargeant x Hunt!Reader

Summary: Logan tries to save a notorious party girl from herself (or in which going wild runs in the Hunt family)

Warnings: illicit substances and peer-pressure

The nightclub’s bass thumps through Logan’s chest as the trio approaches the entrance. Lando and Oscar turn to him with matching grins.

“You ready for this, mate?” Lando asks.

Logan eyes the mass of people spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course!” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be brilliant. Especially with you keeping an eye on the hostess.”

“Me?” Logan’s brow furrows.

Lando nods. “You’re our designated driver tonight, so you’ll be the soberest one here. We need you to keep Y/N from going too far off the rails.”

“Why me though? I barely know her.”

“Exactly!” Oscar exclaims. “She doesn’t really know you either, so she’ll actually listen instead of brushing you off like she does with the rest of us.”

Logan frowns. “I don’t know, guys ...”

“Oh, come on!” Lando wheedles. “You’ve heard the stories about James Hunt. Partying is in her DNA. We just need to make sure she doesn’t take after her grandad too much tonight.”

With a sigh, Logan relents. “Alright, fine. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble.”

The two grin and clap him on the back before leading the way inside. The throbbing music and flashing lights assault Logan’s senses as they enter. He scans the crowd, quickly spotting a vaguely familiar mane of untamed waves.

You’re laughing uproariously at something one of your friends said, drink sloshing precariously in your hand. Your cheeks are already flushed, eyes bright with intoxication and mirth. A pang of concern flutters in Logan’s chest — Lando and Oscar weren’t kidding about keeping an eye on you.

Making his way through the press of bodies, Logan sidles up next to you. You glance over with a brilliant smile.

“Heyyy, you made it!”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Logan replies, suddenly feeling awkward. “Your friends invited me to, you know, keep things under control.”

You giggle. “Under control? What fun is that?”

Taking a swig of your drink, you spin away to dance with your friends, moving your hips enticingly. Logan swallows hard, trying not to stare. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The evening blurs by in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Wherever you go, Logan follows at a respectful distance. He rebuffs anyone trying to offer you illicit substances and intervenes whenever your friends get too rowdy.

A few times you shoot him annoyed glares, but he just shrugs apologetically. He’s only doing what Lando and Oscar asked. Besides, he reasons, better to have you mad at him than in real danger.

As the hour grows later, your movements become more uncoordinated, laughter louder and words more slurred. Logan hovers closer, concern mounting.

“Ohhh, Logannnnn,” you croon, draping yourself over him. “You’re sooo stuffy. Live a little!”

He gently extracts himself from your embrace. “I think you’ve lived enough for tonight, Y/N.”

Pouting, you turn away petulantly. Logan watches as a few of your more unscrupulous friends surround you with sly grins. Alarm spikes through him when he sees one of them press something into your palm.

“Hey!” Pushing forward, he places himself between you and them. “Back off. She’s not interested.”

You blink at him owlishly while your friends sneer.

“Who’re you to decide for her, pretty boy?”

“Someone who actually cares if she’s okay.” Logan holds his ground.

With a drunken giggle, you lean against his back. “S’ok, Logieee. Lemme have some fun!”

“No, Y/N.” He spins to face you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “That stuff is bad news. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Your eyes are glazed, but you search his face like you’re trying to understand. One of your friends makes another attempt to press the little baggie into your hand. Without thinking, Logan bats it away. It goes flying across the club, spilling white powder everywhere.

“Dude!” Your friend shouts, outraged.

Logan doesn’t give them a chance to react further. Scooping you up in his arms, he starts carrying you away from the crowd. You’re tiny and warm against his chest, still giggling faintly.

“Mmm, Logan ... gonna getcha in trouble ...”

“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters.

Pushing his way through the throngs of people, Logan finally breaks free into the cool night air. He sets you on your feet, but keeps a steadying hand on your waist when you sway unsteadily.

Up close like this, he can make out the flushed skin across your nose, the flecks of light reflecting in your warm eyes. For a moment you just gaze at each other, the sounds of the party muffled behind the club’s doors.

Then your brow furrows. “Why’d ya stop me? I was jus’ havin’ fun.”

Logan shakes his head slowly. “That kind of fun isn’t good for you, Y/N. Your friends, they ... they weren’t looking out for your best interests back there.”

“You don’ even know me!” You protest, pushing away from him on unsteady feet.

Without thinking, Logan catches your hands in his. They’re so tiny, delicate, yet topped with nails sharp enough to take an eye out. Just like the rest of you — an enigmatic mix of fragile beauty and uncompromising tenacity.

“You’re right, I don’t really know you,” he admits. “But I know that you’re strong. Braver and tougher than anyone gives you credit for. And you don’t need that junk to be the life of the party.”

For a long moment, you simply stare at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you nod. A few stray tendrils of hair fall across your face and Logan’s fingers itch to brush them back. He tamps down the urge.

“M’sorry I made a scene back there,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Hey.” Logan ducks his head to catch your eye again. “Don’t be sorry. Those people, they ...” He shakes his head in disgust. “You deserve better friends than that.”

Pink dusts your cheeks as the corners of your mouth tick upwards. “You’re sweet, Logan. A real gentleman.”

“I just call it like I see it,” he replies with a shrug.

You laugh softly then, a warm, rich sound that sends tingles down Logan’s spine. When you speak again, your voice is clearer, more sober.

“I guess tonight got a little out of hand. Sometimes I go too far trying to live up to the reputation of my last name. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, we all have things we’re trying to prove.” Logan squeezes your hands reassuringly. “But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I can already see how amazing you are.”

For a beat, you simply stare at him, eyes shining. Then, surging up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Logan freezes for half a second before melting into the embrace, pulling you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back with everything he has.

When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Logan rests his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” is all he can think to say.

You grin impishly up at him. “Now there’s a party I wouldn’t mind getting carried away at.”

Logan can’t help but laugh. Tucking you into his side, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

***

Logan jolts awake to the sound of insistent pounding on his hotel room door. Squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and shuffles to answer it.

“About damn time!” Lando’s voice greets him as soon as the door opens. “Do you know how long we’ve been stuck outside?”

Oscar shoulders past Logan into the room. “Yeah, mate. Abandoning your friends at the club? Not cool.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion until the previous night’s events come trickling back. The party, the near miss with the drugs, getting you safely away ...

His gaze drifts to the rumpled bed across the room where you’re just starting to stir, sheets tangled around your legs. A soft smile tugs at Logan’s lips as he watches you blink owlishly.

“Earth to Logan?” Lando waves a hand in front of his face. “You still with us?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Logan drags his attention back to the two drivers. “Look, I can explain about last night ...”

“No need to explain why you ditched us,” Oscar interjects with a suggestive wink toward the bed. “We can figure that part out for ourselves.”

You sit upright then, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rub your eyes. “Whas’ goin’ on?”

“Well, well!” Lando exclaims with a salacious grin. “If it isn’t the life of the party herself! Get up to any ... extracurriculars last night?”

Heat creeps up the back of Logan’s neck as you glance between the three of them in sleepy bewilderment. A strangled laugh escapes Oscar’s lips as the realization hits both of them. You and Logan lock eyes from across the room, equally mortified.

“No, wait! It’s not what it looks like!” Logan splutters.

Lando claps a hand on his shoulder with a pitying look. “It’s alright, mate. You don’t have to be ashamed about finally getting some action.”

“But I didn’t!” Logan insists, running a flustered hand through his hair. “Y/N, tell them!”

Untangling yourself from the sheets, you slide off the bed — giving everyone an eyeful of the fact that you’re only wearing one of Logan’s hoodies. His breath catches in his throat because damn if you don’t look incredible drowning in his clothes.

Your bare feet pad across the carpet until you’re standing before him, fingers playing with the worn cotton hem. “He’s right, you two. We didn’t ... you know.”

Hurt flashes across Logan’s face before he can squelch it back down. Right, of course you wouldn’t want that after all the lines he crossed last night. You’d been drunk and vulnerable and now you were regretting everything, including the–

“We kissed! But it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he blurts out, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I got Y/N out of a bad situation and we may have, uh, gotten a little carried away in the heat of the moment. But she was drunk and it won’t happen again, I swear.”

An awkward silence falls over the room, broken only by Lando’s snort of laughter. “No rizz, this one.”

Logan’s jaw clenches. He knew they’d tease him about it, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need to take it from the likes of–

“Logan.”

Your voice is soft but it cuts through the embarrassment swirling in his mind. You take his face gently in your hands and he’s helpless but to meet your warm gaze.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

The air whooshes out of him in a surprised breath. His hands find your waist of their own accord like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Y-You do?”

Behind you, Oscar groans. “God, he’s so hopeless.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Lando retorts. “Innocent, you know? Like a puppy getting all flustered.”

Logan blocks them out, his whole world narrowing to the amused, almost fond smile playing across your lips. You nod, leaning further into his embrace.

“I meant what I said last night, Logan. You’re the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met. And I like you.” Your nose wrinkles adorably. “A lot, actually.”

He blinks rapidly, certain his heart is about to burst out of his chest. “Y/N, I ... I like you too. So much.”

Laughing that rich, warm laugh of yours, you loop your arms around his neck and rise up on your tiptoes. Logan meets you halfway, melting into the heated press of your lips against his.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles finally penetrate the happy bubble enveloping you both. You break the kiss with a breathless giggle, burrowing your face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Oscar hollers. “Get a room!”

“Yeah, we’ve already got one!” Logan shoots back, surprising himself with the retort. He winks cheekily at you and you positively beam in response, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Alright, that’s our cue!” Lando steers Oscar toward the door. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

The door slams behind them, leaving you and Logan alone in blissful quiet. His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. For a few heartbeats, you simply drink each other in, basking in the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings bubbling up.

Eventually you break the spell with a featherlight brush of your lips against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “So, was that too forward? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you ...”

“No!” He rushes to reassure you. “God, no. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You poke his chest lightly, eyes dancing with mirth. “Not even racing?”

Logan chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay, maybe one other thing. But you’re definitely in the top two.”

Winding your arms back around his neck, you arch one brow mischievously. “Only top two? I’ll have to work on that ...”

His breath catches in his throat at the playful promise in your tone. “I, uh ... I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

As you lean in to kiss him again, Logan can’t help but silently thank Lando and Oscar for dragging him to that party. True, the night didn’t go exactly as expected. But he wound up with the greatest prize of all — you, here in his arms, carefree and happy and perfect in every way.

Like the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Logan vows silently to cherish every moment with you. After all, only a fool would look a gift horse like you in the mouth.

***

Adrenaline still thrums through Logan’s veins as he exits parc fermé, helmet tucked under his arm. His cheeks ache from the wide grin stretched across his face — a double points finish was exactly what Williams needed.

Alex falls into step beside him, equally elated after their impressive showing on the track today. They did good, really good. Logan can’t wait to celebrate with the whole team.

As they approach the Williams garage, a familiar head of hair catches Logan’s eye. You’re standing front and center, bouncing on the balls of your feet with poorly contained excitement. A large bakery box is clutched in your hands, the elaborate logo on the lid leaving little doubt as to its expensive contents.

Logan’s grin widens impossibly further. Of course you’d be here with treats in tow, always ready to turn any occasion into a party. His heart swells with affection just watching you eagerly await his and Alex’s return.

The rest of the team notice their arrival and erupt into cheers, crowding around to clap the drivers on the back with jubilant congratulations. You hang back, though your whole face is lit up with unabashed pride.

“Nice one out there, lads!” An engineer calls over the ruckus.

“About time we had a good points haul,” Another mechanic agrees.

Logan waves off the compliments with a bashful duck of his head. The team has been through so much in recent seasons — they deserve this moment more than he does.

“Alright, alright! Give the boys some space to breathe!” A familiar voice rings out.

You shove your way through the throngs of people, bounding right up to Logan with a brilliant grin. He has a split second to brace himself before you launch into his arms, nearly sending him toppling backward with the force of your enthusiasm.

“You were brilliant!” You exclaim, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek that has him blushing furiously. “Both of you! I’m so proud!”

Alex chuckles fondly as you untangle yourself from Logan just enough to loop an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “We couldn’t have done it without the team’s hard work. You should be proud of them.”

“Oh, I am!” You turn your beaming smile on the rest of the crew. “Which is why I brought a little celebratory treat!”

Holding up the bakery box with a waggle of your brows, you peel back the lid to reveal a massively decadent-looking chocolate cake. It’s one of the most elaborate confections Logan has ever laid eyes on.

A reverent hush falls over the assembled group as they all lean in to get a better look. The air is suddenly thick with the rich scent of cocoa and buttercream frosting.

“Blimey, Y/N! That must’ve set you back a pretty penny!” Alex exclaims.

You wave him off with a casual flap of your hand. “Oh, please! You don’t even want to know how many races I’ve brought an expensive cake to just in case. I’m just glad I finally got to use this one!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the crew at that. Logan shakes his head in fond exasperation, equal parts endeared and unsurprised by your extravagant gesture.

When your gaze lands on him again, warmth blooms in his chest at the open adoration shining in your eyes. You look at him like he’s the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen, not some lucky racer who simply played a tiny part in today’s success.

Liquid courage from the race still thrumming through his veins, Logan acts on impulse. Plucking the cake box deftly from your grip, he passes it off to a bewildered Alex before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you soundly.

A startled squeak quickly melts into a pleased hum as you melt against him, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Logan pours every ounce of his pride and affection for you into the heated press of his lips, uncaring of the captive audience for once.

Hoots and hollers finally break through the rosy haze fogging Logan’s mind. He breaks the kiss with a breathless chuckle, thumbs brushing over the delightfully flushed apples of your cheeks.

“Get a room, you two!” Alex hollers with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the crew quickly devolves into jokes and ribbing at your expense, but Logan couldn’t care less. With you smiling up at him like he hung the moon, the rest of the world simply falls away.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

The impish grin you shoot him in return makes his heart stutter. “Well, it wouldn’t be a proper party without dessert.”

An arm slings around Logan’s shoulders, disrupting the little bubble you’ve found yourselves cocooned in. He startles, having completely forgotten about the dozens of other people still milling about.

“Well isn’t this just precious!” Gaetan, Logan’s race engineer, gives him an affectionate shake. “Young love blossoming right here in the garage!”

Red blooms high on Logan’s cheeks even as your melodic giggles wash over him. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We’re not that young.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Gaetan retorts with a bark of laughter. “You two have more spark than the rest of the kids around here combined.”

Your hand finds Logan’s, tangling your fingers together as you lean bodily into his side. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to bask in the happiness surrounding him. It’s like floating, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be right here to keep him grounded.

“You know,” you begin softly, batting your lashes up at Logan. “This might just be my new favorite party.”

A surprised huff of laughter escapes him. But really, he shouldn’t be so shocked. From the moment he met you, it was clear you had an unparalleled zest for life. You see the joy and potential for a good time in every single occasion. It’s one of the many, many things Logan loves about you.

“Your favorite, huh?” He bends to press his forehead to yours, drinking in your radiant smile. “I’ll remember this one, then.”

Because no matter how many parties, races, or adventures you two share moving forward, Logan vows to cherish each and every one with you by his side. After all, every single moment is worth celebrating when you get to spend it with the person you love most.

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cal-flakes · 1 year ago

Note

reader calling protective!rafe when a creepy guy seems to be following her home

╰┈➤ protective!rafe hc’s

warnings: light swearing, mentions of violence.

: ̗̀➛ rafe cameron is sooo scary boyfriend!

: ̗̀➛ he was unbelievably protective of y/n when they were just friends, but when they finally got together? so so much worse.

: ̗̀➛ rafe’s protectiveness ranges from actual acts of protecting her from things/people, to subtly covering table corners or steering her away from the road when she’s not paying attention.

: ̗̀➛ their relationship blossomed when he was the only person available to come to her rescue that time she was being followed home.

: ̗̀➛ “rafe..” she whispered, holding her phone in her trembling hand.

: ̗̀➛ he was there in an instant, screeching around corners and running red lights just to get to her.

: ̗̀➛ “get in, i’ll be back in a minute..” he breathed, slamming the driver’s side door before stalking over to the suspicious man.

: ̗̀➛ “you like following girls home huh?” he snapped, throwing a jaw breaking punch at the man.

: ̗̀➛ y/n covered her eyes, the temptation to watch rafe beat said man to a bloody pulp creeping into her mind.

: ̗̀➛ “you alright?” he asked, breathless as he calmly got back into the car, turning the key in the ignition while blood trickled from his knuckles.

: ̗̀➛ y/n invited him to stay the night at her place, on the basis that she felt like she owed him.

: ̗̀➛ he put up a good fight, but he was soon perched on her kitchen island, staring intently at her hands as they worked to clean and bandage his.

: ̗̀➛ “thanks” he’d mutter, feeling slightly awkward now that he was cleaned up, lingering in her kitchen.

: ̗̀➛ “go sit down, i’ll get you something to eat..”

: ̗̀➛ he reluctantly agreed, making himself at home on her plush couch, waiting for her to join him.

: ̗̀➛ “okay, so i don’t have much, do you like pepperoni pizza?”

: ̗̀➛ his eyes lit up at the thought, frantically nodding in agreement.

: ̗̀➛ “good, cause i love pepperoni pizza!” she giggled.

: ̗̀➛ returning with the now-cooked pizza, she cut it into slices before sitting opposite him, leaning back onto the arm of the couch.

: ̗̀➛ the pair spent the night laughing about old memories, having known each other since 1st grade.

: ̗̀➛ he sighed contently every so often, surprised at himself for feeling so comfortable with y/n, the girl he’d never really been that close with.

: ̗̀➛ as the night came to a close, they debated sleeping arrangements.

: ̗̀➛ “rafe, just get in the fucking bed!” she called, laughing at his hesitancy.

: ̗̀➛ “seriously, i’ll just take the couch..”

: ̗̀➛ “shut up! if i hate sleeping on that couch, you’ll hate sleeping on the couch, now stop being a pussy and get in the bed!”

: ̗̀➛ groaning, he gave in, slipping under the covers, keeping as much distance as possible.

: ̗̀➛ when y/n awoke in the morning, to find rafe cameron’s arm around her, she was certainly shocked, to say the least.

: ̗̀➛ and when he asked what she was doing that day? to see if she wanted to get some lunch with him? she was absolutely floored.

: ̗̀➛ rafe cameron, asking her to lunch? yes, absolutely yes.

: ̗̀➛ and it only got better from there, when they finally became official a couple months down the line.

: ̗̀➛ being rafe cameron’s girlfriend certainly came with its challenges.

: ̗̀➛ constant lectures about threatening any man that looks at her the wrong way? yes.

: ̗̀➛ constantly dragging him away from the pogues before he caused them any harm? yes.

: ̗̀➛ constantly being pulled to sit on his lap, so he can keep an eye on her at all times? yes.

: ̗̀➛ y/n couldn’t go to the bathroom at a party without rafe worrying, resulting in him waiting outside for her, every time.

: ̗̀➛ and he always made sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, keeping her on the inside.

: ̗̀➛ and he’d always keep a hand around her waist, to guide her whichever way when she was distracted.

: ̗̀➛ rafe was her own personal guard dog, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.

: ̗̀➛ but wow, she couldn’t even bare to think about what he’ll be like if they have a daughter.

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reidsbabyhoney · 24 days ago

Text

night out | hozier

the one where he gets drunk and falls in love with you all over again.

pairing: hozier x wife!reader category: fluff cw: drinking, being at a bar wc: 1.7k a/n: I'm so so sorry this took so long to write, I just had midterms for all of my classes and had absolutely no free time, but I'm finally on break so Im hoping to get more stories out these next couple of weeks! this was a request, so i hope you love it. reader is a book store owner and that is very self indulgent of my dreams of one day maybe owing a book store if nothing else works out for me. (outfit described can be found here, but as always imagine it however you like

masterlist hozier masterlist

This was the first time in what felt like years that you and Andrew were finally taking up an offer to go out.

Since the tour began, the band had invited you both out multiple times, but neither of you accepted, claiming to be too tired after the shows.

Since this was the first time that you had been able to join Andrew on tour, you were taking up as much quality time as you could get from him when he wasn't busy running around during sound check and doing interviews.

That was another reason you both declined going out multiple times deciding to spend...quality time with each other behind the doors of hotel rooms.

But tonight, you both agreed to go out when Alex asked if you would be joining the rest of the band, saying they were going to a bar just down the street from the hotel you were staying at.

Walking down the sidewalk to the bar, you’re hand in hand with Andrew who’s softly humming to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says, taking in your outfit.

It was nothing extravagant, though you did want to look a bit nicer. Just a simple satin slip dress with some red boots for a pop of color and your usual purse.

“Mm thank you, you look handsome tonight too, I say we just go back to the hotel room,” you respond with a mischievous smile.

He’s simply wearing a jumper with a white t-shirt underneath and a pair of jeans, but the way his sleeves are rolled up makes you want to drag him back to the hotel room and stay there for days.

At your remark, he playfully pinches your hip and shakes his head, “No, you minx. We’re going out because you wanted to, let’s keep that in mind.”

You let out a huff as he opens the door to the bar, which looks to be busy as you eye the tables are full of people.

Surveying the bar, you quickly spot Melissa and both make your way towards the table they’ve claimed.

After greeting them all, everyone goes their own way. Alex decides to drag Andrew to the corner of the bar where the pool tables are stationed.

Over hearing his plans on getting your husband absolutely hammered tonight, you simply shake your head with a small laugh and send him off with a kiss.

An hour passes and you've had a few drinks, deciding to stay near the table and observe everyone in the cramped space.

Realizing you haven't seen Andrew in a while, you get up from your spot at the table, asking Joy if she’d seen him anywhere.

“Oh yeah, last I saw he and Alex were by the bar, I think Melissa might be over there too,” she says, pointing to where Andrew’s tall body stood at the end of the bar.

“Thank you.”

You walk over to where the three of them are standing, deciding to talk to Melissa first since Alex seems to have your husband deep in thought.

“Please tell me he hasn’t had more than 4 drinks,” you say to Melissa as she just lets out a laugh.

“I’m afraid he might be well past that y/n/n.”

Turning towards Andrew you see him looking at you as if he was met with the most divine creature in the world.

“Go on, talk to the pretty girl Andy,” says Alex, trying his hardest to hold back a laugh.

Your eyebrows basically reach your hairline as he says that, no way he’s so hammered he’s forgotten you’re married.

“Hi, em, hi, m’names Andrew, or Andy’s fine too,” he says looking a bit shy.

You just look towards Alex instead of answering, "Alex, when you said you planned on getting him hammered, I didn't think you meant it was going to be this bad!"

All he does is laugh and shrug his shoulders, finding this situation amusing.

Sighing, you know there’s no way that he’ll believe you’re truly married if you try explaining it to him now, so you decide to play into it a bit.

Smiling you shake your head and respond “ I’m y/n, it’s great to meet you Andy.”

Both Melissa and Alex just laugh, deciding to leave you both in the empty corner of the bar.

“I hope I’m not being too forward y/n, but you’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You grow a bit shy at his words, your cheeks covered in a faint blush. The conversation is reminding you of when you first met years ago, his words almost the exact same.

“No baby, not too forward at all."

“I just, well not to sound creepy, but you caught my eye while you were sitting down over there and I'm afraid to admit I was nervous to go over and introduce myself first," he says looking down at his hands as if he's embarrassed by his confession.

Your smile brightens at his words. You're truly about to swoon over this man all over again.

"Well then, I'm glad I came over here first. How about we go sit down with our friends over there yeah?” you say, pointing to where the rest of the band is.

Andrew responds by quickly nodding his head and grabbing your hand to guide you through the still very packed bar.

“Here come the lovebirds.”

Of course it’s Alex that says this, still finding extreme delight in your husband's current state.

Looking at the rest of the table, it seems like he’s caught everyone up on what’s happened because they all look at you with small smiles on their faces.

Taking your seat at the booth, sitting between Joy and Andrew the conversation starts back up again.

Your husband turns towards you and begins asking you questions.

"So, y/n, where are y'from," he asks. He's looking at you as if trying to memorize your every feature.

You shy under his intense stare, and it takes you a second to respond.

"Well, I live in Ireland."

His eyes basically pop out of his skull at your answer, surprised as if there aren't millions of people living in the country.

"Seriously, me too," his eyes bright with excitement realizing that this could possibly go somewhere, little does he [currently] know, it already has.

"Yeah I live in County Wicklow with my husband."

His face brightens then immediately falls once you finish your sentence.

"Husband?"

"Baby, look at your left hand for me, yeah?"

Doing as you say, Andrew looks at his hand that's rested on the table, finally noticing the wedding ring on his finger.

"Now take it off and look inside," you say, taking off your ring to show him the matching engraving details on the inside of both your rings.

"Andrew & y/n. April 23, 2022," he says reading the date of your wedding.

It takes him a second to realize what it means, but once it clicks, he's looking up at you, wide eyed.

"We're married! Alex, why didn't you say I was married to her," he says turning to his friend, who seems all too pleased that this conversation is happening.

Alex simply takes a swig of his beer and chuckles, "Y'never asked."

Andrew then turns towards you with embarrassment washing over his features, "Gods, I'm mortified love, and you're never going to let me live this down are you?"

You just shake your head and laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Nope."

Laughing at his reaction, you decide that it may be time to leave, realizing it's nearing one in the morning.

"C'mon, let's go back to the hotel so you have enough rest to actually be embarrassed about this tomorrow."

With that, you get out of the booth and say your goodbyes to everyone.

Walking out of the bar, there's a slight chill in the air, causing Andrew to take off his sweater and hand it to you.

Taking it, you pull it over your dress and walk hand in hand back to the hotel.

Reaching your room, you pull out the key card to your shared room, opening the door wide enough for both of you to walk in.

"I can't believe I'm so far gone I didn't even remember we were married," Andrew says as he sits down on the bed to take off his shoes.

"I know, me either, I mean how could you forget you were married to me," you say jokingly, dragging your hands down your body to emphasize what he was forgetting.

Andrew just laughs and shakes his head.

He notices you going to the bathroom and turns towards you, "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit, I just need to take off my makeup," you reply.

Andrew patiently waits for you in the bed in his pajamas which consist of a pair of pajama pants that are far too old to still be worn, and a beat up shirt he'll eventually take off, claiming to be too hot. (Even though he'll later wrap his arms around you dragging you as close as he possibly could, and wake up in the morning complaining that you "radiate too much body heat", even if he's the one that starts the cuddling.)

Shortly after, you make your way out of the bathroom, fresh faced and in your own pajamas.

Getting under the covers you turn on the lamp on your nightstand and expectantly wait for Andrew to do the same.

When he doesn't, you look towards the end of the bed where he's sat.

"Andy, aren't you coming to bed?"

"I, I know we're married but, it feels odd sleeping with you, I feel like I should take you out to dinner first," he says sheepishly, finally turning to face you.

"Don't worry, you've wined and dined me many times, so I'm not worried about that, now let's go to sleep," you say.

Finally Andrew gets on his side of the bed, turning on his side so that he's facing you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh he just shakes his head and one final time asks, "I'm never forgetting about this am I?"

Letting out a fake snore, you pretend you're asleep instead of answering him though he already knows the answer.

Andrew just chuckles, knowing that whatever comes tomorrow would be worth it, cause he got to relive what it felt like to fall in love with you again.

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @man-i-love-folklore @the-song-of-flowers @songbirds-sweet @cowboycatreign @harnans @celery-grace @genevievetaylorsversion22 @alexis-34 @inejghafawifesblog @colddarkearth23 @hauntedworld @sleepy-time-dreamy @lemon9de @midsummervixen

#andrew hozier byrne #reidsbabyhoney #my fics #hozier x reader #hozier #hozier x fem!reader #fluff #hozier fic recs #I'm sorry this took me so long I've been in a writing slump please forgive me

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2knightt · 10 months ago

Text

「 i ruin it all by saying somethin’ stupid.」

IN WHICH—you think you ruined everything by telling your best friend you love him.♡ ໋֢ ✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅: n’ two people before me made fics similar to this! @/chillyfrys with sodapop x male!reader and @/dearnows with the whole gang. go read both! they’re both talented and lovely people🫶!

Dallas Winston ;

you two just finished pretending to be a couple getting married in a fancy restaurant to get free food.

you liked the rush and dallas was just really fucking hungry 😭. so when the idea was brought up, dallas just nodded.

you two walked out of the restaurant—shit eating grins on your faces as you hold in laughs. you pretend to marvel at the obviously fake and stolen ring dallas had pulled out.

once you felt like you were far away enough—you burst out laughing.

“i can’t believe we got away with it! like??”

“i’m a great actor, y/n.”

dallas said with a chuckle, looking over at you as he lit a cigarette, cupping a hand to protect the flame.

“yea. that’s why i love you, dallas.”

you immediately paused—the smile on your face dropping. you kinda just stared at the sidewalk in front of you, avoiding dallas’ gaze like the plague.

dallas was silent, his head turned towards you. you both stopped walking, trying to process your words in two different ways.

in your head, you were screaming and crying. ‘FUCKFUCKFUVK😭😭😖😖.’ in dallas’ head he was jusy kinda more, ‘they fucking what?? i thought we were just friends?? are we not??’

“…yea?”

dally mumbled, his eyebrows raised as smoke seeped through his lips as he asked.

nervously, you stood up straight, lips tightened as you become more and more awkward by the second. nodding as you hum to begrudgingly confirm.

a chuckle left dallas’ throat as he sees your reaction. he took a drag from his cigarette before taking a small step closer toward you.

“cool.”

he mumbled, hooking a finger around your belt loops, pulling you closer toward him. you stumbled to his side, his hand resting on his backside.

dallas has never been the guy to outright say ‘i love you.’ but this is a start. you’re happy nonetheless with this, his hand on your lower back, guiding you.

his own way of not saying somethin’ stupid like you did.

“so…you love me, huh?”

“maybe.”

“…fuck you mean, ‘maybe’?!”

Johnny Cade ;

“i-i can’t do this anymore, y/n. i hate that damned house.”

“johnny, you’re always welcomed at mine. you know that.”

you found johnny on the verge of tears in the lot. your best friend was alone in such a time where he needed someone the most.

you rushed toward his side, sitting beside him on the cold grass. johnny rested a head on your shoulder as you rubbed his back, trying to provide any sort of comfort.

“i know. it’s just—i don’t know. jumpin’ at a fuckin’ bug ain’t a life for anyone.”

“jesus, johnny. i love you too much for you to be talkin’ like this.”

johnny nodded his head, not realizing the weight behind your words at first. you did, however.

your eyes widened as you tightened your lips. ‘FUCKKKK—DID HE REALIZE??? WHY DID I SAY THAT??? NONONONO, JOHNNY DON’T THINK TOO HARD ‘BOUT WHAT I SAID😭😖💔’

johnny blinked, realizing what you told him. did you mean it in the way he’s thinking? did you love love him? or was this all just some prank a bunch of soc’s put you up to?

he moved away from your shoulder, hugging his knees as he turned his head to look back at you.

“uh…what did you mean?”

johnny thought asking that would cost him his life. you’re just freaking out in your head.

‘FUCKKKKKK☹️ NONONO DON’T ASK ME THAT?? 😖I DON’T WANNA DO THIS WHOLE EMBARRASSING MOMENT ALL OVER AGAIN??’

“it’s nothin’, man. don’t look into it.”

you mumbled, trying to avoid the scenario in your head that you do redo your confession and he just spits on you before walking away.

johnny, however, wanted you to own up to it. it’d be a lot less work on his end. he adjusted his position, getting closer to you as he asked another question.

“tell me. please, y/n.”

you bit your tongue to stay away from saying something irrational.

“i just said i really like you. that’s all.”

you mumbled so quietly, johnny could barely hear. he was awfully glad that this road was almost dead, hearing you admit somethin’ stupid like that was lovely.

johnny shifted around where he sat, his back straightened as he played with with cuticles, picking at them to distract him from his own small confession.

“me too. i—uhm, like you too.”

johnny’s always had trouble saying ‘i love you.’ this is close enough for the both of you. it’s a start—a start to something better.

“why didn’t you just tell me, y/n?”

“I WAS FUCKINGSCARED!”

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you always liked pony. you never knew what it was. maybe it’s because he was nicer to you than other guys—or maybe it’s because you fell in love with your best friend.

it’s not like you know, anyways.

you were sleeping over at his house, you always do. darry and soda’ve gotten used to it by now—keeping spare everything’s around the house for you.

it was late at night, watching a bunch of movies you two made fun of repeatedly. ponyboy said he was gonna ‘rest his eyes’ but you knew that he was just gonna fall asleep.

his head fell onto your shoulder, his body entirely relaxed. seeing your best friend like this was heartwarming—it seemed ponyboy couldn’t get a break.

you adjusted your position so he’d be more comfortable, a hand over his gently. with your attention diverted away from the TV, you watched as strands of his hair fell over his forehead.

a quiet chuckle escaped your throat as you brushed them back, a small whisper leaving your lips as did so.

“god—i love you.”

‘thank GOD this man is asleep! ☺️🙈this’d be real fucking embarrassi-‘

“you what?”

ponyboy asked, a little a lot taken aback by the words that just left your mouth. his eyes were widened as his ears burned, sitting up straight.

you looked back at him with the same reaction—more embarrassed than anything. your eyes were darting all around the room as you tightened your lips.

“i didn’t say shit, man.”

“don’t even try that with me right now, y/n.”

your immediate thought was ‘hoooolyyyy fuck😰😰’ while ponyboy’s was, ‘can they just admit it already😐.’

“…weren’t you asleep?”

“don’t you have something to tell me?”

“no…”

ponyboy groaned, rolling his eyes at your answer as you toyed with your fingers, biting the inside of your cheek.

ponyboy just decided to say somethin’ stupid like you did—ready to get this 1000lbs weight off his shoulders.

“i love you too.”

he grumbled, crossing his arms as he went back to watching the movie. his posture faltered before a sigh left his lips, a head on your shoulder as you tried to process what just happened.

“you loveeee me, pony😍😍”

“nevermind.”

“WAIT NO I’M SORRY!”

Sodapop Curtis ;

you cannot keep living like this—seriously! how are you supposed to be walking around, pretending like you aren’t totally and utterly in love with your best friend!

he’s way cute, way understanding, way too funny, way too smart (even if he won’t admit it.), and did you mention way too cute?

you thought about just telling him upfront. ‘today’s gonna be the day!’ it never was though... you always chickened out or someone got in the way the second you opened your mouth to tell him the speech you rehearsed.

your eyes were locked on sodapop as he went under the hood of a random car. you couldn’t care less about what steve was complaining about—nor what vehicle this is.

“why’re you even ‘ere? you don’t even work today, y/n!😒”

“steve—she can come n’ go. don’t act like you don’t enjoy her visitin’.”

“what? jumpin’ in to save your girlfriend?”

soda paused before throwing a rusted screw at steve, hitting his bicep. you laughed quietly, watching the two bicker back and forth.

“ain’t you got a register to run?”

“….touché��…”

steve mumbled before whispering something to soda, covering one side of his mouth so you wouldn’t see. you rolled your eyes at his immature antics—not finding them amusing when it doesn’t involve you as much.

“what was that?”

“nothin’, y/n…”

he answered with a giggle as soda looked flustered and annoyed. steve practically skipped away, leaving the two of you alone.

even though you two knew each other since grade school, the air in the garage was awkward. like the two of you didn’t know how to start a conversation in your 16–almost 17–years of living.

“so..”

“so?”

with that you went on a rant about a rumour goin’ around. ‘it’s total bullshit!’ you’d shout with a huff. what was this rumour? you n’ soda are secretly dating.

“that’s insane.”

“i know! and it’s like—i do love you like that it’s jus-“

OH. OHHHHH. OHHHH MY GOD.

OF COURSE YOU HAD TO SCREW IT ALLL UP BY SAYING SOMETHIN’ STUPID! you’re soo cool for that, y/n. wow. good job.

soda paused, his body tensed before a sigh left his lips. he chuckled, standing up straight as he slammed the hood of the door closed, looking over to you with a smile.

“well—it ain’t really a rumour, is it?”

“…it isn’t?”

“not if you’re free at 8 tomorrow.”

maybe you’re both stupid, maybe you’re both young, or maybe it’s actually gonna work out this time. you smiled as you nodded, confirming you had no plans.

“oh my glory—finally.”

“FYM FINALLY, STEVE??”

“I MEAN, FINALLY. am i gonna be the best man, soda woda😍?”

“hell nah.”

“man, fuck you and your loving partner. happy ass couple, pissin’ me off in my own store.”

Darry Curtis ;

chocolate cake. who doesn’t love it? sure as hell not the boys that run in and out of the curtis’ house, stuffing their faces with this. they eat it like they’ve never eaten in their lives.

apparently it was up to you and darry to supply the next batch. darry (and the boys) announced it oddly ominously.

“we’re low on the supply.”

“….supply of what, darry? …what’re you’re jobs again?”

“cake.”

“OHHH. yeah okay—let’s go make some.”

and that’s how it started. you flicking flour at darry’s darkened hair, making jokes about him ‘finally looking his age,’ darry laughing as you stood there with pride before he grabbed you by the waist and picked you up, putting you on the opposite side of him.

‘he wants me sooo bad😭😭😂😂’ ‘they looks so pretty when they’re smiling.’

duality of man am i right

caught up in the moment, giggles filling the room, your mind empty, you began to mumble somethin’ stupid to yourself.

“jesus—i love you.”

“mh?”

darry hummed, wide eyed with brows raised as he turned his head to face you. you stared back—an awkward expression across your face.

“nothin’.”

all darry did, however, was lightly chuckle as he brushed back a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“you’re a real treat.”

he’d mumble before confessing somethin’ stupid just as you did.

“i love you too. always have, y’know.”

the cake was forgotten about for 10 minutes. within said time—you two were giggling about the times you tried to confess to one another

“AW, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“kissing? in front of my cake?”

“i knew it…”

“ight…are y’all done?”

“yesssir.🫡”

Steve Randle ;

steve got into another fight—real bloody and real ugly. and who’s job was it to patch him up—as always? you, of course! who else would it be other than his ‘bestest friend’?

“glory, steve! who were you fightin’? the hulk?”

“with the way i was fightin’—i might as well be the hulk. you shoulda seen me!”

he began to mimic the punches he threw earlier as he sat on your kitchen counter—mumbling small ‘bam!’s and ‘boom!’s. you chuckled quietly as you dampened several cotton balls with the alcohol.

“yeah, you wish.”

“you jus’ don’t see the vision.”

steve mumbled, rolling his eyes as you brought the cotton balls up to his open wound on his cheek. he hissed with pain at first, searching for your hand to squeeze.

you realized what he was doing—your ears beginning to burn up. you allowed him to grab your hand, letting him use this as a way to ease the pain.

“OWUH! CAN YOU DO THIS ANY HARDER?”

“i’m doin’ this to help you, steve!”

“OWWWWW”

“oh my god—shut up! i love you n’ all, but shut up!”

steve stopped his over exaggerated complaining to look at you with parted lips, his face getting red.

“like…love, love? or just ‘i love you, man’?”

he tried to get clarification so he doesn’t start geeking in front of you like a loser over something he could’ve gotten wrong.

‘LORD IF YOU CAN HEAR ME—LET IT BE WHAT I THINK IT IS🙏🙏!! I’LL START GOIN’ TO CHURCH EVERY SUNDAY, TRUST!!’

“like—i love, love you.”

you mumbled, putting down the cotton ball as you tried to regain your posture. ruining it all by saying somethin’ stupid was always somethin’ you thought you’d do—but never actually do.

steve slowly got a grin on his face—seemingly ecstatic at the news. he jumped off the counter before putting both hands on your shoulders.

“really?! ‘cuz i’ve always thought you’d never feel the same, and i’ve always been so scared about that! the gang’s not gon’ believe me!”

he rambled, smiling from ear to ear as he said he felt the same way as you. maybe being an idiot sometimes ain’t all that bad.

“‘m the gonna be the best boyfriend ever.”

“i know you will be.”

“….TEEHEE😍🥰🤭”

Two-Bit Mathews ;

drinking was you two’s favourite pass time. you always said he made the hangovers bearable—he always said you made drinking way more fun.

stumbling out of bucks bar, you grabbed onto two-bit’s arm to stabilize you. he chuckled before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close.

“didn’t know i was that irresistible.😍”

“SHUDDUP-“

you pushed away from him, laughing to yourself as two-bit took a step closer—obviously way more sober than you are.

walking down the sidewalk at night, talking about whatever topic came to mind. sure, most of your nights consist of doing this. and sure, your mind always wanders to how cute he looks under the streetlights.

but WHO CARES?! you need to know what happened in the newest episode of the mickey mouse club house!!😖😖

you looked over at two-bit who’s hands seemed to be flying everywhere as he complained about what goofy and donald had been doing.

“i love you.”

“AND THEN HE-what?😀”

he paused in the middle of his sentence, whipping his head around to look over at you. maybe it was the drunken haze that made you say somethin’ stupid—you didn’t really care.

“yeah. always have.”

two-bits silence scared you more than the confession—the anxiety causing you to sober up slightly. however, the wide grin he got and the small chuckles eased you back.

“cool! i-i mean—cool. i love ya too.”

two-bit said—his words coming out quickly and jumbled together. he cleared his throat with tightened lips before wrapping an arm around your shoulders once more—expect you don’t pull away.

he later continued his rant about goofy and donald—holding you close.

“so…what made you realize😍🥰?”

“i like loser men.”

“YOU WHAT?😰”

#2knightt #the outsiders #listen to somethin’ stupid by frank sinatra #or else #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader

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freshxsturniolo · 4 months ago

Text

4th July - Part 7 - chris sturniolo x femreader

pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5. pt6.

chris had rolled his eyes at your words, but had kissed you back passionately. when you pulled away he told you he promised he believed you both, and he respected your friendship with carrington. but you couldn’t get the niggling feeling there was something else. you remember his words. you remember him about to say something, or ask you something, when you were at top golf, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him again what it was.

all you held onto was the way you'd carried on making out, him leant against your kitchen table whilst you stood between his legs, his hands roaming your ass and your thighs as you only parted to look each other and let out a laugh.

"we should probably order an uber" you had said in between kisses, he had groaned in protest before giving the back after your thighs a squeeze and pushing himself off the table.

you had finished your drinks and continued chatting as you waited, laughing at everything and anything as you shown him around your house quickly. you saw the way his eyes darkened when you showed him your bedroom, your dark sheets contrast to the white walls and all the things that made it yours. your photos of your friends, the artwork on the walls, he had took it all in with a smile.

you pull up to the bar now however, a comfortable silence on the way there as you text tara and he had rang his brothers to tell them he’d be home late, and as you step out and both stand on the sidewalk before you go inside, he looks down at your hand briefly and you can tell he’s contemplating taking hold of it.

“is it gonna be weird?” he asks, and you frown. “i mean, holding hands? i’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you after a few drinks.”

you smile. “you’ve not been able to take your hands off me sober.”

“preciously" and he moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

you smile as you spin around in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "no, it wont be weird. im pretty everyone saw us at the party."

chris chuckles, but then his face alters a little. "i know, but this feels different now, don't you think?"

your hearts racing as the energy shifts. yes, this does feel different. before it had been harmless flirtatious fun, even the kiss at the party you could have likely passed off. but since you stepped foot in his house yesterday, it felt like so much more.

"yeah, it does."

he looks at you, his eyes darting around your entire face, before he takes a deep breath. you fury your brows, and he's about to open his mouth to say something but he stops, leans forward and drops you a small kiss. you go onto your tip toes, wrapping your arms around him further before pulling away.

"i could just go home, right now." you whisper, the moment of whatever he wanted to say gone. and he chuckles.

"lets go inside for a couple of drinks, and then i'll take you straight home."

you smile. "my place or yours?"

"my brothers aren't at yours."

"enough said." you smile, before spinning out of his embrace and taking his hand, smiling at a few people smoking cigarettes outside before you walk inside. the comforting smell of the small bar that you have grown to love, the chatter of people all around you.

"i feel nervous" chris whispers into your ear, and you let out a laugh.

"these are your friends too" you say.

"i know but -" and he pauses a second, causing you to look at him. and then he stops. the motion jerking you backwards as he pulls on your hand slightly. you're only a few steps into the bar, and you couldn't see your friends when your eyes first wander in here, but you give him a concerned look.

"is everything okay? are you having second thoughts?" you say, your heart in your chest slightly. was this it? was this what he was trying to say earlier, that niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"no." he shakes his head. then laughs. "god, no. not at all."

your heart alters a little. "so what, chris?"

he smiles, pulling you closer to him. "i really really like you, pretty girl." he whispers. your hearts in your throat again. "like, really like you."

"chris-"

he smiles. "you don't have to say it back, its fine. i just ... want you to know."

now you're laughing, and you place your free hand on the side of his neck. "i really fucking like you too, dumbass."

he doesn't say a word, but he kisses your lips with such force you have to grip his neck to stay upright. when he lets go, he's looking at you with an expression on his face you can't read. but it's too late to ask if theres something else on his mind, because the voice of one person in particular lets you know your friends have spotted you.

"HERE THEY ARE!" the voice booms, followed by a cheer from your friends. you know all eyes are on you, its a small bar usually full of local people, yourselves included, and you blush suddenly at the thought of all the eyes on you.

"is he always like this?" chris says, diverting his eyes to the person in question.

"oh," you chuckle. "this is just the start for carrington."

and then you turn around, dragging chris with you as your eyes find the noise. you were right, heads from other tables have turned but everyone is laughing, and you let out a joking wave as you jokingly strut across to your friends, chris' chuckle loud enough for you to hear behind you.

when you reach the table, taras hands are the first to find yours as you pull away from chris, her eyes wide.

"holy fucking shit, i just watched that WHOLE thing by the door." she says, a smile on her face.

"oh, fuck. did you hear us?" you suddenly feel shy, realising you'd completely lost yourself in him.

she shakes her head. "no, but the look on your face. what did he say?"

you turn around to look at him, his arms currently wrapped around jake in a hug, before a beer is slung into his hand by carrington, who he daps up immediately.

"he really fucking likes me, apparently." you can't help the giggle that escapes you. a fucking giggle. you feel 16 again.

"oh my god" tara squeals, and then she reaches across the table and grabs you your favourite cocktail, already ready and waiting for you. you thank her with a smile and take a sip, before warm hands wrap around your waist. turning your head, you instantly roll your eyes with a laugh.

"sorry, my love. did you expect it to be lover boy?" carrington beams down at you.

"he's not my lover boy, carrington" you say, leaning forward and putting the drink down on the table again, before you spin around in carringtons embrace and properly hug him. he chuckles as he lifts you up off the floor, a squeal escaping your lips as you flick your feet up slightly.

"yeah yeah, whatever." he laughs into your ear before placing you down. "he good to you, yeah?"

"carrington" you say, smacking his arm. "we've been on two dates. calm down."

carrington rolls his eyes before he gives your waist a quick squeeze, and then he's off in the other direction. you laugh and shake your head as you turn to tara.

"how much as he had to drink?" you say, reaching forward and grabbing your own drink again.

"oh god, him and johnnie started hours ago." she rolls her eyes, but theres a smirk on her face too as she takes a sip of her drink. "anyway," she says. "back to mr sturniolo." she says with a giggle, grabbing your hand and dragging you to sit a table away from others ears.

but what you don't see is the prying eyes of chris, staring at you with a mix of what could probably look like sadness, but deep down for some reason he knows its jealousy. he takes a sip from his beer as he watches you engage with carrington, his heart jumping slightly when you spin around and embrace him in a hug, so similar to the way you just did outside with him, and he tries to wash down the feeling with a huge gulp. he feels ridiculous, because he knows you and carrington are friends. at the party, he asked you to be sure, because he'd only met carrington once before and knew how close you had become with him in just a short few months. and at your house earlier on, he was caught off guard more than anything. because fuck, chris wanted you. he wanted you so bad he would call it pathetic, actually. he had never in his life felt this way for anyone, and to see another mans hands on you made him feel queasy.

he notices you sit down with tara at a table not too far away, and he can see as you're both leant in together, laughing and giggling as the two of you talk. he hope its about him, the way even from his position he can see you're blushing slightly, but that niggling feeling in the back of his head tells him maybe it isn't.

but of course it is. the margarita tara threw in your hand is already almost gone and you know its because you're feeling giddy. tara listens as you tell her about top golf, as you tell her about the way you know damn well if carrington hadn't have called, you wouldn't be here right now and you'd have probably had sex in every corner of your house, and you admit how badly you want him, in every way possible.

when you finally walk back up to him just a few minutes later, his eyes bore yours the entire way across the small bar until you reach his side, and when you do, his arm wraps around your back and pulls you into him immediately.

"am i going to have to get used to you and tara running off together?" he says, as you replicate his arm and wrap yours arm around his front.

"im afraid, yes" you giggle, the margarita already flushing through your body. he laughs as he bends down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

"what where you yapping about?" he asks. he knows he has no right to know, and he knows it was risky invading your privacy with such a question, but his heart rate slows down a little once you laugh and lean yourself into his side a little more.

"thats for us to know, and you to find out." you say, before pulling yourself away from him and embracing in a hug with jake and johnnie. chris gulps down the rest of his beer in one, that surge of jealousy running through his body again at the concept of you blushing over another man, and he can't help his actions for the rest of the night.

you know chris had said he wouldn't be able to take his hands off you, but you hadn't realised just how comfortable he would feel in front of all your friends. if you weren't by his side you could see him looking at you every minute or so. if you were by his side, his hand was somewhere on your body, and if you had a quiet moment alone, his lips where always on yours.

"you weren't joking about not being able to keep your hands to yourself" you whisper into his ear as you both stand at the bar now, and his head whips down to look at you immediately, a drunken haze covering his eyes, but just as he's about to say something his eyes look over your shoulder and you instantly turn around, a smile escaping you as carrington comes up close beside you.

what you hadn't caught onto, was that every time chris was staring at you, or every time he had his hands on you, was usually because carrington had had his hands on you not too long before. not that chris doesn't want to touch you anyway, cause god he really does, but he knows he'd likely be less obvious about it if carrington wasn't here too. and he doesn't know why, and he cannot control the way he feels, but maybe its because as much as he wants you, you technically aren't actually his, and you were free to do what you wanted, and those irrational thoughts in his head told him that carrington could likely have you in one swift motion.

"what can i get my girl to drink?" carrington asks, nudging your shoulder. he's far beyond drunk at this point but you do admire the way he can handle himself. you ignore the pet name, at this point this just feels normal for the two of you, but you don't ignore the way chris' fingers start to trace lines against your arm. carrington looks to the side of you and see's chris, and then leans into your ear. "and whats lover boy drinking?"

"carrington" you say, giving his arm a nudge which only erupts him into laughter, which you can't help but follow suit.

chris hand now lands against your elbow, and you feel as he shifts his position slightly so he's standing a little behind you, the corner of his hip pressing into the small of your back.

carrington laughs at you, nudging you back before looking back towards the bar. the barmaid looks at him and is walking over within seconds, and you roll your eyes.

"you dont even need to say anything, that charm of yours is insane" you say, you and chris had been stood here for maybe only two minutes prior, but there was no denying carringtons overall aura always got peoples attention quicker.

"what can i say, baby?" he mocks, giving you a wink.

in the same breath, chris' hip is no longer connected with the small of your back, but instead both his hands are pulling you backwards, slamming you into his chest tightly, before his hands snake around and lift up your t-shirt, a little, letting his thumbs rest just above your waistband.

you're about to turn to look at him, his touch sending goosebumps all around your body, when you feel his mouth close to your ear.

"tell him we're going home" he whisper, and you spin your head around to look at him, his eyes boring into carrington at just the time you hear him speak.

"what you both having?" you hear carrington say, and then it hits you. the touching. the almost clingy behaviour, is because of carrington. a small smirk plays on your lips, before you turn around to meet carringtons eyes.

"i think we're going to head off, actually" you say, and chris dips his finger into the waistband of your jeans after your words. carrington looks you over, before he shrugs and turns back around, paying for the drink he just ordered for himself.

you twist your position ever so slightly to look at chris, and he gives you a smile as he finally removes his hands from your body, a satisfied look across his face.

and its so obvious. he's jealous. he's been jealous all night.

you hadn't paid much attention, but it makes sense. you can't deny that you and carrington are touchy with each other. carringtons love language is most defiantly touch and sometimes you can't help yourself but touch him back. the soft brushes of your hand on his, the random hugs, the shoulder nudges, the close proximity and hand on shoulder as you spoke into each others ear. to you both, and to your friends, its completely platonic, but the reality kicks that regardless of what you say to chris, he still doesn't fully believe you. or maybe he does, and he's trying to prove a point.

when carrington finally turns back around, a drink in hand. you test the waters. you smile, stepping forward away from chris' body, and immediately wrap your arms around carringtons neck. he's drunk and he's simply just carrington, so he throws his arm around your waist. but you cling a little longer than you usually would, before you pull away, dragging your hands down his arms slowly as you do so. a smirk erupts over carringtons face as he holds onto your waist.

"thank you for a great evening" you say, before flicking your hair across your shoulder.

chris laughs behind you.

"you know you're my favourite lady" carrington says, giving your waist a small squeeze. you shrug, acting like its not big deal, and then you finally pull away, turning yourself around to face chris. he's looking at you with such an intense look you can only smirk. his gaze is cut off by carrington, who's holding out his hand to chris to shake it, and you lean back against the bar, arching your back a little so your t-shirt pulls up slightly, and you dim your eyes to look at them both.

"nice to see you man," carrington say, and chris smiles.

"you too"

and then carringtons walking back off over to your group, and chris watches him before he finally divert his eyes to you. you push yourself off the bar, a smirk on your face as you met him in the middle, but you don't touch him.

"you are unbelievable when you are jealous" you say. he smirks.

"and you are unbelievable when you are trying to get a reaction out of me."

you shrug. "i've not idea what you're talking about."

he grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him as he fingers come up to your chin as he nudges you so you're forced to look up at him. your hearts in your mouth as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip.

"remember what i said to you, before i fucked you. in my bed, let me remind you." he eventuates the my and it triggers your memory. but you keep your face neutral, and you look out a shrug. he smirks.

"i said, and quote, oh youre so mine after this"

of course you remembered. how could you forget? that particular sentenced had replayed in your head a 100 times since it happened just yesterday. you smile.

"ah, yes. you never followed up though, did you? it was just words."

he scoffs. "just words?" his grip on your jaw get tighter and you're melting. you're going to literally die under his touch if this teasing and this flirting doesn't end and his lips don't touch yours within the next 20 seconds. but you can't stop yourself.

"i don't recall a moment of you officially making me yours. so from my eyes, im a free woman." but you're looking at him so intensely, that its impossible to miss the way his face switches slightly, and suddenly you're no longer wanting to flirt and you're scared that actually, you've taken it too far. maybe it was too much. you wanted him so bad it was killing you, actually, and you were most defiantly not a free woman. but then he laughs, and he presses his forehead to yours as he drops his hand from your jaw, grabbing hold of your free hand so now both your hands are clasped together.

"i did not want to do this drunk" he starts, and you fear he can hear your heartbeat from here. "i tried to do it earlier, at top golf, but we got interrupted and i felt stupid"

"what, chris?" you say, and you hope he doesn't hear the little shake in your voice. he smiles, pulling his head away from yours and twisting your hands around so he's not just holding them, but he's interlocked each finger with his own.

"i tried to do it earlier, too. but carrington interrupted us and i thought no, maybe this isn't the right time."

"what, chris?" you say again. and he laughs, throwing his head back a little before looking back at you.

"will you actually, genuinely, be mine? i know its quick, but i'm so certain about you. like actually so certain. the way i've felt today watching you, its not normal. so please, will you by my girl?"

you're going to combust, there and then. you don't have words as you crash your lips to his. he's taken by surprise, at first, but then his hands unlock from yours and they're straight to your hair, and your hands are on his waist as you try and reach on your tip toes to kiss him deeper. but its impossible, so you pull away, both breathless slightly, and theres a sweet crimson twinge to his cheeks.

"is that a yes?" he says, and you laugh. you laugh so hard as you throw your arms around his neck.

"of course its a yes, dumbass."

he chuckles as he throws his arms around your back, his thumbs rubbing against you as you linger in his touch for a second, and suddenly being at the bar is the last place you want to be. your mind going to just a few moments before, when he told you to tell carrington you were going home, and you're giddy on top of the already giddy feeling.

"come back to mine, right now" you say, and suddenly his gaze turns different.

"im right behind you" he whispers, before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

and you turn around, oblivious to your friends and not even thinking about saying goodbye, as you drag chris by the hand and outside into the fresh air.

TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog @nervoussagittarius @chrissypook @sarosfilms @somegirlfromasgard @carringtonsgirlfriend @h3arts4harry @cherib3lla @rebelliousmuse @freshlovah0e @mattslovverr @melaniesturn

#chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #tara yummy #carrington usa #nathan doe #carrington x reader #Jake webber

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