#i wrote a million words and said NOTHING
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KnB 30-Days Challenge
Day 5 : Your OTP
đ Miyaji Ă Hayama âĄď¸
Many consider this a crack ship. It is mostly because the characters have less than 5 minutes worth of interactions and those interactions aren't really special or cheesy in any way. So, where exactly does this ship come from? What exactly gave us the shippy feels? Personally... I don't know. I was thinking about it a lot, but I seriously have no idea. One day I just woke up and I shipped them. And I still do. It has been around 7 years since this is one of my favorite ships, and I have no clue how it all even started.
Still, I would love to share my views on this very unlikely couple. More precisely, I would like to explain how I think their relationship started, what their relationship looks like, how long their relationship lasts...
After the ShĹŤtoku-Rakuzan match in the WinterCup, Kiyoshi just couldn't stop thinking about his opponent for the game. KotarĹ was just incredible and talented, and Kiyoshi hated how useless he was against him. He loved basketball, and that defeat hurt him deeply. Instead of sitting in his room and crying about it, he decided to practice more, become better and face KotarĹ again. This time, he would do better, not necessarily beat him, just not feel as useless. He promised that to himself!
He was a graduate student at that time and when college preparations, graduation and all the formalities hit him, he had no choice but to forget about facing KotarĹ for a while.
When college started, everything went quite well for him and he continued playing basketball. Practicing harder than ever, one day, he felt ready, and all he had to do was meet up with KotarĹ. It was easy! KotarĹ was pretty pleasantly surprised when Kiyoshi sent him a message, and he quickly accepted to meet up with him in Tokyo. After all, KotarĹ is a pretty social and friendly person and making another friend is something he always looks forwards to! He was also summoned for a rematch in basketball, and that sounded pretty fun!
They met up that weekend and played some one-on-one. In the end, the result was similar to the one from almost a year ago. KotarĹ easily won, except that this time Kiyoshi felt better about himself and did a better job. Of course, KotarĹ noticed that, so he complimented him and expressed that he would love to play more with Kiyoshi. At that moment, Kiyoshi felt pretty proud of himself, and of course, he agreed to have more matches with KotarĹ!
They would meet up on weekends, when both found time to see each other and travel to each other's cities. They had so much fun with each other playing basketbal that they started seeing each other more often. After some time, they started doing other things, like going out to cafĂŠs, going sightseeing in the area, going on walks... Being in KotarĹ's presence was like a drug to Kiyoshi. He was such a positive guy, always smiling, always searching for ways to have fun, he was so funny and adventurous and hanging out with him after an exhausting week was so refreshing... Seeing KotarĹ became something that he was looking forward to every day and his go-to plan for every weekend.
Though, KotarĹ was a graduate student this year, and he and Kiyoshi started hanging out less and less since he couldn't find enough time with all the college preparations. They were both pretty sad about it, but there was nothing they could do other than accept it. Kiyoshi realised that his life was rather boring and dull without KotarĹ, and he took some time to reflect on how he really felt when he was around him. He was always pretty happy, but also a little nervous, he wanted to be around him a lot, he really cared about his opinions, he wanted to see him smile, impress him by making a good joke, looking good or playing well, he talked about him a lot and now he was thinking about him so much... After Googling his symptoms the almighty Internet diagnosed him with having a crush. Well. That explained everything.
Every time he got a message from KotarĹ informing him he has time to meet up over the weekend, his heart would skip a beat. Ever since the day he realised he might have a crush, every time they saw each other it was just becoming more obvious to him. He was really crushing hard. He didn't really want to make it that obvious though, so he started acting a little... Tsundere. He really thought it was a good mask.
At last, when the college stuff was over for KotarĹ, they could finally see each other all the time again, and they were both so excited for that! The greatest news ever struck Kiyoshi when he saw KotarĹ right after his finals. He wrote in a college in Tokyo! Now, that meant that in a couple of months they would live in the same city and could hang whenever they felt like it.
That time came by soon, and ever since the first day KotarĹ moved in, they started hanging out almost every day. But what was Kiyoshi supposed to do now? The more time they spent together, the more he was falling in love and the harder it was for him to wear the fake mask. He would make the first move now, but he was not sure how KotarĹ felt about them.
KotarĹ knew Kiyoshi liked him, it was painfully obvious. Though, at first, he only loved the attention Kiyoshi was giving him, how Kiyoshi was always so excited to see him and how he looked at him with some strange eyes. After some time, he started finding it cute, and he loved seeing Kiyoshi like that, so silly because he had a crush oh him. It was a little funny how he was trying to hide it and failing miserably, but it was still so sweet! He grew to really love being around Kiyoshi, he loved feeling important to someone and he always felt so appreciated and loved, he also thought Kiyoshi was smart and cool and pretty... He soon figured out that he probably had a litttle crush as well!
Great! Well, KotarĹ knew that they both liked each other, and Kiyoshi seemed too unsure about making the first step, so KotarĹ decided that he was going to do it. It wasn't that hard for an easy-going person like him.
'Hey, I know you like me, you can stop pretending you don't. You know, I really like you, too... Wanna be boyfriends, maybe?'
KotarĹ said that on a completely random day, in the most random moment ever. Of course, after hearing that Kiyoshi was rather confused. KotarĹ has known all along? He liked him, too? He thought he was dreaming. Before he collected himself and opened his mouth to say something, he felt a hand placed on top of his.
'Sooo, what do you say?'
KotarĹ was looking up at him expectantly with his eyes shinning. Kiyoshi's words failed him and all he could do was just kiss his cute face. And just like that, they became boyfriends!
Just like every relationship, the first few months were just incredible. Magical. They were so in love, they were getting along really well and didn't argue much, just bicker from time to time, they had a lot of fun, went on cute dates, bought each other gifts, went places together, they had told their friends and everybody was supportive of them! It was just like a dream! They really, truly enjoyed being with each other... Until life hit.
Ever since the moment Kiyoshi knew KotarĹ was his boyfriend, the silliness of having a crush was slowly, but surely, starting to wash away and now that it was secured that KotarĹ loved him, he felt comfortable with being himself. His irritable side, that he didn't really show that much before, was starting to become more and more prominent. A Kiyoshi in a bad mood was not something impossible that KotarĹ couldn't stand or deal with. He knew his ways to cheer his sad partner up, or calm him down when he was angry. KotarĹ was pretty tolerant and really tried his best to be a good boyfriend to Kiyoshi in those moods. After all, they were a couple and they promised that they will always be together, in happiness and in sadness, understand each other and love each other. He had a lot of patience and loved the relationship.
Though, Kiyoshi's moods kept getting worse and worse, mostly because of college and stress, and KotarĹ, who was also in a similar situation with academic pressure sitting right on his lungs, who was in his first year of college and had a hard time adapting to the new pace of life, started slowly losing the patience. They started fighting more and more and bickering over little things all the time. Since they are both rather short-tempered, in the heat of an arguement they would sometimes say things they didn't really mean, especially Kiyoshi with his foul language, and hurt each other. KotarĹ was not exactly honey, especially when he felt attacked, so whenever Kiyoshi would hurt his feelings and attack him, his vengeful side would wake up. It wasn't anything special, because KotarĹ didn't really want to hurt the person he loved badly. It was some small things, but it was still unpleasant.
They knew things were done when they stopped apologising to each other and created a lot of negative energy. Still, they decided to talk. They really wanted to do something about the current situation, save their relationship somehow. In the end, they agreed that they loved each other and cared for each other deeply, that they had a great time and enjoyed the relationship, but that it was probably just the wrong time. They agreed to part ways for a while, maybe it would turn out to be forever, but they couldn't know that.
Congratulations if you are reading this now and thank you for your patience. This is the shortened version but still it is too long, I promise I won't write a post this long again!
Anyways, this is how it goes in my head. I really tried to explain a lot of things here because I found that my view of this ship is quite different from the common dynamic. I enjoy this ship like this. I quite love the idea of them just being young adults and having fun, forgetting about their not so good past where Kiyoshi had one sided beef with KotarĹ, but also finding each other because of it. I also live for the idea of Kiyoshi having a soft spot for someone and becoming this silly confused dork, something very unexpected and unusual for him. The most obvious person that anyone would have a soft spot for is a person like KotarĹ. He is just like a puppy, or a kitten.
Still, I can't see them last long, no matter how much I love them. After the 'everything is perfect I am so in love phase' they just learn they don't naturally get along. They are too similar in that one way: short-temper combined with pride. When their arguements break out and they hurt each other with their words, sometimes they feel too much pride and just skip the applogy part. Even if they feel really bad about what they said... Also, college is tough, especially in first year when one is supposed to adapt to this whole new schooling style and, in KotarĹ's case, whole new city. Naturally, he went a little crazy. Kiyoshi is always a little crazy so that is why their arguements start getting bad.
Maybe it is good for them to just have fun for a while and then ditch the relationship idea. They could just be friends. Though, who knows, maybe later in life, when they are not so crazy and are more stable and more mature, they could meet up again and fall in love... Still, this is good for me, I like it like this.
Note: The characters are a little OOC and I am very well aware of that. I have been putting sprikles of my personal love experiences and struggles into this couple over the years, because it is my comfort ship. â¨ď¸
#knb#hayama kotarou#hayama kotaro#miyaji kiyoshi#knb 30-days challenge#miyahaya#hayamiya#hamiya#what even is the name of this ship???#i usually go with miyahaya/hayamiya#i wrote a million words and said NOTHING#so sorry for thay ahhhh#well i tried#sometimes it's just the effort that counts#this ship used to be soooo popular a while ago#if some of the old hayamiya shippers who were religious stans of the toxic common dynamic saw this#i would see people in front of my house tomorrow waiting for me to beat me up or some shit#throback when shipping wars were such a big thing and people would get death threats for having different opinions#the characters aren't even together in canon LMAO#like why was it so hard to let people be delusional and develop their own headcanons and stories??#i am so glad that shitty time is over ahhh#anyways i have a really long post in my drafts about the common hayamiya dynamic and why i hate it#i will maybe post it after i finish day 6#i lied when i said no more long posts muahahah
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Re:Kinder Fun Facts of the dayâşď¸!!! Have you ever wondered who talks the most from the main cast in Re:Kinder?? Well, I didđ. Today I'll be answering this question with some graphs and as a bonus telling you what words each character uses the most! I will warn you, this will be a bit long and I don't know how to be less verbose so, yeah!!!
First, I've made some basic rules as to what I counted regarding how much the characters speak. Not all lines really count as speaking, after all.
Any of the incoherent screaming lines don't count. There's a lot of screaming since the characters die a lot (as expected for a horror RPG game), but I don't really count that as speaking unless they're saying proper words. In that same vein, I didn't really count any of the panting or sniffing and such that are conveyed through words. Again, I don't really see that as a character actively speaking their thoughts!
If I cannot tell who a line belongs to, I will not give it to anyone. This happens for certain lines, so I felt this rule was important.
I won't be counting repetitions of the same line if it's on a variation of the same scene. This may sound a bit strange, but when a character dies, the game goes on to the same next scene it would regardless (unless the scene that follows it is an ending), with variations and new lines here and there to account for the dead character, but a lot will be reused and placed in the exact same beats it normally would have been in originally. So, this rule is here for that. Oh, and also the scenes with bits of Yuuichi's backstory that appear in Shunsuke's head won't be counted twice, because some appear twice line by line.
Of course, the "..." lines won't count. I am so sorry Aya!!!!đ
Now that the ground rules have been set, there's just one thing I want to mention. Though I will count all the total lines for Takumi and Yuuichi like any other character, I just want to mention that first I will have two separate counts for them! Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart respectively.
Takumiel is separate because I was curious about how much Takumi spoke as an archangel compared to when he was alive. Yuuichi's Heart is because he speaks so much he feels notable enough to be given his own division, even if he and Yuuichi at the end of the day are one person
(I count the silly mind telepathy where Shunsuke is being directly spoken to [and being told things normal Yuu would avoid saying at that point] and the comical theater as Yuuichi's Heart. I clarify in case one assumes he only starts being counted the moment he's directly labelled as Yuuichi's Heart. Any line that can't be distinguished between Yuuichi's Heart and Yuuichi will be given to Yuuichi by default.)
With nothing else to be clarified let's get to the numbers!!!đđ
First, the line counts with Takumiel and Yuuichi's Heart counted individually!! Here are the rankings:
Shunsuke (With a lead of 535 lines over second place!!)
Yuuichi
Rei
Yuuichi's Heart
Hiroto
Ryou
Sayaka
Aya
Takumi
Takumiel
You may be thinkingâ woah, does Shunsuke really speak that much?! You could say that, for a good chunk of those lines are from how he describes interactable points around the map and his inner thoughts, so they aren't all exactly said out loud. The benefit of being the protagonist, I suppose ww
Funny enough, Yuuichi's Heart has almost as many lines as Yuuichi does for not having that much time in the game, being on the higher end between the characters that don't get the benefit of being a protagonist (lol)!
Admittedly I had expected for Rei and Hiroto to have a more similar amount of lines given their nearly equal amount of presence, but for what it is Rei surpassed Hiroto by 51 lines! I also had expected for Takumiel to speak a little bit more than Takumi but turns out the opposite is true.
While the lack of lines of Takumi and Takumiel are to be expected due to their short time on the game, what stands out is Aya not even reaching triple digits between her other peers who are in there for most of the game. This is because a good chunk of Aya's lines in game are silence!^^" And thus weren't counted. If ellipses were a word, she surely would have reached triple digits, but unfortunately they're not.
Now the line count with combined sums of Takumi | Takumiel and Yuuichi | Yuuichi's Heart!!!
In here, the ranking isn't affected, with Yuuichi remaining second place and Takumi being last place. But the disparity of everyone's numbers compared to Takumi's feels a bit more clear to see when Takumiel isn't individually counted.
With Yuuichi's line counts combined, Shunsuke remains 318 lines ahead of him, but it also means Yuuichi has a 59% the amount of Shunsuke's lines; and impressive feat for someone who doesn't get the benefit of being the point of view for everything you press... Although he does also have an upper hand over everyone by essentially being the plot of this game ww
But maybe line counts do not suffice to tell how much a character speaks. Yes, Shunsuke has a bunch of lines from everything he interacts with, but is it really reliable to say he speaks all that much in all those lines? A good chunk of those could easily have 3 words each! So with this in mind, let's do a word count.
Even in a word count, Shunsuke has the lead, having a lead of 2,247 words over second place. But we'll see about that when we combine Yuuichi's numbers. Anyway, here's the ranking!
Shunsuke
Yuuichi's Heart
Yuuichi
Rei
Hiroto
Ryou
Sayaka
Aya
Takumi
Takumiel
This time, Yuuichi's Heart is the one at second place!!! It's pretty funny that he speaks more than his physical counterpart ww. I genuinely didnt think he'd out yap himself that way when I chose to count for him individually đ!!! He has a lead of 63 words over himself, but a lead nonetheless.
In here, Rei and Hiroto are more even than in the line counts, with the difference seeming more minimal when put into words. But it also showcases that despite Rei having more lines than Yuuichi's Heart in the line count, those only get to have a bit over half of the amount of words he talks (To be fair he does get to infodump a lot in his section of the game).
And here's the combined word count!!! Suddenly Shunsuke's lead is only by a mere 55 words! So Yuuichi speaks about as much as he does with 318 less lines.
I must admit that I genuinely did not expect it to be that close. When I chose to count the lines for when you interact with things for Shunsuke, I thought he was granted to speak an absurd amount more than anyone else. But turns out that Yuuichi speaks about the same amount out loud when most of Shunsuke's are his own thoughts ww. But it does make sense! He is still the plot of this game.
So, after all those charts, here's the average/middle point of lines and words for characters to have, because why not, it's fun.
Average Line Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 197 lines
Average Line Count (When combined): 247 lines
Average Word Count (YH and Takumiel counted individually): 1,333 words
Average Word Count (When combined): 1,666 words
So there it is. That's how much the characters in Re:Kinder speak!
But wait!!! I am not done. I will share with you an additional fun fact... Did you ever want to know what word each of these characters said the most?! This one will be quicker, I do promise.
When it came to counting these words I did not count stop words, that being common words that are used all the time by everyone in English. "I, you, me, the, to, a, my, your, yes, no"... Words like that! Otherwise everyone would have one of those as their most said word and it'd be rather boring to look at. With that said, here are the words these characters say the most!
Shunsuke: Yuuichi - said 40 times! (this genuinely confused me so much im sorry he uses interjections so much I had expected it to be something like "huh" or "um" but no i dont know how this passed by me as i was rounding up all the lines he says or proofreading or writing all of those lines WHAT?!?! its been two days and it still takes me out)
Ryou: Shunsuke - Said 14 times
Sayaka: Murderer - Said 7 times (All in one sentence!)
Takumi | Takumiel (counted in one for how little he speaks.): Takumiel - Said 3 times (That name is so important, he said it thrice.)
Aya: Sorry - Said 5 times
Rei: Hell, gonna, look, Yuuchi - said 8 times (Most of the repeated words she says are stop words for she doesn't tend to speak about the same things repeatedly.)
Hiroto: Shunsuke - Said 17 times
Yuuichi (separate from YH): Problem - Said 17 times
Yuuichi's Heart: Mama - Said 24 times
Yuuichi (Overall): Mama - Said 31 times
So that is finally it. That is the fun fact of today.đđ Use this to woe your friends at parties!!!
I am aware Mami speaks about enough to be counted in, but this is pretty time consuming to do and I'm not sure anyone is invested on her enough to count her in. But if there's enough curiosity regarding that, I'll try counting her in. But for now this suffices.âşď¸ Thanks for reading!
#re:kinder#rekinder#not art#fun fact!!!#i talk!!!#ive been at this for... two days how yall doingđ#ive thought of doing this since when i started by transcript of rekinder but i wasnt ready to do that after finishing that beast of a scrip#so here it is later than i anticipated! it is more time-consuming than i thought considering i have the benefit of the transcript#so when i was getting to doing mami i was already tired ww đ love her but this is just a silly bonus thing i throw out#so im not as ready to spend more than the several hours i already spent than with other funny silly proyects#i have more things i want to work on moređ!!! and also the semester is ending soon ww#ANYWAYYY#THIS WAS FUN THOUGH!!!#originally i wasnt going to count the things you can interact with for shunsuke but they are so obviously said by him i just had to#I WAS GOING TO IGNORE IT BUT THEN MY CONSCIOUSNESS TOLD ME... NO.... YOURE ROBBING HIM OF PERFECTLY FINE LINES!!!! đđ#so now his numbers are absurdly high#i still cant believe he said yuuichi more than huh i cannot believe that . like. he says huh 5 times less BUT STILL#i really wrote a whole transcript proofread it for 30+ hours then went back to do a line count for several more hours#and didnt notice the protagonist of this game said the name of my favorite character a million times#I NOTICED A âHUHâ MORE THAN A NAME COME ONBRUEJWJFNNW#i dont really make any comments regarding ryou or sayaka in here as much because their numbers are exactly as i had expected#about the same amount not too much... its nothing groundbreaking to make a comment out just saying#if anyone is curious yuu says vamos cantar only 6 times#no one's most said word is particularly surprising to me after shunsuke but i did have a stroke seeing problem pop up for yuu#the document i was writing all of this info in before doing this post was very tidy and organized very well articulated until thay happened#i was perfectly expecting him to mention one of his parents the most overall but when separated from Yuuichiâs heart i did not knwo what#so when problem popped up my gut reaction was thinking that i wasnt making it to the end of the document no one speak to me i felt#IT . IT MAKES SENSE but it isnt funđ#i wasnt even going to count yuuichis heart most said word until he out yapped himself admittedly#I SEPARATED HIM FROM USUAL YUU FOR THE LOLS I DIDNT THINK HE'D SPEAK THAT MUCH
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I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.
You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?
Click on their name. And look at their profile.
I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.
"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.
"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.
Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.
Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.
Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.
I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.
Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.
#lincoln rants#I'm sorry but I'm at the end of my rope#I got a LOT of these comments on my Buddie Platonic Sugar Baby AU#acting like I was some new writer to the fandom#babes I've been here since the dawn of 2020 where the fuck have YOU been?#I am happy to answer questions! I love responding to reader comments!#but it is beyond frustrating to answer a question that if they'd literally just clicked on my author name#they would have gotten the answer to themselves#yes I have written more yes I am still writing yes I've been here longer than you have#and I don't mean that in a pulling rank/seniority way I just mean that in a could you please just CLICK ON MY NAME???#INSTEAD OF MAKING ASSUMPTIONS??? way#I'VE DONE MY TIME! FOUR AND A HALF YEARS! IN THE CIRCUS!#I'm sorry but sometimes I have to yell publicly a little#and I really do suspect this is people who are not on tumblr#so I am genuinely begging you#if you are on other social media platforms#PLEASE feel free to repeat what I have said#PLEASE I AM SO TIRED!!!
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what friends do
pairing: felix x gn!reader w. 2.1k genre: fluff, a bit of angst and suggestive content summary: at some point a few months ago, felix kissed you for the first time. you didn't mean to catch feelings, but the lazy make-out sessions on his couch were melting your heart. warnings: swearing a/n: this is a fic i wrote on ao3 almost a year ago for @ppiri-bahng! i just wanted to post it on here. unlikely for a part 2 but enjoy :)
At some point a few months ago, Felix kissed you for the first time.
You'd been friends for years up to this point. You met him not long before his debut, so you're his day one. There was always something about the way you interacted with each other that felt so right, and it's why you became such close friends so fast. You spent all the time in the world together, and you'd spend every moment of every day with him, if you could. Felix had agreed with you once that you were soulmates. He was the best friend you'd ever had.
There was nearly nothing you didn't tell or do with Felix. He knew all of your secrets, little facts about you, every person in your life that was significant to you, and it was reciprocated on your end. You two knew each other like the back of your hand, and it felt as if nothing could ever separate you. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Felix, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you.
So, when he asked if he could kiss you, you said yes.
"Hey."
Your eyes opened, previously closed as your head was slumped onto Felix's shoulder. The television in front of you had some romantic comedy movie on, but you weren't nearly awake enough to know what it was about. You moved your head off of the boy next to you and looked over at him, his chocolate eyes returning your gaze. "Yeah?"
"Would you kiss me?" Felix let his words out nonchalantly, which you struggled to tell if it was the byproduct of his exhaustion or if it was his attitude towards the question in general. His eyes never left yours, so you assumed there was some care behind it.
You shrugged. "Uhh, I don't see why not. Why, do you wanna kiss me or something?" The thought of kissing Felix hadn't really crossed your mind, aside from the few times you stared at his lips a little too long and wondered how soft they were. But really, you'd never thought that way of him.
"I might." Felix pursed his lips and stared at you, which you almost immediately picked up on what he was doing. The look in his eyes and his expression was one you'd seen a million times before, it what was Felix did when he wanted something. You'd usually see it in the context of him wanting some food or to go out, but the look never changed.
Your eyebrows furrowed a little bit, wondering his intentions. Felix never liked you in that way, at least that's what he claimed. "Is this just a totally platonic thing between friends? Why do you want me to kiss you?"
"I just.." Felix trailed off for a moment, tapping his finger on his leg, "I want to kiss you because I miss kissing. The few times I've done it, it was always so nice and fun.. and I thought you'd be chill with it. It's not a romantic thing for me. It's just something I've wanted to do for a while, but I get it if you don't want to."
"No, no.. I get it. If it's not changing anything between us, I don't really see why not. Kissing is fun."
Felix smiled and nodded softly. He let out a sigh of relief and put his arm around your shoulder. "Can I kiss you now?"
"Yeah."
That's where it started. The first time you put your hand on his chest and your lips collided, his hands finding their way to cupping your cheek and the back of your neck, pulling you in close. When you first found out that you were right, his lips were as soft as they seemed. An assortment of little pecks turns slower and into deeper, longer kisses that are more drawn out and intimate. You didn't expect him to kiss you for that long, but you didn't mind. He was a good kisser, which he occupied you with for three minutes the first time around.
Every time the two of you broke apart for little gasps of air, he'd give you these smiles that would break you. Something made kissing him so fun and easy, so addicting and great. The way your hand rose and fell as it stayed planted on his chest made your heart flutter a little. Fuck, wait. No, that's a little too much. A little weird.
Then, it kept happening.
You'd be sitting around in the dorm kitchen, cooking up a meal, and a pair of arms would surround your waist. You'd look down, seeing skinny arms covered in freckles, and smile. Felix needed kisses. You'd tell him to leave you be, that you had to pay attention to your food, but his little pecks on your neck and cheek got you hooked. You'd end up with food burning as you were pressed into the kitchen counter, giving slow, sloppy kisses to Felix for far too long. When he finally let you go, he'd apologize for burning your food and take you out to eat.
Then it was movie night again. Then it was in his room. Then your room.
Felix turned out to love kissing a lot more than you expected. Almost any time you were alone together turned into a lazy make out session. You'd learned the ins and outs of what he liked, how your mouths fit together just right, how eager he was to add tongue, or how he'd always smile into the kiss when you wrapped your arms around his waist or put your hand on his chest.
Every time you'd pull away from him, finally stopping, you'd often end up laying your head on his chest and your head felt fuzzy. Your brain hadn't felt like this before, which was utterly confusing. This was your best friend, but every time you made out with him, your stomach would pull flips and feel like you had butterflies. But, in your head, he was just a friend.
Was he?
You sat on Felix's bed, scrolling your Twitter feed and turning your brain off to the real world. The room was nice and just cold enough for you to be wearing one of Felix's sweaters, which was your favorite. He'd always let you borrow them when it was cold in the house, and they smelled like him. They smelled like home, always taking you to a safe space mentally and cooling your anxiety for a bit.
Peering past your phone, you tuned back in to hear angry phrases coming out of Felix as he sat at his desk. Watching Felix play games was funny, since he never seemed to improve much at them. He always got mad when he lost, and overjoyed when he won. It was obvious he was playing a losing game, and it would be over shortly. You watched on, picking up more about how the game worked, as he gave up and the game ended. He threw his arms up in exasperation, standing up from his desk.
"You okay?" You knew he wouldn't ever really be upset over a game, not in a true way. Though, you always liked to ask so he could vent his frustrations and feel better faster.
"Yeah, fuck, it's just-" Felix let out a long sigh, covering his face with his hands, "I hate playing this game. I always end up losing a bad game and I'm in a bad mood for a while. I don't even know why I play it."
"Awh, 'lix," You opened your arms, "Come here."
Felix walked over slowly to the bed, slumping his body into yours and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your heart tensed, a warm feeling shooting through your body as you wrapped your arms around him and held him close. He let out soft murmurs, speaking angrily under his breath in an unintelligible way that you couldn't make out what he was saying.
You rubbed his back softly in silence until he finally sat up on his own, looking at you. You met his eyes, entranced in his beauty for a few moments before you looked at his expression. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Felix.."
"Please?"
Fuck. Felix's smooth, deep voice always won you over. As soon as he pleaded with you, you folded for him. Your mouth pursed as you tried to fight off a smile, looking away as you took a deep sigh. "Okay, fine."
Felix smiled giddily and let out a small noise of excitement, which hit you in the gut again. You leaned back against the wall behind you, legs dangling over the short side of the bed as Felix climbed onto your lap. You reached up and brushed a bit of hair out of his face, which he smiled at. Your heart wasn't dealing well with this. Before you could keep thinking, he pressed his lips against yours and you were taken into a mind-numbing state of bliss.
Your arms stayed firmly wrapped around his waist to keep him secure as his hands stayed planted on your neck and cheek. Your kisses were always perfectly slow and tender, Felix never liking to rush through it. The way his lips dragged almost lazily over yours drove you crazy, but you took it at his pace, as much as you'd like to go faster.
At least he was a crazy good kisser. You could never get bored of kissing him, even if you had to spend an hour doing it. You just might, as your longest kissing session went for half an hour with only two small breaks in it. Making out with Felix could take up all your time, and you'd be okay with it. As much as you hated how much you liked kissing him, it was true.
So when he finally pulled away from you a few minutes later, you felt a tensing in your gut. Your lips formed a thin line as you looked down at the bed, unable to contain how you were feeling. Every time you kissed, your feelings for him got progressively worse. You'd reached a breaking point.
"You alright?"
Your chest got a strike of pain through it. The innocence and caring in Felix's deep voice could've shattered you in that moment. You were a house of cards spilled all over the floor. You wanted so badly to tell him a lie, tell him everything was normal and fine, but you knew deep down it wasn't true. You loved him.
"No." Your voice shook, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much to handle.
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here. What's wrong?" Felix stroked your hair softly, leaning down to try to see your face.
You pressed your face directly into his chest, a place that had grown to be your comfort spot. His scent filled you with that soothing feeling, but your stomach turned again and you knew it meant something different now than it did before. A tear slid down your cheek. "I can't do this anymore, Felix. It's too much for me."
"Too much for you? Am I making you uncomfortable? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Felix wrapped his arms around you and held you close.
"No, it's not that at all," Your voice broke, trying not to sob, "I think.. somewhere in this whole kissing thing.. I caught feelings for you. I haven't been able to tell you because I didn't want to make it weird, but it was making me feel so guilty.. and I was liking this too much for my own good. I get it if you don't want to hang out with me anymore, Felix. I'm sorry."
Felix froze for a little bit. He continued to hold you and stroke your hair, but he was silent for long enough to make you worry. Your heart ached as you realized that this might be the end of your relationship with him.
"I think I did, too."
"What?" You pulled back suddenly from his chest, meeting his eyes.
Felix's brows furrowed as he nodded. "I wasn't lying when I wanted to kiss you because I missed kissing.. but I think I did it partly because I wanted to kiss you specifically, and I thought I'd fuck things up between us if I tried to make it more than friends."
"Oh, Felix.." You broke into a smile, a few tears still rolling down your face, "You should've told me."
"I know.. I just couldn't get myself to do it. You were in my head all the time, driving me crazy. I knew it wasn't what friends do, but it was the only way I could still be normal friends with you without going mad."
"So, does that mean we can kiss.. like, not just as friends?"
"Yeah."
#felix#lee felix#felix x reader#lee felix x reader#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz fic#felix skz
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⥠Softer, Softest âĄ
⥠Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader
⥠Genre: smut/angst/fluff
⥠Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things heâs more than willing to give.
⥠Word Count: 3.6k-ish
⥠Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, sanâs obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).
⥠A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your bodyâs amazing. Never forget that â¤ď¸
Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. Itâs a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt.Â
The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he canât speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressureâs applied. Now this man? Heâs remarkable. Heâs muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. Thereâs no in between. Heâs a handsome devil but a devil all the same.Â
âYou look like shitâ San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse. Â
The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. âMmm s-s-sorryâ he croaks, âI didnât know she was anyone fucking special.âÂ
San grips the manâs face, grinning in a way that isnât the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the manâs cheeks. âWell now you do.â
This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but theyâre there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one Sanâs been your protector, your admirer. Youâve denied it a million times, convincing yourself youâre simply making more of things than whatâs there. Still, after everything happened you couldnât fathom running into the arms of anyone else.Â
You were dancing like any other nightâworking your section and getting your tipsâwhen some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesnât mean youâre some thing that men can treat however they wish. Itâs a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things youâve ever heard about yourselfâabout your body.Â
It isnât news to you that youâre one of the bigger girls here. San says thatâs what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. Heâs right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes.Â
At least thatâs where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where Sanâs office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadnât considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didnât care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it.Â
This place you work at. Thereâs more to it than whatâs on the surface. Itâs easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, thatâs the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You arenât oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe thatâs exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.
Sanâs heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, âWho did it?âÂ
You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and Sanâs anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. âTell me when you see him, okay, baby?â he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.
You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you âbabyâ. San touching you wasnât a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposefulâthis intimate. You couldnât help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.
âThatâs himâ you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. âIâll take care of itâ he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. âAnd no more crying, baby. Youâre too pretty to cry.â Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time.Â
San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundingsâthe impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the wallsâbut nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable youâd become in your own skin. It didnât help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.
At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting Sanâs jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but theyâre there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourselfâŚ
âI left him out back. Clean him up before someone seesâ San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear.Â
You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if itâs the most natural place for you to be.Â
âSo, what was that?â he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is.Â
âHowâd everything go?â you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage.Â
San shrugs it off like itâs nothing. It still stings but itâs far from the worst pain heâs ever felt. âI said Iâd take care of it. Itâs been taken care of.âÂ
You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. âSan, you make it sound like you killed him.âÂ
He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass.Â
âKilled him? Almostâ he whispers, âI answered your question so itâs only fair you answer mine, isnât it? What were you doing? I came in and you wereâŚâ San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt.Â
âIâŚuhâŚI wasâŚâ you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you canât find a single one.âThereâs this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I donât know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You donât care and anyway, itâs silly.â
âIt is sillyâ he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, âBut youâre wrong to say that I donât care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.â
âI mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girlsâ you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular.Â
San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. âI donât care for any other woman the way I do you.âÂ
There it is, a profession of something very particular. Heâd hoped that youâd seen it by now. He wonders if he didnât do a good enough job of showing you. Itâs been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesnât allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you canât afford to make them but he couldnât help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and youâre all heâs been able to see since. Youâre so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. Itâs why he protects youâwhy he always will.Â
âYour bodyâŚâ he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, âItâs perfect. Thereâs nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you Iâll break both of his hands.â Sanâs gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything youâve ever felt before.Â
âIs that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?â you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.
âSometimes but usually itâs like thisâ he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow.Â
San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. âYouâre so fucking cuteâ he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them.Â
âYou think so?â you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more.Â
Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, âDonât you?âÂ
An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. Itâs the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear.Â
âI watch you sometimes when youâre dancingâ he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, âI know I shouldnât but I canât help myself when you look the way you do. Itâs like youâve put a spell on me. My little witch.â
San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.Â
âBut I donât have any magicâ you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation.Â
Sanâs free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. âYou do have magic, babyâ he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, âItâs right here.â
âAah, Sannieâ you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open.Â
Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now itâs for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how heâs always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone.Â
Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. âHow can a girl be this perfect?â he says, nearly salivating, âEven your pussyâs gorgeous.â Thereâs an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.
âSan, waitâŚâ you beg, grabbing at his hair, but youâre too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongueâs already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you.Â
San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. Heâs drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does.Â
Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his.Â
âYou want it, baby?â San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. Theyâre so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussyâs like splashing in a lake. Youâre wet enough to drown in.
âI want it, Sannie, aah, fuckâŚâ you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tipâs pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit.Â
âThen tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.â He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived.Â
The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. âMy bodyâs, mmph, beautifulâ you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, âI love it.â
âDonât stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe youâ San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out.Â
You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, âI love, aah, my body. I love my body. Itâs beautiful. ItâsâŚitâsâŚâ
Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and heâs hardly able to keep still himself. Youâre so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. Theyâre glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back.Â
Through heavy lids you watch the man youâve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. Sanâs muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but itâs impossible when youâre making him feel like his entire soulâs being snatched from his body.Â
âYou feel so fucking goodâ he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, âCome here.â
San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that youâre close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. Thereâs no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it.Â
âS-SanâŚâ you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach.Â
âYou gonna cum for me, pretty girl?â he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.
Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long heâs had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasnât utterly obsessed with you, but now youâre all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like itâs the only word you know. Heâs so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise.Â
Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. âFill me up, Sannieâ you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.
Sanâs body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. âFuck, babyâ he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each otherâs eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one anotherâs gaze.Â
San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. âTell me, baby, how do you feel now?âÂ
You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. Itâs all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like youâre the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, âBeautiful.â
#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez x female reader#choi san x you#choi san smut#choi san angst#choi san x reader#choi san fluff#chubby reader#plus size reader#ateez x chubby reader
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Buy Me Presents, Baby
A/N: Minors; DNI. I DONT CAREEE I WANT HIM!! Anyways, this may or may not be based on true events in my life. If you're reading this also know that I wrote this Christmas Eve and it is now 5am on Christmas Day, the powerhouse of lust. Hope you guys like this because I DID NOT proofread this AT ALL!! I mention the pill (oral contraception), so sorry if this is an issue, I'm just a girl. I KNOW there is a typo in here... i know it. Merry Christmas!! My gift is porn!!- Love you, Em
edit- the typo was fully in the title⌠go to bed at a reasonable time kids.
Link to the Ao3: Buy Me Presents, Baby Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Woof uhh okay! newly established relationship, Christmas sex, Spanking, Creampie, PnV sex, Reader gets called girl.. I apologize, Oral contraceptives are mentioned at the end, lingerie, that one bow lingerie... yall know which on I'm talking about?, That ONE!! WITH THE BOW YES!!, I had to use the word pussy.. IM SORRT IM NOT HAPPY ABOUT It, dirty talk, cock this cock that, not proofread, merry christmas.
Genre: Porn, no plot. Some fluff? Pairing: Established relationship!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Plot: You and Spencer exchange gifts for Christmas, and one of your gifts happens to be a little physical.
Word Count: 3,669
Spencer doesnât know whatâs gotten into you.Â
Though the longer he thinks about it, he should have seen the signs of your recent⌠restlessness. Being in the BAU came with its challenges, and one of these challenges wasâ of courseâ being away from home. Usually, the two of you would find a special time that worked for both of you to meet up and spend some well-deserved time together.Â
Lately, it has felt like the world was against you, though. Every time you had free time, heâd plan a date night with you, only for him to be called away on a case. The one time you planned a date, you came down with a cold. The cycle kept repeating in a million different annoying ways.Â
The cherry on top? It was almost Christmas. It's nearly Christmas, and neither of you has seen each other for a good three weeksâ itâs miserable.Â
So imagine his excitement when his phone doesnât ring early Saturday morning. When he steps out of his shower, he checks it againâ nothing. Heâs beaming when he calls you, your sleepy voice answering him before he says, âDinner tonight?âÂ
Thereâs a pause, followed by some rustling, âYouâre free?âÂ
âMhm,â He hums with a grin, grabbing his glasses from the case and placing them gracefully on his face.Â
He can hear the excitement in your voice. " You want to exchange presents?â He remembers the playful tone in your voice when you said it, but at the time, he thought nothing of it. He chuckles softly before agreeing, saying a sweet goodbye, and hanging up the phone.Â
Dinner begins and ends at your place, decorated in lights and festive trinkets, and presents wrapped neatly under the fake tree in the corner of your living room. The gift exchange went smoothly; you got Spencer some reading essentials, followed by a special edition of one of his favorite books. Spencer, in turn, had bought you a pair of earrings you pointed out back in November and a framed copy of your favorite painting.
It was getting late now, with a warm cup of tea in his hands, you turned and whispered in a playful voice, âI still have one more gift for you.âÂ
His eyebrows raised at that, bending his head to look at you as you sat with your back pressed against his chest, âMore? After the special edition Tolstoy?âÂ
âMore. I was saving it for the twenty-fifth, butâŚâ You trail off, your eyes leaving his as you glance toward your bedroom. âI could go get it ready now?âÂ
Spencer smiles, thinking about it momentarily before he decides that he might not be home for Christmas. He mutters a soft âYeah, okay.âÂ
You stand up quickly, an excited look in your eyes when you tell him, âOkay, stay here!â And then youâre gone.Â
Spencerâs watching your bedroom door close with a faint smile. He stretches as he waits, his tea finished, when he hears you call out for him, âYou can come in now!âÂ
He stepped into your room with nothing but good intentions, that is, until he saw you lying on your bed in lingerie. Maroon satin material lays smooth against your skin, and the shape of a tantalizing bow teases him at the center of your chest and your underwearâ barely there.Â
He clears his throat in a vain attempt to appear calm and collected, though heâs sure you can see his blushing cheeks and growing arousal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die in the back of his throat when you sit up on your elbows, pushing your breast out toward him a little more with an innocent tilt of your head. âYou donât like it?âÂ
His voice cracks when he says, âNo! I meanâ that is to say, I do like it! I mean, Iâm sure you can see how much Iââ He nervously adjusts his sweater, shaky hands pulling at the collar.Â
You let out a soft hum, relaxing a little. " Are you going to stand by the door the whole time, or?â You tease him with a low laugh.Â
He quickly walks closer, shaking his head as he gets closer to the edge of the bed. The bed dips as he climbs onto the edge of the bed. He watches as you roll on your side to adjust for him, waiting until he is lying beside you before you whisper, âIf you donât want to, itâs okayââÂ
âI do! I do. Itâs just weâve onlyââ He motions between the two of you slowly, replacing the word. âA few times, and I wasnât expecting,â His eyes trail down to your chest, his fingers twitchingâ itching to feel the material against his palm. Â
When he looks back into your eyes, you smile at him with a little sigh, âI know. I just saw it, and I thought of you.âÂ
Spencer feels like his entire body is on fire when you say that. His pants become increasingly uncomfortable as he croaks softly, âThat made you think of me?âÂ
You hum a sweet-sounding âMhm,â you lick your lips, âCognitive association, right?âÂ
Spencer thinks youâll break him with the way youâre talking to him; your voice is low and quiet, clearly amused. He holds back a sound when he feels your hand take his and guide it to your barely clothed hip. For some reason, he wants to spew some facts about cognitive association, but in a rare moment, his mind goes blank.Â
His mind slows, and the only thing he can process is the feeling of satin material against your body. He drags his hand along your side, higher and higher, until his fingers trace the braâs underwire. His eyes flicker over to yours as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.Â
Kissing Spencer always starts soft, tender, and languid. It then slowly devolves into something passionate, heated, roughâ something you adore. And youâre starting to feel the shift in this kiss, his tongue slightly grazing your bottom lipâ a silent plea you happily fulfill, parting your lips to let his tongue tentatively enter the kiss.Â
Youâre smiling into the kiss, shifting with him so youâre under him before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss. Spencer lets out a tiny sound of surprise against your lips at the rough movement, and he pulls away slightly, his lips barely touching yours when he says, âSo aggressive,â His tone teasing as he captures your lips in another giddy kiss.Â
With your eyes closed and mouth occupied, your hands get to work. Blindly, you pull the bottom of his sweater, your lips only leaving his to help him pull the piece of clothing off his body. Heâs eager to get his lips back on yours, his tongue resuming its work against yours, a kiss that makes your head spin and thoughts go hazy with how intense it feels.Â
You move your legs up and around his hips, pushing his hips down to yours with ease. Spencer whines into the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours until he pulls away to kiss your jawline. His hips grind down onto yours, your breath hitching at the feeling.Â
Feeling his hardness through his pants makes you realize just how badly you need him, and it seems it does the same for him. His lips latch onto the lower side of your neck, sucking and licking softly at the sensitive area as his hips grind against yours harder.Â
The feeling makes your core squeeze around nothing; the new desire to get something, anything, inside you plants a seed in your lower abdomen. You feel shamefully needy as Spencer continues leaving light red and purple marks on the sensitive skin of your neck, his breathing heavy as he decorates you with marks.Â
Youâre surprised to see that heâs actually moving lower, his markings getting closer to your collarbone when he pulls away, looking up at you with those lust-filled honey eyes, âMay I?â The tips of his fingers tug lightly at the satin red bow covering your breasts.Â
Your legs leave his hips as he pulls the bow apart with a simple flick of his wrist. His eyes stay trained on your breast as he takes one into his hand and gently rubs at your nipple, eliciting a soft, quiet moan from you, âSo pretty,â Then he dips his head lower to bring your left nipple into his mouth, licking at the sensitive bud with precision.Â
A soundâ embarrassingly loudâ escapes your lips at the feeling, your body squirming against his. Youâre sure you can feel him smiling against your breast, his right hand moving to your right nipple, pinching it lightly.Â
Your fingers latch onto his hair, gently running them through his hair and occasionally pulling when his tongue does something particularly amazing against the bud of your nipple. You can feel electric arousal coursing through you, soft moans and sighs leaving you with every touch.Â
However, heâs pulling his lips away from your breast soon after, his cheeks red as he mutters a low, âNeed to make sure you cum,â And you find yourself nodding in agreement as his hands leave your breast, pulling the lingerieâs satin thong to the side as he swipes two fingers along your entrance.Â
You let out a little sigh, feeling incredibly needy as his fingers brush against your clit teasingly. âDid dressing up like this make you this wet, or did I?â He asks, his fingers curiously leading back down to your entrance.Â
Shifting under him, you let out a breathless chuckle, âA bit of both,âÂ
He grins at that, his head now to the side of yours, his thumb pressing against your clit slowly as he slides a finger inside you. You tense for a second with pleasure before relaxing as the feelings, his finger gently curling inside of you as his thumb presses down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves. âYouâve been fantasizing about this for weeks, havenât you?âÂ
His voice against your ear isnât something you expect, but you arenât surprised for long as he slides a second finger into youâ your thoughts turning to mush, âYes,â You whisper, your back arching slightly at his fingers move faster inside you, curling and pleasing you at a medium pace.Â
Spencer lets out a low hum, his eyes watching you as you get lost in pleasure, his thumb pressing against your clit a little harder as he finds that sweet little spot inside of you. He can feel the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and heâs envious of his own hand, wishing it was his cock instead.Â
Your moans only add to personal envy, his fingers moving and caressing your G-spot with greater precision. He tries not to groan, watching you arch your back off the bed. A cry followed by a string of heightened gasps from you has him wholly enraptured.Â
When his fingers start to get rough inside you, youâre already seeing stars, your left hand reaching over to grab onto Spencerâs bicep at the feelings, fingers gently digging into his skin as your body shakes. âLove watching you get close,â Spencer groans softly against your ear.Â
His lips slowly resume their markings on your neck, and the added stimulation sends you falling over the edge with a loud cry of pleasure. Your body shakes against him, and your high-pitched moans, accompanied by heavy panting, have pride swelling in his chest as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm.Â
His fingers only stop when your body goes slack, his lips leaving your neck to gently kiss at your lipsâ a gesture you return lazily. The feeling of his fingers leaving you has you feeling empty, but youâre quickly distracted as Spencer drags his soaked fingers to his lips. Your eyes widen for a second as you watch your boyfriend lick off every bit of you on them, âLet me get a taste,â Your voice is soft as Spencer leans in, kissing you fast and rough. Your tongue drags along his to get a second-hand taste of yourself in his mouth.Â
Youâre quick to pull away, your hands hooking into the belt loop of his pants, gently yanking at the loop. Spencer laughs at the feeling, and he looks into your eyes with a shameful lookâ lustful and pleading. You know how badly he wants to dive straight in, but his determination to make you cum too many times to count usually gets in the way of his cock.Â
âHavenât seen you in three weeks. You can make it up to me later.â You joke softly, your fingers undoing the top button with ease.Â
Spencer grins as he slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. He finds himself blushing at how your eyes shamefully stare at the outline of his cock in his boxers, precum already wetting some of the fabric. He finds himself doing the same with you, though, his eyes taking in the undone ribbon of the lingerie at your sides, the way your legs are parted to give him a delicious view of your dripping sensitive folds.Â
Your fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers, gently tracing his cock with your fingers, a soft, pleasured sigh leaving his lips at the feeling. âSo hard,â You mutter, leaning up to kiss a part of Spencerâs jaw.Â
Spencer lets out a low hum of agreement. Being as busy as he has been, he hasnât found time for any kind of sexual release as of late. âItâs been a little while since IâveââÂ
âThatâs okay,â You sigh sensually, your hands wrapping around his dick slowly, âTake off your boxers.âÂ
Spencerâs more than happy to comply, hurriedly discarding his boxers at your request. He watches as you pull your hand off him to take off your underwear, and Spencer squeaks out a nervous, âLeave it on?âÂ
Grinning, you nod, your fingers pushing the thong back to the side of him. He groans at the action, looming over you now, his hands on either side of you. âFlip over,âÂ
A jolt of excitement runs through you at the request, quickly flipping over on your stomach for him. A pleased sound leaves your lips as his hand moves to pull your hips up, forcing your back to arch for him. He slides his thumb and index inside the sting on your thong as he slowly rubs his cock in between your foldsâ the head of his cock gently kissing your clit.Â
The worst part about being in an established relationship and having just started having sex with your partner is the anxiety that follows you after you say something risky. Your lips part nonetheless, your hips pushing back against him quickly, âThatâs right, get that cock wet with my pussy.âÂ
You were never dull during sex, but Spencer was not expecting something so vulgar to fall from your lips. His hips stutter against yours before he finds himself incredibly turned on by the sudden confidence and vulgarity in your words. His hands yank your hips back roughly, lining himself up to inch himself inside of you slowly.Â
About halfway inside you, he pulls out till it is just the tip and then repeats the motionâ itâs infuriatingly hot. You let out a soft whine at his toying with you and start to move your hips back against him, but that is met with a surprising spank to your ass.Â
A sharp gasp leaves your lips at the feelings before you blink, lifting your head to peer at him over your shoulder and whisper a little, âHarder,âÂ
Seeing your half-lidded eyes looking over at him, your soft lips begging him to spank you harder, Spencer feels a shiver shoot down his spine. Heâs sure he can feel himself grow harder as he pushes deeper into your pussy and delivers a solid smack to your ass with the flat of his palm.Â
He then follows the motion with a comforting rub of his hand against the swell of your ass. For a second, heâs worried about hurting you or making you uncomfortableâ unexplored territory. The feeling of your walls tightening around him for a second, fluttering in a way that has him bottoming out inside you without hesitation, reassures him.Â
âGod,â He huffs as he sets a pace, his hand occasionally delivering a hard spank to your ass whenever he feels your hips moving with his. You feel terrific; the feel of your reddening ass under his hand, the soft skin of your hip in his other, heâs surprised that he isnât drooling.Â
You, however, are starting to feel yourself beginning to drool. Moans and groans coming from the two of you has your head spinning, the rough feeling of Spencerâs hips against yours making your legs feel weak.Â
Spencer pulls all the way out as he feels himself getting close, his soaked cock resting against your assâ the sight is something has him letting out a shaky sigh. He doesnât need to say anything before youâre flipping over on your back again, legs spread and lips wet as you mutter a needy sounding, âMore.âÂ
Spencer canât find it in himself to deny you or himself, moving closer to you and lining himself up with your entrance again. As he sinks into you, you move your legs up, your hands holding the back of your knee. The new position lets him sink in deeper, and Spencerâs sure youâre an angel.Â
Youâre practically sucking him in, his breathing getting heavier as he moves against you, His eyes dipping between your face and between your legsâ intelligent eyes watching the way his cock disappears deep inside of you. âYou take it so well.âÂ
His hands reach up slowly, tracing the back of your thighs before replacing your hands at the back of your knee, bending your legs back further. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, the gentle gesture leaving your head reeling when accompanied by this immense pleasure.Â
You gasp out at the slight burn of your thighs, toes curling slightly, when Spencer starts to roll his hips in fast, tight circles. The roll of his hips makes his cock hit your G-spot, your eyes rolling back at the feeling as a guttural-sounding groan joins the lewd sounds leaving your lips.Â
Spencer takes that as his sign to snap his hips into yours, his forehead pressing against yours as he moans and whines. âYou feel so fucking good. Iâll never leave again.âÂ
You can feel your lower abdomen tighten quickly at the rough movements. A shaky laugh leaves you at his mention of never leaving, but words fail you as you cry out. The past few times the two of you have had sex, he was never this rough. You arenât complaining, but his frantic, rapid thrusts are leaving you with the feeling that youâll beg for a repeat sometime in the future.Â
A long whine leaves you as you feel yourself getting closer, your hands holding tight on Spencerâs shoulders, your body jolting slightly with his rough thrusts. âSo good! Youâre fucking me so good. Please, donât stop.â You beg without shame, âNeed to cum, make me cum again.â You beg through moans.Â
Spencer almost cums inside you upon hearing your begging, but he holds offâ a new mission in focus. He slows for a second, moving one of your hands off his shoulder and under your knee before he slides his hand down to your aching clit. His thumb makes quick, tight, hard circles without warningâ the scream that leaves your chest has him worried for your neighbors.Â
âThatâs it, tighten around me like that.â He pants out from above you, his eyes locking onto yours as he speaks. He watches the way your eyebrows raise in pleasure, and your mouth starts to let out a mix of silent screams and loud groans. âYou look pretty when you cum around my cock, my pretty girl.âÂ
Your legs are shaking with that, the coil in your abdomen snapping with force as you bite your bottom lip to try and silence the sound of your orgasmâ a groan that almost sounds inhuman. Spencerâs quick to follow, his hips roughly snapping into yours with his thumb continuing its torment on your sensitive clit.Â
The feeling of overstimulation has you letting out a weak-sounding whine, almost a sob. Youâre gasping hard as he keeps going, frenzied thrusts that have your free hand gripping the sheet tight until he bottoms out in you with a shaking groan. His hips thrust into you a few more times as he empties himself into you, shaking hard.Â
A moment passes with neither of you moving, your legs moving down to the bed, and the realization sets in. Spencer looks at you with wild eyes, âIâm sorry, I wasnât thinkingââÂ
You laughed weakly and held up a hand, âSpencer, itâs okay.â Your voice sounds a little raw as you relax into your bed slightly, with him still hovering over you. âIâm on the pill, remember?âÂ
âWell, when taken correctly, itâs 99% effective, but if youâve forgotten a day lately, itâs only 93%.â He pouts lightly when a giggle leaves your lips, but he smiles against his better judgment. âIâm serious, what ifâŚâÂ
âI doubt it will, but if it does come to that, weâll deal with it.â You mutter, slowly reaching a hand up to rake your fingers through his messy brown hair. âClean me up?âÂ
Spencer notes how your voice sounds: shy and a little desperate. He tilts his head, a playful smile on his face as his eyes trail down to your parted thighs, âInsatiable this evening, I see,â He jokes as he begins to lower himself, soft fingers rubbing against your inner thighs. Â
You groan in faux annoyance before you feel his breath fanning against your inner thighs, âMerry Christmas,â You tease softly.
#minors do not interact#minors dni#no minors#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#x reader#fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer x you#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fluff#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid christmas#christmas time#merry christmas#smut fic#smut fanfiction#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert
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â again and again â˘
pairing: mingyu x reader
summary:Â your mother calls one day, asking if youâre bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmativeânever mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.
word count: 15.7k words
tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut
warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)
notes:Â i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF
this is part of the doting on you! series.
smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho
taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn
additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!
When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, youâre getting a nasty case of phone call anxietyâone that you havenât felt in god knows how long. Maybe itâs because of the identity of the person youâre calling that your nerves are all over the place.Â
In fact, youâre not sure if heâs even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu wonât be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by.Â
But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! Heâll bring some again for Chuseok, wonât he?), that you just didnât have the heart to tell her the truth.
So, because you canât take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), youâre attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.
The first call doesnât go through. Neither does the second.Â
By your third try, youâre about to accept the fact that youâre going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, âHello?â on the other line.Â
You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyuâs voice, but youâd rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he wonât even be able to see.
âHey, Mingyu, itâs me,â you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didnât even falter. âItâs been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?â
He doesnât respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when youâre about to repeat the wordsâ
âKind of,â Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. âWe finished taping a variety show today and I figured Iâd get some sleep. Itâs midnight right now.â
Well thatâs news to you.
âOh. Youâre not in Korea?â
âNah. Weâre in New York for some brand collaborations,â he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. âThough I doubt youâve been keeping tabs on us.âÂ
Okay, he doesnât have to call you out like that.
Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, butâŚafter breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought itâs best if you didnât see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didnât use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.
So to speak, itâs been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu.Â
Until now.
âDo you need something?â he asks, and you realize you didnât respond to what he said last. âWhatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. Weâre holed up here until next month.â
WellâŚthatâs all the confirmation you needed.
âI see,â you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. âItâsâ Itâs okay.â
âSo you do need something,â Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. âWhat is it?â
âNothing you should worry about, Gyu,â you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. âIâm sorry for waking you up. You should go back toââ
The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. âCome on, Iâm awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.â
âIf Iâd known we werenât in the same continent, I wouldnât have called altogether,â you say before quaintly adding, âShit. This counts as an international call, doesnât it?â
Thereâs someone else in the room with him, you thinkâa quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan.Â
âFive minutes past midnight,â Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you arenât able to catch. âWho am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpulâs worst enemy.â
âHey!â You scowl at him. âThey never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!â
âNoona? Why are you calling this guy?â Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. âDidnât you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.âÂ
This time itâs Mingyuâs turn to utter out a semi-offended, âHey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.â
A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu mustâve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.
âSorry about that.â He coughs awkwardly. âAnyway, if youâre not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?â
Youâre a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you havenât spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyuâs always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not.Â
The mere thought that he hasnât changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.
You manage a quiet laugh. âIâm fine. The clinicâs fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.â
At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about.Â
Itâs just Mingyu after all.
âOkay, how about the guy whoââ
âI turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.â
He whistles. âOuch. And heâs been trying to get with you all this time.â
âI donât usually date my clients, you know.â
âYeah? I must be special then.â
Then comes the silenceâso thick, you can cut through it with a knife.Â
âUh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,â you tell him a bit awkwardly. âGotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.â
Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. âYouâre really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when Iâm out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.â
You chuckle. âThatâs the thing, Gyu. You canât help me because I need you to actually be here.â
âOh. Why? What for?â
You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.
âMom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,â you admit. âI havenât been home since Christmas, so⌠They kind of have no idea that we arenât together anymore.â
Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isnât talking like thereâs no tomorrow. You wonder if heâs figured out what youâre trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.
âNo way,â he gasps between chuckles. âYou were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, werenât you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except itâs between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.â
âŚKim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. âWhat am I supposed to do? My family loves you. Iâd rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.â
âSo youâre willing to pretend weâre still together just to keep them happy?â
âWell, yeah. Itâs not like youâre an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.â
âBecause Iâm an idol that millions are vying for?âÂ
You roll your eyes. âNo. Itâs because out of all my exes, youâre the only one that Namja actually likes. Thatâs pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.â
Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that youâre only reacting that way becauseâŚit has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.
âPoint taken,â he says. âIâd totally be down to help you out, butâŚyeah.â
âI knew you would be,â you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. âThatâs why I called.â
Silence settles over the line once again, but itâs, by no means, awkward. Itâs moreâŚsentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared.Â
Huh. Youâre friends with MingyuâŚ
âAnyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,â you tell him before you end up saying something youâre not supposed to. âIâll get going now. Good night.â
âHeyââ
You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.
Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.
âSomethingâs telling me youâre still hung up on him, boss.â
Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but itâs not like you can do anything about it.
You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. Itâs something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that thereâs simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic.Â
It was the most unproblematic breakup youâve ever had, and itâs with a famous idol. Who wouldâve thought.Â
âAnyway,â you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. âCare to help me look for the anesthetics? I canât remember where I put them away last timeâŚâ
Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinicâs desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.
You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.
âŚ
One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.
First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home.Â
When you made it out of the train station for this yearâs Chuseok celebration, you didnât even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parentsâ houseâflagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead.Â
You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his companyâs cars on the way hereâlaughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.
The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so youâre rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby oceanâlight glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home.Â
Thatâs what you should feel; like youâre at home. But the fact that youâre about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isnât doing your peace of mind any favors.Â
You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed tooâŚimpersonal with how attached theyâve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.
Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. Itâs barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pierâsorting out todayâs catch with the other fishermen in town.
Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesnât have anything in particular to purchase for the day. Theyâre early risers by default.Â
You canât really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon.Â
When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever youâre in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you donât hear the telltale noise of your family dogâs excitement.Â
What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shutâslippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.
âYouâre back,â he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isnât even thrilled to see you, but youâre too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. âMom said you wouldnât arrive until noon.â
âI wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,â you explain before looking around the garden inside. âWhereâs Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?â
Haneul hums before taking your luggage. âHm. You can say that.â
âWhat does that even mean?â
As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.
However, the moment you realize whoâs holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.
Itâs Kim fucking Mingyu.
The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.
You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins.Â
The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.
What the hell is he even doing here?!
âOh, sweetie, youâre back!â
The sound of your motherâs voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyuâs presence that you didnât notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile.Â
You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you canât exactly glare at him for not giving you a headâs up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, youâll play along. For now.
âAre you surprised?â your mother giggles before patting Mingyuâs shoulder. âMingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!â
âGee, I didnât know about that,â you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. âI thought he was going to be in New York until next month.â
She laughs again. âOh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that heâs going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didnât it, Mingyu-ah?â
The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namjaâs leash.Â
Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. Itâs enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namjaâs slobbery affection in its entirety.Â
As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, âWhat can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of courseâŚâ
You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness thatâs both familiar and foreign at the same time.Â
âI missed her the most.â
This is all a charadeâthatâs what you can confirm from the limited clues heâs dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why heâs suddenly here in your hometownâhaving arrived earlier than you, from the looks of itâa little later.
Whatâs important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.
You should be glad.Â
âŚBut why do those words make your heart ache anyways?
âOf course you do,â you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesnât easily weigh thirty kilograms. âCome on. Letâs get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever sheâs planning on cooking for lunch.â
Mingyuâs smile doesnât falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that heâs racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so itâs normal for him to be a natural at this.Â
But even if you know that this is all an act, you canât help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your graspâthe mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.
Namja whines in your exâs arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.
A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.
As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.
...
Itâs one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when heâs supposed to be overseas.
Itâs another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.
Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed.Â
Except when youâre made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here.Â
The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize youâre breathing it in a bit too much.Â
So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parentsâ house doesnât have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.
Oh, and in your familyâs eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldnât be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.
And there definitely isnât an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.
You totally got this.
An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday.Â
In fact, as you look around further, youâre reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form.Â
But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isnât much to worry about.
Aside from the fact that youâre not together anymore. Fuck.
âHey. Are you awake?â
You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyuâs handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.
âYour mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,â he says. âDo you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?â
âDo I want toââ you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. âMingyu, what I want is for you to explain what youâre doing here.â
He cranes his head. âYou said you needed help.â
âYeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!â you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. âBut then youâre suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we havenât been ignoring each other for months already.â
âHey, Iâd never ignore you.â Mingyu pouts. âI even picked up when you called me at ass oâclock in the morning, remember? If someoneâs ignoring anyone here, itâs you, sweetheart.â
You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesnât seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself insteadârefusing to give into his unintentional charms. âThatâs not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You canât blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldnât be able to help me out.â
âBut Iâm here, right? I thought youâd be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.â
You are. You are happy to see him.Â
But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet canât because your relationship has long expired?Â
You werenât ready for that. You donât think youâll ever be.
âLook,â he starts with a tone thatâs meant to placate you, âyou were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. Iâm just here to help you out since youâre obviously not ready to break the news to your family. Itâs not a big deal.â
You scowl at him. âMingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You canât just play house with me here when youâre expected to be somewhere else.â
Mingyu shakes his head. âListen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You donât have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you Iâd still be here when you need me, right?â
How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame thatâs long been snuffed out?
The problem with Mingyu is that heâs too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. Itâs so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone whoâs nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life.Â
But itâs not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?
âFine,â you grumble. âGive me a few minutes to prep. I donât want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.â
You hate how your chest warms when Mingyuâs eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!
He looks like heâs about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.
âYou better not be making your firstborn in there,â Haneul drawls from the other side.Â
Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. âWe might be making our second born for all you know.â
You wonât survive this weekend. You really wonât.
âŚ
âRemember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?âÂ
You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. Itâs a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but itâs not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.
Besides, if heâs spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.
âWhyâd you bring it up?â you ask. âI thought you didnât like those kinds of dates âcause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.â
Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldnât do anyone harm to entertain Mingyuâs attempt at small talk.Â
âHmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,â he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. âHow about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?â
You sigh, unsure why heâs even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, âI donât think it classifies as a âdateâ, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.â
He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyuâs whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.
âThe dogs are always happy to see me,â he chuckles. âThe cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.â
You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city donât have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasnât bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression.Â
âYou better be glad constrictor bites arenât venomous,â you point out with an airy laugh. âNot even a true loveâs kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.âÂ
âIt can cure a handful of other things though.â
You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. Heâs always been this way, so it doesnât particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.
âI never really got to ask,â you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. âHow are you? Youâre not burning yourself out again, are you?â
You donât see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. âItâs in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. ButâŚhonestly? Itâs been pretty lonely.â
You make a face at that. âLonely? Youâre literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?â
Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, youâre a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight.Â
âYou can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,â he murmurs. âThatâs why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there mightâve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.â
Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so itâs not hard to believe that heâs also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasnât an idol.
But of course, itâs your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now.Â
âThey probably miss you already,â you say. âDonât you guys usually film content for Chuseok?â
âYeah, but all of thatâs prerecorded. Theyâre all with their families right now, too.âÂ
âReally? What are you doing here then?â you tease.
Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.
âWho ever said you arenât family?â
Unfair. Heâs being so fucking unfair right now.
But you canât even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia.Â
He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being âSEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwanâs trusted veterinarianâ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.
You donât tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.
âItâs a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch havenât caught on yet,â your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyuâs company car. âUnless youâre already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! Sheâs already built a good name for herself.âÂ
A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyuâs chest as he pulls out into the street. âYou donât have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.â
Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. âDamn straight.âÂ
You donât express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you donât resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console.Â
The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back.Â
âŚ
The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. Itâs a little endearing to think that, even if itâs the first time heâs meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in.Â
Turns out, one of your cousinsâ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldnât believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parentsâ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leaveâa request that your ex is all too happy to oblige.Â
By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and itâs just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didnât even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway.Â
âHow are you guys doing it?â Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since heâs already had a few beers before your cousins all left. âWhen my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyoneâs existence.â
âEveryone but ours,â Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. âYou just have to communicate with each other constantly. If youâre honest about everything both of you are feeling, then itâll be easier to work things out together.â
Itâs so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didnât go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that youâre already here anyway.Â
Youâll just have to fake it until you make it.
âBut what if the other party doesnât want to talk about it?â Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. âI wanted to make it work. I really did. But she⌠She didnât even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.â
You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.
But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you canât help but find similarities between the stories.Â
You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. Theyâd just gone back from tour, and you know youâre not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams.Â
âIâve been thinking about it for a while now, but I donât think weâre going to work, Gyu,â you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. âI think itâs best if we just focused on our careers.â
You thought heâd throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.
âOkay,â he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. âThank you for being with me all this time.â
In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the tableâabruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane.Â
âThen, youâll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,â he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. âIf you really love her, youâll respect whatever choice sheâs come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesnât involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything youâve built together.â
When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like thereâs cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.
âItâs a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.â
Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. âYou two are so in love itâs actually disgusting. You know what, letâs just go to sleep.â
Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.
You donât wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. Thereâs also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyuâs a notorious blanket hogger, and youâd rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth.Â
Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, youâre already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldnât have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since heâs last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber?Â
Itâs been too long, and he isnât about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.
âŚ
Sometime in the middle of the night, youâre rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.
Itâs only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that itâs a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that youâre not exactly alone.Â
Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry.Â
âYouâve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,â he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesnât even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. âWhatâs wrong?â
You sigh. âItâs cold, and it isnât even winter yet.â
He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if youâre practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, âWhat the hell are you doing?!â
âYou told me back then Iâm as good as a furnace on cold days,â he mumbles as he tucks you into his chestâmaking you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. âIf it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. Howâs that sound?â
Friend. You know thatâs all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze youâre in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time youâve spent as lovers.Â
Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmthâsomething that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by.Â
He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but thereâs an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldnât think of what heâs doing as anything but a favor between friends. Youâre perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.
But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you donât even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.
It doesnât seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you donât think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning.Â
However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.
This is stupid. Youâre both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.
Yet you canât bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.
You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyuâs fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.
You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isnât how you should go about it.
âLetâsâŚâ you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. âLetâs just sleep.â
Mingyu doesnât argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth.Â
For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.
âŚ
The next morning, youâre set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch timeâneither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.
But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.
âCan you bring Namja along with you back to the city?â she asks. âHeâs been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.â
You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retrieverâs health, aside from the usual signs of age. Heâs ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isnât such a mystery to see that Namja isnât as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end.Â
Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesnât sound so bad.
Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the rideâpromising that heâs car-trained, and wonât make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.
âI can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?â he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you arenât always so far away, that is, but choose not to.Â
The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isnât behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldnât end up whining for attention the whole drive back. Itâs a setup that youâre pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows youâre not exactly ready to talk aboutâŚwhatever happened last night.Â
So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesnât get any ideas.
âYou sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?â you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. âHe might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.âÂ
Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namjaâs ears. âI promised Iâd have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Donât worry about it.â
âHm. Whatever you say.â
By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer itâs going to take before you reach Seoul.Â
Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.
Youâre startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.
âYeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,â he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namjaâs food and water bowls. âLetâs go. Iâll drive.â
After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepyâcontent with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so heâs able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.
You canât help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But thatâs your first mistake because now, youâre thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didnât pull them close enough.
You shake your head. No. This isnât how friends should think about each other.Â
Whatever happened back in Haenam, youâre just going to have to leave it there.
Itâs already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live.Â
âGuess that concludes our weekend getaway,â Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. âThough it seems that someoneâs getting pretty cozy really quickly.â
Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.
âYeah. I guess it is,â you murmur before managing a kind smile. âThanks for having my back, Mingyu. ItâŚmeans a lot. Really, it does.â
He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isnât so different from Namjaâs. âYou have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing youâre in good company.â
Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namjaâs namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didnât need anyone else.Â
He lived up to his title for years, tooâalways acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parentsâ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.
âYou know,â Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. âMy familyâs in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow. âWhereâs Aji?â
âToo old to travel around,â he chuckles. âBut Iâm sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?âÂ
You hesitate. This shouldâve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldnât create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In factâŚ
âWhat, you havenât told your family that we split either?â you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.
âNo, they know.â Mingyu shakes his head. âBut theyâve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.â
You shoot him a pointed look. âYou know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?â
When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle.Â
âIt does, but itâs still going to be fun,â he says. âSo, are you coming?âÂ
Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldnât be so fucking difficult.
âFine.â
âŚ
The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while sheâs giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.
âOh, thereâs this one guy whoâs bringing in a maltese today,â she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. âI think his name was⌠Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasnât been back since.â
Seungkwanâs coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.
You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what youâre trying to say. Sheâs all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him.Â
But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that heâs one of the members that doesnât particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.
Heâs dressed discreetlyâdark shades, a beanie, and a black face maskâwhile carrying an adorable pet carrier thatâs probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that itâs hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago.Â
But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.
âNoona, you have no idea how much I missed you!â he wails before throwing his arms around you. âOther vets just donât cut it for Bookkeu! Theyâre always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Canât believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.â
You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. âHey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. Youâre always welcome to come back to have your pets checkedânon-showbiz girlfriend or not.âÂ
âThat hyung of mine is stupid,â Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. âWell, youâre kind of the same way, but I canât exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeuââ
âI would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,â you complain.Â
âOkay, itâs just my personal opinion that maybe you two didnât have to split up at all,â he huffs. âMingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when weâre not recording anything? Heâs always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyungâs nerves sometimes.â
Listless, huhâŚÂ
Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie whoâs staring outside the door to your clinic, like heâs waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again.Â
Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu arenât so different?
âMaybe heâs just going through a blue period,â you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. âItâs been so long since we broke up. I doubt heâs acting that way because of me.â
Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like heâs just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. âNoona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that arenât related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.â
You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight.Â
âHe wants you back, but heâll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,â Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. âBut now, something tells me that youâre still hung up on him, just as much as heâs hung up on youâif all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.â
Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom⌠He mustâve been talking to Seungkwan.
âOkay, but why does it feel like youâre using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?â You laugh softly. âSeungkwan, our time is up. And itâs not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.â
âWhâ! Donât you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?â He sighs, exasperated. âAlso, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that youâll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We canât stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you canât resist those cute puppy eyes, right?â
You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.
âAlright, alright,â you relent. âIâm meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.â
Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. âSee! Youâre having dinner with his family, too?! If youâre not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.â
Now, itâs your turn to pout. âWho are you going to go to for Bookkeuâs check-ups then?â
He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You canât help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance.Â
âPoint taken,â he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. âBut Iâm expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?âÂ
You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. âNo promises.â
When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for todayâs visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You havenât seen him this excited in years.Â
Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesnât need to reiterate what he asked of you out loudâthe look in his eyes is already telling enough.Â
Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not heâs silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days.Â
Otherwise, heâs happy and healthy tenâgoing elevenâyears into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.
Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasnât really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. Heâs still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.
Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So itâs kind of hard to believe that heâs been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior.Â
The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where youâre seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows youâre thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.
âI wonder what Iâm supposed to do,â you chuckle. âMaybe I shouldâve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.â
Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesnât approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh thatâs a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.
Are you picking me up later or not?
âŚ
Dinner with Mingyuâs family is splendid
The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon youâve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places youâll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway.Â
Namja is a bit shy around other animalsâa result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, theyâre running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.
âUnnie, are you back together with this guy?â Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. âYou can do so much better than him, though.â
Their father laughs at their youngestâs comment, and their mother rubs Mingyuâs back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.
âShut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,â he whines.Â
âWell, weâre both right.â
You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, âDonât say that. Gyu wasnât that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?âÂ
âHeâs always so busy though. Doesnât even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,â Minseo sulks. âHe even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?â
Mingyu pouts. âI said I was sorry, didnât I?âÂ
She huffs. âNot sorry enough!â
âWell, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,â you say. âHe also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and itâs an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, heâll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.â
You donât know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.
Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, whyâd you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? Itâs been so long that you donât even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were rightâyour careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.
As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyuâs eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that youâll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for.Â
âUgh, fine,â Minseo huffs, and you donât think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. âThis is the first time Iâve seen a couple thatâs broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two arenât secretly dating again?â
âMinseo,â their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. âIâm sorry about her. Minseoâs just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.â
She rolls her eyes. âAs if Iâll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didnât even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!â
âSpeaking of dating again,â their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. âMinseoâs right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. Whatâs stopping you from getting back together again?â
At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. âDad, thatâs a really inappropriate question, donât you think?â
âOh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really justâŚcurious, so to speak.âÂ
He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.
Itâs like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didnât they consider the logistics of it? Youâre a full-time vet and Mingyuâs a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though youâre a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.
Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his fatherâs question still lingers in the back of your mind.Â
Whatâs stopping you from getting back together again?Â
The answer is pretty simple, but itâs not something youâre ready to face just yet.
Itâs you. Youâre the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didnât need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant youâll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, youâre convinced itâs the other way around.
Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love heâs so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesnât flake out when he needs them most.Â
Someone who isnât you.
When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, âOh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want toââ
âGyu,â you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. âWhat are we doing?â
He blinks. âCelebrating Chuseok together?â
âBut weâre friends right?â You laugh somewhat bitterly. âFriends donât normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each otherâs families. Friends donât make out with each other in the middle of the night. AndâŚâ
You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, âFriends donât look at each other the way you look at me.â
You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you donât turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and heâs back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.
In the backseat, you can hear Namja whiningâever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking whatâs wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyuâs borrowed car.
The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didnât have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.
When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wristâforcing you to meet his desperate gaze.Â
âIf I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?â he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. âSo Iâm sorry if Iâm being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I wonât ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.â
When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you canât bear to look away. This is what a man thatâs been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems.Â
And you donât think you can keep resisting him for long.
âBefore I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,â he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, âcanât you at least let me have this? Let me have you?âÂ
You donât even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you donât care. Not when heâs desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim whatâs always been yours.
He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.
âItâs you,â he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. âItâs always been you. And it will always be you.âÂ
You know Mingyu is a good actor. But itâs so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is.Â
But tonight, you donât think thereâs anything wrong with letting yourself fall.
In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, whoâs impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.
Once youâve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shutâall too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off.Â
The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.
âI donât remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,â he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. âI canât say I hate the development though.â
âMingyu,â you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. âPlease. I want you.âÂ
Itâs so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why youâve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man thatâs currently staring you down like heâs doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away.Â
But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyuâs thick fingers into your mouth.
âSo good for me,â he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand thatâs not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighsâcupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. âHow badly do you want me, sweet thing?â
âSo, so badly,â you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. âPlease, GyuâŚâ
When heâs satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. Thereâs something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the sideâgroaning when he finds you already soaked for him.Â
âYou need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, donât you?â he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. âYou want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.â
You want to say that youâre too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesnât prep you. With how long itâs been since youâve laid in bed together, you donât want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.
So, you mewl, âFingers first. Then your cock.â
Mingyu laughsâa deep, sexy soundâbefore planting a kiss on your nose. âThatâs my girl.â
He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesnât have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You donât say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.
âYouâre always so quick to get wet for me, baby,â he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. âYouâve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .â
âGyu, Iââ Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand.Â
âWhat was that?â
Heâs teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him.Â
âI missed you, too,â you whisper. âYouâre the only one who can make me feel this good.â
A dozen emotions flit through Mingyuâs face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you donât quite catch before heâs taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when youâre about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.
Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot.Â
But he doesnât seem to notice the way youâre reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes offâdark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you canât help but press your thighs together in anticipation of whatâs to come.Â
There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldnât walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.
âLetâs get you out of that dress, sweetheart,â he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side.Â
You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didnât expect to get laid tonight.Â
âDoesnât matter,â Mingyu chuckles. Itâs either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what youâre thinking. âIâm taking everything off anyways.â
As he makes quick work of whatâs left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him youâd âclear the airâ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.
Youâre pretty sure what youâre doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you donât really fucking care right now.
You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed.Â
Heâs just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.
âCan I?â he whispers.
You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. Itâs been a while, but you canât easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.
âYes,â you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. âDo whatever you want with me, Gyu.â
The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. Heâs such a talker in bed, tooâwhispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.
âSo fucking pretty,â he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but heâs left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites theyâll turn into come morning. âAnd itâs all for me.â
Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach.Â
âMingyu,â you whimper against his mouthâhot and heavy. âI need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.â
He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flashâpositioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you couldâve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.
âFuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,â he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart.Â
You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already.Â
âShhh,â he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. âLet me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.â
And you donât doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?
When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if itâs going to hurt. Mingyuâs attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority.Â
He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.
âIâll go slow, alright?â he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. âWords, baby. You have to talk to me so Iâll know if you really want it.â
âGyu,â you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. âIâm alright. Anything you do is alright with me, justâ Please. Please fuck me full.â
He sighs, staring down like he doesnât know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entranceâpushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but itâs not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. Youâve taken Mingyuâs cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.
âPretty pussyâs happy to see me again,â he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. âStill made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.â
âYes,â you drawl. âMissed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuckââ
You feel so hot, so full. Itâs like Mingyuâs the only thing youâve ever knownâsurrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesnât move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he wonât press forward until heâs sure youâre ready.
âIs it too much?â he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. âDo you need more time to get used to me?â
Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. âWhat I need isâŚfor you to fuck me until I black out.â
Mingyuâs lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. âBaby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after weâve been apart for so long. I donât want to hurt you.â
Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.
âBut I can still make you feel good.â
He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you donât expect, splaying your thighs further until theyâre flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch shouldâve been uncomfortable, youâre too blindsided by the pleasure to notice.Â
Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionaryâsomething about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think youâre starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.
The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussyâ
Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?
âYouâre going to laugh at me for this but,â Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. âI think Iâm kinda close.âÂ
You do laugh, but itâs quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasnât forgotten how to get you off after all this time.
âI am, too,â you tell him. âCock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.â
Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrustâreducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.
âYour pussyâs a fucking drug, babygirl,â he sighs. âHavenât wanted anyone else after you.â
Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But itâs immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel fullâ
And then, itâs overâa white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyuâs embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and heâs all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm thatâs starting to stagger.Â
âSo goddamn tight,â he growls. âWhere do you want my cum, sweetheart?â
Youâre still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that thatâs the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting downâhis cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.
He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.
The look scares you. Like heâs about to say something that you donât know how to respond to.Â
So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.
âMore,â you whimper. âI need more, Gyu.â
And heâs all too happy to oblige.
Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasnât present earlierâyour mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin.Â
âBabygirl canât get enough of this cock, can you?â he sighs. âSeems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.â
âYes!â you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. âLove your cock so much, pleaseââ
âCome for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.â
Itâs unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your bodyâsending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch.Â
Just when you thought Mingyuâs finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomachâpressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but youâre too dazed to protest.
When you glance over your shoulder, heâs showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.
âYou can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?âÂ
When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheetsâhaving momentarily forgotten that Mingyuâs stamina can go until morning. If you donât stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.
But honestly? Youâre not against the idea. Not one bit.
âŚ
When you wake up the following day, itâs to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyuâs absence.
You never minded living alone. Youâve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. Youâre used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.
Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isnât with you, but youâve learned to take it in stride.Â
BesidesâŚitâs not like youâre together anymore now.
This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treatâŚwhatever this is as if itâs a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. Thereâs nothing more to it.
However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.
He doesnât notice you right awayâtoo preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where youâre standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.
âOh, youâre awake!â
Mingyu faces you with a smile thatâs nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. Itâs the exact same scene that youâre greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesnât have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.
âYeah, I am.â You smile, rubbing Namjaâs belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. âWhat are you still doing here? Donât you have to go back to New York tonight?â
âYes, but itâs still morning,â he points out, and you roll your eyes.
A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesnât want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when heâs binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.
When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is soâŚdomestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.
You pray that Mingyu doesnât breathe a word about it, but of course things donât always go your way.
Just when youâre about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyuâs armsâunable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.
âI think,â he whispers, âwe can still make this work. You and me.â
You bite the inside of your cheek. âGyuâŚâ
You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothingâs impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, butâŚ
Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone againâŚÂ
Maybe it isnât so bad to let him back inside your heart.
âO-Of course, you donât have to answer right away,â he says, turning red in the face. Cute. âYou can tell me when I get back from New York. Howâs that sound?â
Youâre about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyuâs phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to youâfishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.
âKim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!â
âGood morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,â he chuckles. âWhy? Whatâs wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I wonât be coming back to the dorms until noon.â
âWell, Jeonghan-hyung mustâve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didnât make it home!â the younger man squawks. âWe thought something bad happened! You werenât answering your phone last night either!âÂ
You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didnât want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwanâs rage, too.
âSorry about that, I was a littleâŚbusy,â Mingyu supplies.Â
âWell, whatever youâve been âbusyâ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you donât bring it back soon, heâs going to give all of us an earful.â
âFine, fine. Iâll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.â
âHeyâ!âÂ
Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.
âIâll be back,â he murmurs. âI hope youâll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.â
Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namjaâs head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that heâs been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while youâre dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.
When you hear Mingyuâs car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.
âKim Mingyu is such an idiot, isnât he?â you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means heâs agreeing with you. âWhy wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?â
This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.
You donât mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesnât mind waiting for you. At this point, youâre at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that youâll definitely show him.
Again and again.
this is part of the doting on you! series.
#svthub#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#svt smut#svt fanfic#kim mingyu#seventeen mingyu#mingyu x reader#seventeen x reader#fake dating#mingyu smut#lovelyhan#full length fic đ
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
#writing advice#rambling#first drafts#gotta say not mad on being called a horrormaster#feel like ive a ways to go yet#horror journeyman maybe
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Ëâ⧠ᴥɪĘĘ ÉŞá´ Ęá´ á´á´sá´á´Ę É´á´á´Ą? â§âË
⥠ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ⥠total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ⥠contents: ๨ৠđ đđđđĄđđđ˘đĄđđĄđđđ đđ đĄâđđ ๨ŕ§, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ⥠listen along: casual by chappell roan âĄ
- ᥣ�� time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᥣđŠ -
áŻáĄŁđŠ ɢá´á´á´ [ 3 Ęá´á´Ęs ]
on the list of people that you thought youâd see tonight, geto isnât even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, âholy shit, guess who we saw tonight?â you wouldâve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories youâve only heard of, and then geto.Â
after that night, you really didnât see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didnât know was mutual at the time) friendâs party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.
fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and youâre stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didnât really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? â wow, he looks great â does he live nearby still? â thatâs weird â no, it isnât weird, i still live here â then what are the fucking chances that heâs here â no, seriously he looks so good
he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just canât put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.
in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, thatâs really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.
the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story youâd recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one youâre in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, âi remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it wouldâve been like if we met now instead.â
the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation heâs been enthralled with for as long as youâve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you.Â
when he does, he asks, as if heâs just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, âshit⌠is that you?â he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.
the friend that youâre with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. âwe used toâŚ,â he pauses, âsee each other? for a little bit.â
you canât help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. âyes, yes we did,â you nod. âback in college,â you explain a little further, âbeen a while.â
the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how youâve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, âyeah, i actually thought about you the other day.â
you nearly choke on the drink heâs bought you. you rush to put it down. âyou did?â you ask.
he nods. âi donât even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.âÂ
you donât say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you donât know how to say that you donât care anymore, that you havenât thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, âwe were practically kids.â
he answers so quickly, âwell, kids or not, iâm sorry.â
you laugh, gently so he wonât think youâre laughing at his apology. really, youâre laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. âthank you,â you nod. he nods back.Â
when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, youâre half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that itâs heading in.Â
but heâs different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesnât taste selfish. it doesnât feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesnât touch a single other inch of your body until heâs found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.
your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs.Â
âshit,â he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, heâs careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. itâs pressured, but comfortable.Â
he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he canât help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest.Â
âhey,â you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. âdonât hold out on me here.â you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.
you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and youâre unable to hold any sort of facade. âah- shit, f-fuck,â you cry, âholy shit.â you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.
ân-no,â you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, âno, donât stop, but- ah,â you groan, âyour- you were- i meant,â you exhale a laugh, âlet me hear you.â
his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, heâs fucking you better than youâve ever been fucked in your entire life, but thatâs not what makes you crumble. no, itâs his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin.Â
you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. âmore,â you mumble against him, and youâre not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. youâre certain heâd give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.
thereâs a moment after when youâre lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you donât know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you werenât expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesnât matter, but it does. youâre not sure if you just donât want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you.Â
when you turn your head to face him, heâs already looking at you. he doesnât shy away in embarrassment, like itâs wrong that heâd be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. âshould we get breakfast in the morning?â
in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, âin the morning?âÂ
he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. âif thatâs okay with you,â he says and then kisses you again.
âokay,â you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. âyeah, sure,â you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all thatâs left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.
áŻáĄŁđŠ á´á´á´ÉŞ [ 3 á´á´É´á´Ęs ]
you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.
you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like theyâre on a looping track, and you realize that-
you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third donât really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, youâd be skipping to the door.Â
but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but thereâs a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient.Â
you donât have to look through the peephole to know whoâs standing on the other side of the door, but youâre glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, youâre convinced, like youâve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, thatâs what you tell yourself.Â
toji hadnât contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that youâd hear from him. when that didnât happen, you started telling yourself that you didnât care if you heard from him. youâve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things youâd say to him and how youâd say them.
now, looking out at him just standing there, youâre frozen. every scenario youâve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that youâve rehearsed and you canât recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like youâre not home.
âi can see the shadow of your feet under the door,â toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body.Â
you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, youâre not sure it wouldâve mattered. you donât think time is something that couldâve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didnât even prepare you for seeing him. you donât know what to say, so you donât say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait.Â
âi-,â he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly youâre not sure.Â
âwhat, toji?â you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. youâre grateful for that. âwhy are you here?â
âshit, this is already hard enough for me t-,â he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration.Â
you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, âsorry, this is hard for you?â you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. âyou know that you havenât talked to me in three months, right? you havenât talked to me?â you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence.Â
âyeah, no, of course i know that,â he combats, like youâre the one thatâs being an asshole right now.Â
you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, âare you going to answer my question orâŚ?â
âlook, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,â he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadnât come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you mightâve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils.Â
âdo you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?â you ask. itâs a rhetorical question.Â
one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope.Â
one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasnât coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation wouldâve gone very differently you think.Â
but he didnât. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there werenât many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less.Â
âi-,â he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view.Â
âplease donât waste anymore of my time,â you reply and itâs softer than you intend. you thought itâd come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesnât reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, youâll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.
âiâm not here to waste your time,â he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing heâs said to you tonight. âi-,â he huffs again, âiâm here to say sorry. and-,â he hesitates.Â
you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how youâre standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. youâre not sure whatâs worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.
âand ask⌠are you already seeing someone else?â he finishes.Â
youâre dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, âgoodnight, toji.â you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.
âno,â he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, âi- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actuallyâŚâ
you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, âgoodnight, toji.â
he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before youâve barely even moved it. âwait, no, i- fuck,â he mutters, scrambling, âcan i just come in?â
âso that was your plan then?â you drop your hand from the door. âto come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if iâm sleeping with anyone, tell me that youâve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?â you ask.
âi didnât have a plan-,â he replies.
âclearly,â you interject.
âbut iâm trying,â he finishes, and youâre waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you donât really see that here.
âfucking christ, toji, youâre going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,â you sneer.Â
âwe- we had a good thing,â he tries again. you donât understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?
âfuck you, man,â you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest.Â
âno, not like that,â he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldnât have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- âfor the last six months of our relationship, i didnât sleep with anyone else,â he admits like itâs the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you donât realize what heâs said for 10 whole seconds.
âi, so what?â your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasnât the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, weâre not fucking dating. okay, just checking.
the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left.Â
his answer is much different. he says, âso nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.â
âwell, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?â you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me.Â
âwhatever you want,â he answers instead.
you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. âyou know what?â you say, and it doesnât sound angry, it sounds playful, âno, seriously,â you smile and then you laugh, âfuck you, toji.â you close your mouth like youâre done talking, like thatâs all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.
âyou show up here and youâre an asshole and then youâre decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what youâre trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?â you say, exasperated.Â
âwhat i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. thatâs what i wanted,â you spit, âi wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. thatâs what i wanted.â
and then itâs there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know youâve done everything and said everything that youâve needed to. heâs quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?
âokay,â he says, and itâs soft in a way youâve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. âiâm sorry.â he pauses. âi really donât know how to do this,â he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along.Â
âdo what?â you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if heâs going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now.Â
âask for forgiveness?â he says, like heâs thinking out loud, âapologize? date someone?â you donât say anything. youâre looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, âactually care about someone.â
âand do you?â you ask.
his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and heâs barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if heâs grown from this, youâll let him back in, you swear, but youâve been hurt before and you know what youâre worth, so youâre going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. âyeah,â he mumbles, but itâs audible. âyou,â he says like it isnât obvious, and itâs quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.
âokay,â you say, and thatâs all you say.
âokay?â he questions, confused. âthatâs it?âÂ
âyup,â you say, but your small smile and the fact that youâre not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that.Â
âcan i⌠come in?â he asks, hesitant, like heâs still being tested.
you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. âno,â you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. âbecause if you come in here, weâre going to have sex,â you admit, half because itâs the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (itâs worth it.)
âwait,â he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body thatâs made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. âthat sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?â
âbecause this is me having self-control,â you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him thatâs crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself whatâs at stake here, what you really want.Â
âi came all the way out here to see you-,â he starts, but he doesnât make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. itâs for the better, too, because youâre not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever.Â
âif you really care,â you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, âand you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,â you pause, letting those words sink in, âyou will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.â
âi-,â he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldnât have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesnât know that, you donât think, but even if he does, he doesnât act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, âokay. i will just⌠talk to you⌠tomorrow⌠then.â
you nod. âgoodnight, toji,â you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it.Â
âuh, yea, night,â he says back. you wonât tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.
áŻáĄŁđŠ ɢá´á´á´ [ 3 á´Ąá´á´á´s ]
being away from ɢá´á´á´ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but⌠coffee.Â
like you know itâs not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but itâs a habit youâve had for a while now and you just canât seem to break it. itâs not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and youâve been doing it for so long that itâs probably fine to just keep doing it.
but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you donât feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that youâve ever had in your entire college career, youâre holding a cup of coffee.
so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you donât really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and itâs stupid, you think, because itâs just coffee. it doesnât mean anything. just because youâve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesnât mean it has any sort of hold over you. itâs just coffee.Â
but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you havenât left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you canât relapse with coffee; itâs fucking coffee.Â
yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee.Â
you try to just not see him. itâll be easier for you if you just donât see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you donât absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while youâre doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee.Â
and it works for a while.
but not forever.
three weeks into your detox and youâre doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that youâre walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt.Â
you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didnât see it was you. (in the back of your mind, youâre hoping that heâs the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, heâs already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. âhey,â he calls out, just in case you havenât seen him.
âhi,â you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.
âiâve been trying to get ahold of you,â he offers, like you wouldnât have known that.
âoh, sorry, havenât been on my phone,â you lie. he knows that youâre lying. he can tell that youâre lying, so you donât really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.
âlook, aboutâŚ,â he trails off, trying to remember how long heâs been without you, âabout that⌠dayâŚ,â he opts for instead.Â
you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, donât worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, âwe donât have to talk about that here.â here. fucking here. if you wouldâve left those four letters out, it wouldâve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you donât. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful.Â
âright,â he says, nodding, âshould we get coffee maybe, then, or?â
itâs not out of the ordinary, or it didnât used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if heâs sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that arenât together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. âsure,â you agree, âi just got done with class so we cou-.â
âi know,â he says, because three weeks hasnât erased your schedule from his brain either.Â
you order an iced tea. youâre still convinced youâre done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like heâs never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasnât, but he doesnât say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and itâs refreshing, but itâs lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isnât as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- âcan i start?â you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession.Â
âyeah, sure,â he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.
âif at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we werenât together, i donât think we should have this conversation,â you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say werenât.
âi wasnât-,â he shakes his head, sighing, âno, i wasnât going to say that.â
âokay,â you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. âthen what were you going to say?â
he thinks for a minute, like he didnât assume that heâd get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. âi wanted to stop you from leaving,â he says.
âbut you didnât,â you rebuttal.
âi didnât,â he affirms. itâs quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as theyâre picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. âiâm sorry,â he says after a while.
âso, do you think we were together?â you ask, âand be honest. iâll know if you lie.â you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.
âyeah,â he says, honest. âbeing apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things iâve ever been through.â
âever?â you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isnât somewhat true for you too.Â
he nods in response, continuing, âitâs been hard.â he pauses. âiâm sorry i was so shitty.â
âpretty shitty, yeah,â you agree, but you canât hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. âiâm sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,â because it deserves to be said too.Â
âi really missed you,â he says, and he doesnât hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too.Â
âme or just, like, sleeping with me?â you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again.Â
he laughs softly and, try as you might, you canât stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. âplease, i havenât thought about sleeping with you once,â he jokes.
âoh, no? not at all?â you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.
he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, âcanât say that i have.â youâre laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that heâs actually being genuine. ânot really,â he says.Â
âso just me then?â you ask to make sure.
âjust you,â he affirms. âa lot of just you.â you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, âi donât want to just go back to the way things were. i donât think thatâs enough for me anymore.â
even though youâre sure a response like this wouldâve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesnât. it just feels right. you reply quickly, âgood. i donât think itâs enough for me either.â you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips.Â
he doesnât protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body.Â
why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?
áŻáĄŁđŠ Ęá´É´á´s! Ęɪɢá´Ęá´á´á´ [ É´/á´ ]
youâre not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme.Â
ᥣđŠ â˘ď˝ĄęŞŕ§ Ëâ
âdo you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?â higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs.Â
you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. âthat is a really wild thing to ask while youâre inside of someone,â you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?
he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. youâre breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. âdo you?â he asks on his exhale.
you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements donât dizzy you. âi- donât- know-,â you huff, âmaybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.â each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.
ᥣđŠ â˘ď˝ĄęŞŕ§ Ëâ
âshit,â you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. âwait, how did your meeting go today?â you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat.Â
when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, âreally good actually.â
âeverything as planned?â you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act.Â
he nods, smiling. âyeah, to a t,â he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. âsurprised you didnât ask as soon as i came through the door.â
you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. âwas thinking about it all day,â you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. âbut when- shit- when you got homeâŚ,â you grunt, âit completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.â
âts alright, pretty.â he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you donât have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. heâll bring it up again in a bit.
ᥣđŠ â˘ď˝ĄęŞŕ§ Ëâ
âshould we get married?â he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall.Â
âyou are not proposing to me while iâm riding you,â you say, shaking your head, but you donât still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just donât phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldnât surprise you if he did propose right now. youâre not even sure youâd say no.
the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. âiâm not, iâm not,â he assures, âwhy? would you say no?âÂ
youâre quiet for a minute, not because you donât know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you wonât lie to him, you donât think, but you donât want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that heâs not expecting serious answers to; youâve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you couldâve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he wouldâve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, âcourse not. iâd say yes in a second.â
he nearly comes inside of you right there.
ᥣđŠ â˘ď˝ĄęŞŕ§ Ëâ
maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out.Â
you canât tell if itâs intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you donât do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry youâll forget them and you know that higuruma wonât judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, youâre not sure.Â
but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then itâs like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. itâs almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this.Â
it didnât help, you think, that itâs just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something youâve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out.Â
youâre not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when heâs not around, and vice versa. in fact, youâre not even convinced that itâs something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, itâs probably just a really weird and common coincidence.
and then one night you canât find your keys.Â
youâve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higurumaâs coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guysâ apartment. theyâre nowhere to be seen.Â
when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where youâre searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, âwoah.â
you pop your head into the doorway, âdonât say anything about the mess.â you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. âhey,â you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. itâs routine at this point; if you donât do it your whole night feels off. âi said donât say anything.â
he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. âi didnât say shit,â he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, âthe fuck happened here though?â he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes.Â
you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that youâre back in the living room, itâs like you have to start this roomâs search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. âlost my fucking keys,â you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, âi swear iâve looked everywhere. i just canât remember where i left them when i got home.â
âdid you check th-,â he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that youâre not in there with him or he knows youâd yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere.Â
you cut him off, âwherever youâre about to say, probably yes, ughhh. iâve retraced my steps, iâve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. iâve looked everywhere.â
from where heâs stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, âwell, not everywhere or you wouldâve found it by now.â
âiâll kill you,â you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.
he just laughs, âiâve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.â
âgood legal canât help you when youâre dead,â you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places youâve already checked.Â
15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. âoh my god, i have an idea,â he says, and you look at him, hopeful. âyou know when you usually remember things?âÂ
your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. âiâm serious!â he yell-laughs.Â
you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. âthatâs not going to fucking work,â you say.
âhow do you know?â he asks.
âbecause,â you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, âbecause i donât remember things while iâm riding you. itâs not a fucking superpower.â
âyou donât know that,â he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. âokay, okay, but iâm being serious! besides, whatâs the worst thing that can happen? you donât remember and weâve had sex, how horrible,â he reasons.
you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face.Â
eight minutes later and heâs inside of you and youâre the most embarrassed youâve ever been.
âthis is so stupid,â you mumble. you havenât moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. youâre fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering.Â
he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. âts not stupid,â he reassures, but youâre not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just wonât do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. âhey,â he says softly, âjust focus here, angel.â
you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why youâre even riding him in the first place. âjust enjoy yourself, okay,â he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and itâs quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. âgood,â he whispers, âjust like that.â
it doesnât take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever youâve lost.Â
it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when youâre like this.
in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now youâre not worried about anything else. you donât care about anything else right now. you donât have to. you donât want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.
you collapse onto higurumaâs chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. âm sorry it didnât work, angel,â he murmurs.Â
you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. âi left them in the fridge,â you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together.Â
you assume that heâs going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, âwhat? and you didnât tell me until now?â like youâve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. âdonât think this is going to get you out of it,â he says, ââts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while youâre on me.â
you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. âyouâve never told me that before,â you murmur.Â
âthink itâs cute when you just canât wait to tell me things,â he says, âfeels more intimate than being inside of you.â
âew,â you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree.Â
he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, âwait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?âÂ
and you tell him all about it, about the day that youâve had and how you remembered you hadnât drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else⌠and it just keeps going.
you tell him as youâre taking a shower and as youâre eating dinner together and as heâs brushing his teeth and youâre washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but youâll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. âand how was your day?â you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before youâre up early for work tomorrow.Â
nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.
áŻáĄŁđŠ Ęá´É´á´s! É´á´É´á´á´ÉŞ [ É´/á´ ]
âcan i ask you something and when i ask you, youâll know i donât mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?â you ask, putting down your phone only after youâve finished your sentence.Â
you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what youâve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump.Â
nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue⌠questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)
he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. âis that a yes?â you ask.Â
he inhales deeply, âif i say no, will you still ask it?â
you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. âno, i donât think so.â
âthen yes,â he smirks, âi suppose i have to say yes then.â
âgreat,â you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. âdo you ever regret not dating more?â
it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if⌠or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not.Â
now heâs the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, youâre not anxious in the slightest. youâre quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you werenât scared in the first place, âiâve honestly never thought about it since i met you.â
âreally?â you ask, and youâre mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that heâs unintentionally caused with this statement.Â
he nods. âsounds like you have though,â he says, and itâs not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like heâs imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what youâre thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.
âi wouldnât trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,â you start to explain, and itâs nothing but the truth, âbut sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.â
he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, âfirst date nerves,â he nods, ânow that i think about it, i miss those.â
you cock your head at him. thatâs a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, âlike when we went out on our first date and i didnât know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if youâd let me pay for your food.â
âor if iâd take you back to mine,â you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really youâre burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings heâs never mentioned to you before.Â
âyeah, that too,â he laughs, getting back on track, âlike, iâm still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt likeâŚâ
âlike finding out soulmates were real?â you ask, because thatâs what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon heâs describing. he smiles at you warmly, like youâve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. âi know what you mean,â you smile.Â
he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. âshould we go on a first date again?â he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak.Â
you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell heâs not joking. âwhat?â you ask, âwhat do you mean?â youâre already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about.Â
âletâs go on a first date,â he repeats himself. âiâll pick you up at your front door and iâll choose the restaurant and itâll be a surprise and iâll ask you questions that iâd ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.â
youâre smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. âokay, yeah,â you agree.Â
âright, so we probably shouldnât kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?â he teases, and you roll your eyes in response.Â
âyouâre very funny, kento,â you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesnât even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then heâs putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap.Â
ᥣđŠ â˘ď˝ĄęŞŕ§ Ëâ
you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:
>> nami <3 >> howâs work baby
<< read << if you love me youâll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)
>> nami <3 >> fine but thatâs a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????
<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!
>> nami <3 >> google tbh.Â
<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isnât sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(
>> nami <3 >> goodbye.
<< read << :(
>> nami <3 >> i love you
<< read << :)
you bite back the urge to reply with something youâd say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like youâre dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy.Â
arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, youâd go back to somewhere nice youâve already been. but that isnât the case.Â
he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that youâve never even heard of, but is the cutest place youâve ever been, and the entire time he canât stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he wonât stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, âi know i keep mentioning it, and iâm sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, itâd be a never ending string.â
if he keeps this up, youâre going to feel like youâre cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like youâve been in a relationship for over 5 years and youâre also going on a first date and itâs really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop.Â
he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesnât know if heâs just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, heâs hanging on to every word.Â
by the end of the night, youâve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you wonât get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, âyou can try next time too.â and you canât breathe, you feel so lucky.Â
âiâm sorry if this seems forward, but iâd really like to keep seeing you tonight,â you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too.Â
he shakes his head, âperfectly forward,â he smiles, âyour place or mine?â you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. âwhatâs so funny?â he asks, but heâs grinning just as big as you are.Â
âjust thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadnât gone on this first date,â you say, and itâs a little too meta, but heâll let it slide, because heâs a bit flustered at the sentiment. âmine is great,â you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles.Â
everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like heâs seeing âyourâ apartment for the first time. it feels like youâre making out on your couch for the first time.Â
it feels like the first time heâs ever been inside of you.Â
when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend youâre on a first date every single day of your life. you canât stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please donât stop, please never fucking stop.Â
you break character for the second time when youâre right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you canât stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, âkento, baby, please, âm gonna- âm sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,â you whine, and he canât stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back.Â
the way youâve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, itâs not because itâs a first date, itâs because heâs nanami. itâs because heâs orchestrated the entire night and no matter how ânewâ everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety.Â
âiâm sorry that i-,â you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. âokay, okay,â you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. âdone with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,â you murmur.Â
he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. ânever werenât,â he mumbles against your hair. âalways will be,â he mumbles again, holding you tighter.Â
âgood,â you say back, settling into his arms like thatâs the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldnât trade that truth for a million first dates.Â
sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but itâs a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder.Â
⥠Ęá´ĘĘá´É˘s á´É´á´
ÉŞÉ´á´á´Ęá´á´á´ÉŞá´É´s á´á´á´É´ á´Ęá´ á´Ąá´ĘĘá´
⥠no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP
ᥣđŠ á´á´É˘s ᥣđŠ @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto smut#toji smut#gojo smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#higuruma x reader#higuruma x reader smut#higuruma smut#nanami x reader smut#jjk x reader smut#actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie#toriwritesshit
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This Ainât for the Best
Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the otherâs clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every clichĂŠ i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing
Word Count: 5.9k
A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what iâve written. catharsis.
Crashing at Bobbyâs had its benefits.
First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasnât in a motel room.
Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.
Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.
Thatâs how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories weâd told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after weâd come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.
âYou both woke up like an hour ago,â Sam said, unamused.
â6pm somewhere,â Dean and I said in unison.
We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.
âWe should really get going, though, Dean,â Sam stated.
âWhere?â Bobby asked.
âWe were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I donât want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and weâre almost out of beer,â Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.
âThis one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,â Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.
âHey, itâs still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,â I said with a laugh.
They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.
I looked at the bottle in my hand. âI know yâall are all about beer, but I canât help if I prefer something with a little flavor.â
âThatâs not why Iâm looking at you,â he grumbled, fed up with me already. âWhat in the world is goinâ on with you and Dean?â
âHuh?â
He furrowed his brow. âDonât act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.â
âWhatâs new? Weâre both pretty flirtatious in general.â
âNot like this,â he said with a shake of his head. âI donât know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.â
âI am not,â I scoffed. âNothingâs happening, Bobby.â
âIâve known your for five years, now, and Iâve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You canât hide this kind of thing from me.â
âIâm not hiding anything. Iâm an open book.â
Now, he scoffed. âYeah, and Iâm running for president.â
I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.
âIf you keep denying all thisâŚâ
I swallowed, finally resigning. âThereâs nothing to do about it, Bobby.â
âYes, there is. You could tell him.â
âIt wouldnât do any good. You know how he is, he doesnât want to be tied down. If we donât make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesnât get broken.â
He raised a brow. âI do know how he is. For you, heâd make an exception.â
âI donât think so. Besides, itâs all just flirting for him. Doesnât mean anything.â
âAre you blind?â
I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.
âSorry. I justâ I know what Iâm seeing, and I really donât think itâs just a little friendly flirting for him, either,â he said, looking at me again. âI really think you should speak up while youâve got the chance to. We donât often get good things with lives like ours.â
âI know. I just donât want to screw things up.â
âYouâre gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.â
I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.
âWell, letâs find you the next case, huh?â
The next one was an easy find, and it wouldâve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.
âYou what?â Bobby asked, incredulous.
Sam sighed, pouting. âI rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.â
Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.
âSo, no case, then?â I asked.
Bobby perked up. âNo, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.â
âBobbyâŚâ I warned, seeing through him instantly.
âYeah, thatâd be great,â Dean said, cutting off my death stare. âWhen was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?â
I looked at him.
âSeriously, you guys can go without me,â Sam said. âIt might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.â
âI am not,â I defended.
Bobby chuckled. âSure, youâre not. But Iâm not suggesting, Iâm telling you. Get out of my house.â
I glanced at him, offended. âI am a delight.â
âYou are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when youâre antsy.â
Dean laughed. âCome on, itâs only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.â
I took a moment.
âAlright,â I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.
The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldnât figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasnât until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.
âWhat do you think?â Dean asked, leaning in my direction.
I shrugged, looking around the house.
âIt seems⌠clean.â
âI mean, I guess. We havenât found hex bags or EMF readingsââ
âNo,â I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. âLike physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.â
I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.
âClean. Not even dust.â
He raised a brow. âAnd that matters becauseâŚâ
âBecause weâre supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene weâve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time itâs been in the victims house.â
He paused. âYouâve been watching Criminal Minds again, havenât you?â
I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.
âThatâs not important right now,â I shook my head, standing next to him again. âAnd, for the record, itâs helping our case.â
âRight,â he chuckled. âWell, profiler, why donât you tell me more about what youâre gathering from the scene.â
âDonât patronize me,â I said with a laugh.
He smirked, placing a hand on my back.
âLetâs get out of here and figure out why things changed.â
We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.
âCheck this out,â Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. âRemember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dudeâs last social media post.â
I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.
âSame place.â
âSame place,â he confirmed. âWanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?â
âYou sure you donât just want to hit the bar?â
He looked up at me with a quirked brow.
âWhat do you think I am? Drinking on the job. Iâd never,â he feigned innocence.
I snorted. âRight. So not you.â
âLeave in ten?â
âSounds good to me.â
We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Deanâs gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.
We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.
I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.
âNothing,â I said, motioning for us to move further.
He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.
âOh, youâve gotta be freakinâ kidding me,â Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.
âWhat?â
âWell, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?â
I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.
âThatâs notâ well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,â he said, tilting his head.
âItâs a human?â
He nodded. âLooks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. Sheâs passed out now, but letâs get a move on before he starts in on her.â
He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.
âCanâ How do we do this?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âThatâs a human. We canât just chop his head off or exorcise him.â
âWe could still stab him.â
âBut should we?â
He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.
âCan we attempt to justâ Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if itâs necessary.â
He softened. âHe killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?â
âDo you really think the prison system is mercy?â I asked, earning a slight chuckle. âI just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.â
âOkay,â he nodded. âOkay, weâll play it your way. But if anything goes sidewaysââ
âThen you feel free to shoot him.â
He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.
âPlaying house? Really?â Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.
My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.
âYouâre not cops,â he stated.
Dean smirked. âNo, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.â
âNow,â I started, âyou can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure youâre sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.â
Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.
âNice,â I commented, then put away my gun.
I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.
âHey, hey,â I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. âYouâre safe now, alright? Youâre fine.â
Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.
âWhat happened?â she asked with a quivering voice.
âMe and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasnât, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.â
She nodded. âThank you. Both of you.â
I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.
âWhy donât we get you to the couch?â
âYouâre not staying?â she asked, still in shock.
âNo, we gotta leave,â I said, helping her to the couch. âWeâll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.â
âOkay,â she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.
I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.
âWeird to be thanked,â I said, watching the house.
He hummed. âDoesnât happen often, thatâs for sure.â
âI canât believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.â
He snorted. âIâm surprised thereâs not more crossover when we hunt.â
I hummed in agreement. âI also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.â
âWho knows,â he said, shaking his head. âMonsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.â
âYou got that right.â
Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.
âIs that FBI?â Dean asked, looking intently.
âI mean, we just found them a serial killer. Theyâve probably been on high alert,â I said.
He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.
âMan, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,â I commented.
âAlright, thatâs enough,â he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.
He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.
âAt least we arenât covered in monster guts this time,â I said as I fell onto the mattress.
âRight?â He chuckled. âCool if I take the first shower?â
âOf course. Iâll be here.â
He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap weâd been doing certainly didnât help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didnât want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.
âHey,â I heard Deanâs voice call out, his hand on my knee.
I uncovered my eyes. âSorry. Mustâve dozed off.â
He smiled. âGo take a shower.â
âYou sayinâ I need one?â I asked with a quirked brow.
âYeah. Youâre a mess,â he replied, a playful glint in his eye. âI donât know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.â
I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didnât let me get far before he started talking again.
âMovie tonight?â he asked.
I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.
âSure.â
âAny requests?â
âUh,â I started, still looking for a clean top. âMaybe a comedy. We could use something funny.â
âGood point.â He stared for a moment as I kept digging. âYou missing something?â
âI canât find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.â
âDo you want one of mine?â
I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldnât have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, Iâd be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.
âThat would be awesome.â
He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.
âI still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.â
âDid you ever feel rested doing that?â I asked.
He sighed dramatically. I laughed.
âExactly my point,â I said. âMost of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.â
He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I shouldâve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.
He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.
âWhat?â
He shrugged. âFunny seeing you in my shirt.â
âLooks better on me than it ever did on you,â I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.
âCanât argue with that,â he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. âUh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.â
âOh, perfect,â I said as he clicked play.
We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.
âIs it just me, or is it freezing in here?â I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.
âItâs a little cold,â he shrugged, then looked at me. âI can check the heater.â
I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.
âHm. Hang on,â he said, moving to the phone. âHi, I think the heater in hereâs broken.â
A pause.
âAh, great. Okay, thanks.â
He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.
âThey said the heatingâs down in the whole place.â
I sighed. âThat sucks.â
He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.
âI know itâs been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.â
âI know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,â I chuckled.
âSee? Itâll work perfect when youâre cold,â he said, standing again.
He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.
âJust donât complain if I kick you in my sleep,â I said, getting out of my bed.
He chuckled. âIâm not worried about it.â
I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.
This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, Iâd look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.
In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.
âHey,â Dean said, voice soft. âYou okay?â
âMm?â
I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.
âYou always laugh at this scene. You didnât make a sound this time.â
âOh,â I chuckled, looking towards the screen. âSorry, I must be exhausted.â
âIs that all? Seems like thereâs something on your mind.â
âAlright, Dr. Phil,â I joked.
âSeriously,â he said, squeezing my shoulder. âIs everything okay?â
âYeah. I think I just need some sleep,â I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.
He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.
âOkay. You know you can always talk to me?â
âI know.â
He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.
âGoodnight, sweetheart.â
âNight, Dean.â
I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldnât tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.
At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.
He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.
I wondered if he was always like this when I wasnât awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe thatâs why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else heâd said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.
I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.
âMorning,â he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.
I smiled. âMorning.â
âYou hungry?â he asked, drawing my attention to him.
I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.
âVery, and I saw a cafĂŠ on the way into town that looked good,â I said.
He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.
âHowâd you sleep? Warm enough?â
âThanks to you, yeah,â I replied, stretching. âIâm scared to get out of bed, now, though.â
He patted my leg over the covers, âIf you want food, that should be motivation enough.â
âGood point.â
I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.
Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobbyâs in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.
âStill letting that ankle beat your ass?â I asked immediately.
He laughed. âTrust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldnât have been a problem in the first place.â
âMaybe you just wanted out of the hunt,â I said in reply.
âOh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.â
Dean shook his head with a smirk. âYou didnât miss out on much anyway.â
âHowâd it go?â Sam asked as he took a seat.
I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.
âWe stopped a serial killer, actually,â I noted.
Sam gaped. âAnd I âdidnât miss muchâ?â
âJust knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,â Dean shrugged. âOh, we did find maybe the best pancakes Iâve ever had, though.â
I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.
âThey were freaking incredible,â I said, then looked back at Sam. âAnd they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.â
âUnlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,â Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.
âYou two sound like an old married couple,â Sam scoffed out with a laugh. âWhat, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?â
âAfter watching a movie, actually,â Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. âDid you want anything?â
âIâm okay.â
Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.
âYou two actually fell asleep together?â
I rolled my eyes. âThatâs what you choose to focus on?â
He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.
âMaking moves on her, now?â
Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.
âHey, you two. How was the hunt?â
Dean let out a breath. âNot real eventful. I could use some sleep.â
He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.
âDonât look at me,â I said with my hands up in defense. âI think Sammy pissed him off.â
âReal smooth, Sam,â Bobby commented.
Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.
âWhy do I get the feeling you two know something I donât?â
âDid Dean not talk to you?â Sam asked, looking at me.
âWe talk plenty.â
âThatâs not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,â he stopped, then looked at Bobby. âCase came and went, and still nothing.â
Bobby shrugged. âOut of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.â
I sighed in annoyance. âYou two are children, you know that?â
âHey,â Bobby said, offended.
âIâm gonna take a walk,â I said finally, turning for the door.
The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldnât bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.
I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.
âRoom for one more?â Deanâs voice asked from behind me.
âCome on up,â I said, scooting over a bit.
He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.
âTaylor Swift?â
âYou know it,â I replied.
He smiled, turning his head back.
âStars are coming out,â he commented.
âThey are. You shouldâve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.â
He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.
âYou okay, Dean?â I asked after a beat.
âOf course. Why?â
âI dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.â
He sighed. âYeah. Itâsâ Itâs nothing.â
âYou sound like me, now.â
He chuckled. âGuess weâve got the same bad habit, huh?â
âYeah, guess so.â
We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.
âDid you really follow me out here just to look at stars?â
I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.
âThought you could use some company.â
I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.
âAlright, you got me,â he said, âWhat gave it away?â
âFirst off, Iâve known you for years,â I started, nudging him in the arm. âSecond, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.â
âI swear, he canât keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,â he said, rubbing at his face.
âWell, try me,â I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. âIâm a good listener.â
He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.
âI know Iâve got a certain type of reputationââ
âYou?! No way,â I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.
He laughed. âExactly my point.â
âYou know I donât care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.â
He hummed. âYeah. I guess youâre right.â
He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.
âI just,â he started, giving a shrug, âI feel like itâ Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?â
âIt makes people feel that way?â
âIâm that easy to read, huh?â he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. âYou. I mean you.â
âI gathered that much.â
He laughed softly, as did I.
âHowâd you know?â
âI had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.â
His eyes widened. âYou were pretending to be asleep? Thatâs so not fair!â
âHey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didnât exactly want to be up and at âem.â
He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.
âHow long has it been for you?â he asked quietly.
âI donât even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.â
âThatâs embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,â he said with a laugh.
âDean,â I said with surprise. âItâs been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.â
âWell, hey, Sammyâs been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.â
I laughed. âI guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.â
âWhy did you start being extra flirty, anyway?â he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
âI donât know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You havenât been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,â I paused. âThough, finding out youâve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.â
He snorted out a laugh. âEasier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I justâ I never thought in a million years youâd think anything of me.â
âWell, when did you realize I might?â
He sighed. âYou remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily couldâve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I⌠I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when youâre not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didnât doubt in that moment that you wouldâve let me if I had.â
I paused. âWhy didnât you?â
âI was scared. Weâve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didnât want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.â
âYou werenât.â
He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. ThenâŚ
âWe should get back inside. Itâs getting cold out here,â he said quickly.
I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.
I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasnât a sure cesspool of germs I didnât want to think about. I flung the door open.
âSomeone better be dying or Iâm gonna kick some ass forââ
Deanâs lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.
We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.
âI figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,â he said with a nervous chuckle.
I nodded. âYeah. Yeah, good thinking.â
His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.
âYou wouldnât happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?â
âI run cold, what can I say?â I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.
He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.
(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
#i havenât written a spn fic in years this felt good#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#delicate#reputation#taylor swift#gender neutral reader#lunaâs dean fics
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SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)
- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when youâre finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley âroosterâ bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesnât like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, â ď¸ mentions of alcohol / weed)
word count: 2,500
a/n - itâs so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing đ anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.
Bradley Bradshaw likes you. Heâd go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. Heâs never said it, though, not in that way.
When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.
Your first written words were each otherâs names.
Everything snowballed from there, but he couldnât say he was mad at it.
You were so entirely different, but thatâs what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.
He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.
You like him, too. Youâd go as far as to say you love him, if youâre being honest. You mightâve said it if he hadnât been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldnât really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you wouldâve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.
When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.
One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.
Now that youâve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.
You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. âIâm sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like âduckâ.â
He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like heâs afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. âYouâre here? Like actually?â
Youâve barely replied before youâre wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. âGeez, Brad, put me down!â
He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. âSorry, sorry. I just canât believe Iâm seeing your face after all this time.â Youâre even more breathtaking than he remembers.
San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. âYou better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so Iâm here to stay.â
His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. âThank god, I was beginning to think Iâd be stuck here with just my coworkers.â He doesnât even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.
After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: âIâm so sick of the sun.â
Itâs midday, and youâre prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. âIf I wasnât worried about our shit being stolen, Iâd suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.â
You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was âtoo busyâ to help set up. You donât mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, youâd do anything. Youâd even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.
As you work, the sun disappears quickly.
By this point, after over two decades of friendship, youâve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know heâs attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didnât know is that youâre pretty damn attractive too. As youâve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.
So, as the sunâs last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.
The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. Thereâs also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, youâre focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.
Heâs tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you wonât drink much of. Youâve already had a bit too much.
âSo, know anyone here?â He asks. Heâs eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you donât notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.
You pop the can open and take a small sip. âYeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.â You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal whatâs so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.
âI donât. Iâm here for the vibes, yâknow?â He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. âAnd the pretty people.â
You shift in your place. âHave you found what youâre looking for?â Youâre almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe youâre a little drunk, or maybe youâre just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. Itâs one night, you figure. You wonât ever see him again. Whatâs wrong with a little good-natured flirting?
âAbsolutely.â He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shutâ before youâre yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.
You stumble. âWhat the hell?â You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. Itâs Bradley, and he looks furious. âBrad, are you kidding me?â
âCome here.â His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.
âAre you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?â You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.
âIâm not letting you kiss that piece of shit.â
âWho are you to decide who I kiss?â Youâre so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. Youâve let him swap spit with girls youâve never seen before, and now heâs over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?
He scoffs. âYou didnât even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?â
âI was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.â Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Itâs not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people youâve met have never even slyly complimented you. Youâre not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.
âMake out with Bob or Nat, I donât care. At least they wonât undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.â
âYou donât get to decide those thingsâ friends donât get to decide those things. I mean, I didnât throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.â In the back of your mind, you know heâs right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.
Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like heâs regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. âI at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.â
âI reiterate, friends donât get to decide those things.â He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, youâre definitely at least somewhat drunk. Youâd never argue with him like this if you werenât. Youâre also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.
âWhat do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. Iâm just looking out for you.â His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.
He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. Itâs a word unspoken, one thatâs been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume itâs friendly. âDo you really love me if this is what youâre pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.â
âI love you.â He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. âI love you.â He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. Heâs firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.
Thatâs when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. âI think you interrupted us, dude.â
Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, heâs getting decked in the face.
He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. âFuck you, what the fuck! Fuckinâ Navy piece of fucking shit.â You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.
âBradleyâŚâ
âI just want you to be safe.â He mutters, like he didnât just punch someone in the face for you. âI donât care if you donât feel the same way, romantically, but I canât stand seeing you with guys that arenât as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.â
You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.
Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Itâs Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.
Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment heâs been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.
âYou think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?â You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin youâve come to adore.
âEvery part of you is. Thatâs why I love you.â
âI love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.â
âOh,â he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, âyâknow that girl I was talking to?â You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. âThat, my love, is Reubenâs wife.â
You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet âsorryâ at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.
âIs that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?â Bradley whispers in your ear. âThatâs one hell of a way to make me jealous.â
You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. âNot everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.â
He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. Youâre honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.
âYeah, but youâd best believe I do.â
He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. âWill you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?â You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.
âYou really did mean it, huh, Brad?â
âIs that a yes or a no?â
âYes. Itâs a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.â
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Sex with a Ghost
stephen strange x reader words: 11,583 warnings: minors DNI, smut, will they wont they, commitment issues, sex sex sex summary: Stephen and you have a strange relationship. A casual friendship turned into a casual affair. Your heart takes a different turn concerning the superhero. You learn the hard way of his lack of emotional intelligence. a/n: this is an old fic i wrote..... decided to put it on my blog... pls ignore me. im trying to get over benedict i really am...this is 2 years old pls forgive me
His rough long fingers traced your bare skin as your back pressed against his stomach. Your hair was a tangled mess that fell in front of your eyes. A giggle escaped your lips when you felt him pull your hair out of the way so his warm cupid bow lips could find their way beneath your ear. You had just woken up after an⌠eventful night to say the least.Â
You hadnât seen Stephen Strange in a few weeks. You werenât upset or anything. It was your arrangement the pair of you had. One of you had a bad day? You could call them. One of you had one of the best days ever? You would call them. If one of you was incredibly horny⌠well you get the picture.Â
Last night, Stephen hadnât called you for any of those things. You were a bit shocked to hear from him considering the last time you were together ended in an argument. But when you answered the phone he talked to you like nothing had happened. Like he had never told you he never wanted to see you again. You had to bite your lip when he sputtered out that he needed your help.
You were going to tell him to suck a fat one and fuck off, but when he sensed you were about to hang up the phone, âY/n, please.â The begged tone that came out of his mouth made you shiver. It seemed like as soon as you hung up the phone you were at his door. It didnât take long for his problem to be long forgotten and he had you bent over a desk, hands on your hips as he took long thrusts inside of you.Â
You didnât exactly remember how things began between you. You were roommates with Christine in University and introduced the pair to one another. You didnât even have feelings for him until years after they had broken up; however, it was clear the two still had feelings for each other. It was when Stephen came back from the blip that things had been different. Christine had met someone, and they were serious. He had shown up to your apartment, asking you a million questions about Charlie until you had enough of it and kissed the former surgeon to make him shut-up. You found yourself sprawled on your couch with your sundress hiked up and hands clenching Stephen Strangeâs hair as he devoured you.Â
You flipped over so you could look at the dark haired blue eyed man. His hand returned to your torso, his thumb massaged into your skin. âI missed you.âÂ
A lump formed in your throat when he said this. He didnât mean it. He never did or he would make more of an effort to see you. Â You werenât sure how to respond. You had missed him too, but you couldnât help but still feel the wound he left in your heart the last time he saw you. You already felt weak enough that you slept with him.Â
His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed the look on your face. âY/n, about last time-â
You kissed his lips softly. âWe donât need to talk about it.âÂ
âBut you should know-âÂ
âStephen, itâs okay. We donât have to bring it up.â You nipped at the soft spot of his neck. You smirked when you heard a pushed back groan from the back of his throat. You continued to trail nips and kisses down his body. You would occasionally look up to see his reaction but his face was stoic. You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. It didnât matter though, because his hard member told you that he was enjoying it.Â
You climbed on top of the superhero and stretched so that he could get a good view of every curve before him. Stephen bit his lip as his hands trailed up and down your thighs. âY/n.â He begged. You felt him twitch, as he tried not to devour every inch of you.
The sun started to bleed through his curtains. The beams shone on his face, his sharp cheekbones glowed. You couldnât help but be in awe of the magnificent man underneath you. You loved him. Your eyes pricked with tears. Those words infiltrated your head again. It was unwanted like ants at a picnic. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off of him and got out of the bed. âI have to go.âÂ
Stephen was confused. He hoisted himself up with his elbow as he watched you try to find your clothes that were scattered around the room.Â
âYou said last night you didnât have anything to do today. Hence why you stayed over.âÂ
âUm, yeah. I forgot. I have a thing.âÂ
âA thing?â
âYeah.â You groaned. Where the hell was your shirt?Â
âY/n, does this have to do anything with-âÂ
âOh my God, Stephen. Can we please just drop it? I donât want to talk about it.â You snapped.Â
âBut Y/n, you said you love me.âÂ
Right. It wasnât a secret. The last time you were together, you were making coffee for both of you. He made a joke you have forgotten by now, because you only remember the embarrassment of letting those cursed words roll off your tongues as you laughed.Â
He stared at you for a moment before standing up to walk away. You begged him to say something, but he wouldnât. He didnât want to acknowledge it.Â
âWell, you didnât say it back. â Tired of looking for your shirt that youâre certain is now lost in another dimension, you grabbed one of his on the floor. You tried to remember if it was the one he wore last night. âIâll mail it back to you.â
Stephen had crawled out of bed by this time and put his boxers on. He walked towards you while you buttoned the shirt. Stephen grabbed your hands. âY/n, stay.âÂ
You remembered asking him to do the same thing. Tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. You wanted him to stay and talk it out. You had finally had enough and told him that if his lack of response was because of Christine, he needed to get over it. You told him Christine and him were over and she didnât love him anymore.Â
You had never seen Stephen angry before. His nose flared, and his eyes narrowed. He didnât yell, or curse you. He simply said he never wanted to see you again. But his words were like a venomous snake, striking you hard.Â
You realized why had called you tonight. He was lonely and unhappy. What else was there to do than to call the only other lonely unhappy person that he knew. It always had to be him to make the shots.Â
You snatched your hands out of his grasp. âYou know what your problem is, Stephen? Youâre still so far up your own ass even after everything youâve been through. I donât know what was going through my head coming over. I donât know what went through my head being involved with you. All of this has clearly been a mistake.âÂ
âYou think our time together was a mistake? All of it?â Stephen crossed his arms.Â
You pressed the bridge of your nose, unsure what to say. Of course you didnât think it was a mistake. You enjoyed every moment of it, but you couldnât help feeling resentment in his commitment issues. You hated that you allowed yourself to fall in the same trap he set up for Christine. You were a little mouse and he taunted you with cheese, hope and a future, but instead you were trapped and left to die with no rewards.Â
âStephen, I love you.â You couldnât look him in the eyes. You couldnât let him see that vulnerability like the last time you had confessed to him.Â
âI know, but Y/n⌠you know I⌠I canât.âÂ
âIâm not finished. I love you,â you repeated. You looked him in the eyes, and hoped to see that glimmer that maybe he would say it back. He opened his mouth; however, he shut it quickly. âBut I love myself more. I canât keep letting your stunted emotions hold me back.âÂ
You left the room before he could say anything more. You knew he could easily open a portal to catch up to you. He could get on his knees and show you he felt the same, but he didnât. You wanted nothing to do with him ever again.
You went three months without hearing, seeing, or talking about Stephen Strange. You missed him. You thought about him every day and at least once a week⌠okay maybe more⌠you would draft a text message to him that you were thinking about him. You would delete it before the temptation of pressing that send button overtook your stubbornness. He would ignore it like other messages anyway. Always leaving you on read until he was ready to see you again on his time.Â
Saturdays were always a lazy day for you. You hadnât left your bed except to use the restroom. You mindlessly scrolled on different media platforms to waste time and avoid getting up. You jumped when your phone started to buzz and ring in your hand. You furrowed your brows when you saw who it was, but nevertheless answered.Â
You felt a little grouchy that you had agreed to get lunch with Christine on your day you vow not to leave the apartment unless for emergencies. If it werenât for the fact you had barely seen her this year, you would have rain checked.Â
She was at the cafĂŠ first. Her strawberry hair was down in loose curls and she wore a yellow sundress. When she saw you, she smiled and stood up to hug you. Â
âIâm so happy to see you!âÂ
âSame. We havenât done one of these in a while,â you commented. She had already ordered your food, you noticed. You were grateful because you were starving and not sure if you could wait any longer before devouring a sandwich.Â
âBetween the hospital, Charlie⌠and the engagement. I guess Iâve been busy.â Christine took a bite of her pasta salad.Â
âYeah, Itâs been busy for me too⌠wait engagement?â
Christine set down her fork and showed her right hand that you didnât notice had been in her lap the entire time. An elegant diamond ring glimmered on her slender finger. âWeâve been keeping it hushed for a few months now. But since we have a venue and date ready I thought it was time to come clean!â You couldnât help but feel envious. Christine looked so happy, her smile reached from ear to ear. You wondered if you would ever feel that one day. âAlso, I have been trying to find the best time to ask if you would be my Maid of Honor.âÂ
âYou want me?âÂ
âOf course! We wanted a small wedding party, and youâre the first person I could think of. âÂ
The pang of guilt made your chest tighten. You realized all this time you hadnât been honest with Christine. You had been sneaking behind her back with your casual affair. âChristine, Iâm honored. I really am, but I donât think Iâm the right person.âÂ
âYouâve always been there for me, Y/n. I want to celebrate my happy day with you by my side.â
Your eyes made their way to the sandwich on your plate with only one bite. The hunger you felt earlier vanished but you felt it threaten to come up. âI havenât been a good friend.â Your voice was barely above a whisper. If you tried to speak any louder you might croak.Â
âIs this about you and Stephen?â
You snapped your head up eyebrows furrowed. You were confused how she could possibly guess that. âHow?âÂ
âYou didnât think Iâd notice you two sneaking off together at my Christmas party?â She didnât look hurt or angry. Her lips were tugged into a smug look. She had been waiting for this moment to talk about you and Stephen. I guess you werenât the only one holding secrets.Â
âWell, itâs over anyway.â You poked at a pile of sliced pickles on your plate.Â
âThat dumbass.âÂ
âWho said it was his fault?âÂ
âItâs Stephen Strange weâre talking about.â
You two shared a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh. She made you feel like you werenât crazy or clingy or stupid. For the past few months you thought you had been alone. It was a bit narcissistic when you thought about it, because there was one person who understoodâ probably more than you.Â
The next three months you were too busy helping plan Christineâs bridal and bachelorette party that you had no time to think about your love life. You had convinced yourself to forget about the arrogant superheroâ until his name was on the list of invitations.Â
You tried your best to ignore it. You skipped over his name numerous times when stamping and sealing envelopes. You contemplated if you should spray your perfume on the invitation, or add a message. You wanted to do something to make him miss you. Being the bigger person, however, sucked.Â
Christine wanted to do one thing for her bachelorette. Get wasted.Â
She didnât have many other girl friends due to her busy schedule, but she insisted on inviting a few girls from work and her fiancĂŠâs sister. You had to convince her co-worker free booze was involved and they were all in.Â
It didnât take long for everyone to be wasted. They were all middle-aged women and giggling over the dick shaped objects you had bought for the party.Â
âHow big is Charlie?â Cathy, one of Christineâs co-workers asked.Â
âEw, please donât answer that.â Charlieâs sister, Moriah, fake gagged.Â
Everyone burst into laughter while Christine blushed and covered her face.Â
âMy mother always told me, if the shoe doesn't fit just right, donât buy it!â Cathy howled at her joke.Â
âMmm, I bet some of those surgeons at the hospital know exactly how to work their hands.â Another co-worker, Minnie, replied. âSpill the beans Christine, was Dr. Strange as wonderful in bed as everyone assumes?âÂ
You choked on your âCumcoctionâ that you had made out of different alcoholic beverages and juices. You received curious glances as you tried to clean up a few drops on your chin.Â
âI donât think about him and our past anymore.â Christine was trying to be polite and considerate of your feelings. You gave her a look to tell her itâs okay. âBesides he seems to have his hands busy with other things.â
The girls didnât seem to catch on what she was insinuating. âAh, yes. Heâs probably too busy saving the world to be worried about a relationship.â Cathy commented. âI bet he he has a pretty dick, thoughâ
âHe does.âÂ
Everyoneâs eyes snapped towards you. You covered your mouth quickly, as if doing that wouldnât make them suspicious of you. You tried to sputter out excuses that you meant you thought so too. But the girls werenât buying it, and Christine wasnât helping. She was too busy trying not to laugh at your confession.Â
âY/n, are you sleeping with Stephen Strange?â Minnie asked.Â
âNot anymore!â You proclaimed. âWe⌠it wasnât anything serious.âÂ
âYeah, right! Sheâs in love with him.â Christine rolled her eyes.Â
âYouâre okay with it?â Cathy questioned.Â
âWhy wouldnât I be? I donât own either him or Y/n.â
âOkay, girl, then why are we not with him anymore?â The question was directed at you this time.Â
You racked your brain for a reply. But it felt like the words floating around were squiggles that you couldnât decipher. âI⌠weâre different.âÂ
âHow so?â
âThis party is about Christine, we should talk about something else.â You coughed. When no one budged to change the subject you sighed. âIt doesnât matter. He doesnât miss me or anything like that.âÂ
âWhy do you say that?â By this time the alcohol is pumping in your bloodstream you donât even know whoâs the one talking.Â
âHee⌠hasnât texted me to check on meee.â
âGirl, you have to do something to make him realize he misses you. This is your apartment right?âÂ
You nodded.Â
âCome on!â
You believe it was Cathy who led everyone to your bedroom. She asked you where you kept your undergarments. You led her to your dresser and pulled out a drawer. She peeked inside and shook her head. âNo. We need something revealing but not too much.âÂ
âWhat about this?â You asked, picking up a white button up shirt.Â
âThat is the opposite of what I meant.âÂ
You giggled. âItâs his. I stole it.âÂ
Everyone knew immediately what you needed to do.Â
You found yourself laid on your bed in a pair of black bra, panties and Stephenâs shirt. Turns out, Charlieâs sister is a boudoir photographer and was in charge of setting up the scene. She undid most of the top buttonsâ enough to have your bra and breasts exposed. Moriah instructed you to arch your back and put your hands stretched above your head. If there wasnât alcohol in you there would be no way youâd let strangers see you like this.Â
The girls cooed and giggled. Christine kept repeating how hot you looked. You tried to keep a neutral facial expression like Moriah commanded, but it was hard not to blush at the drunken compliments.
When Moriah was done taking the photo she gave you the okay to relax. Your phone got passed around like it was show and tell. They kept squealing at the photo. You werenât sure how a simple photograph could cause such a reaction. There wasnât anything special about you.Â
Minnie handed you the phone with an approved smile plastered on her face.Â
Your eyes widened as soon as you saw the screen. You looked⌠sexy. Your sultry body language made your toes tingle. You looked up at the girls in front of you as they gave you a are-you-going-to-do-it look. You smirked and began to type out a message that you believed was well constructed enough to make Stephen Strange teleport into your room as soon as he saw itâ heâs done it before.Â
There was no need to ask if it was acceptable. After you pressed send you turned your phone to show them. They all gathered around to see that you sent the photo along with the message âIâm trying to give back this shirt to its rightful owner, could you help?âÂ
Their laughter almost covered the sound of your phone ringing. The sudden vibrations in your hand scared you, which caused you to throw it on your bed. âOh my god.â You whispered. It was him. You looked at the girls, begging for help. You realized you werenât being that serious. It was a joke, and now the joke went further than expected because he was responding. âOh my god.â You cried out. You felt like you were going to throw up and it wasnât because of the alcohol.Â
âAnswer it!â Christine encouraged.Â
âWhat would I even say?â You put your hands on top of your head.Â
Christine rolled her eyes, picked up the phone and handed it to you. âStart off by saying hello.â She looked at her friends and motioned her head towards the door to give you privacy.Â
The phone rang again and you felt your lungs rip out of your chest for a moment. Your shaky thumb betrayed you and accepted the call. âH-hello?âÂ
âY/n?â His cool voice made a shiver roll down your spine. You missed his voice, his soothing words that triggered the hairs on your arms to stand up. You missed his fingers when they trailed your goosebumps followed by those sweet kisses.Â
âYeah.â
âEr, I received your text.âÂ
âRight, that silly thing. I was joking.âÂ
âJoking.â He repeated out loud.Â
âYep.âÂ
âWhat a shame I really miss⌠that shirt.âÂ
You let out a breath of air. âI think this shirt misses you too.â Your finger trailed over a loose thread on your comforter. âUnfortunately, you would have to rip it off of me before I gave it up. Iâve grown quite attached to it.âÂ
You smirked when the sound of his breath hitched in his throat.Â
âI can imagine it now. You have one hand wrapped around my neck so you can feel my pulse while the other hand tears the shirt off my naked body. Iâm wet just thinking about it, Stephen.âÂ
âY/n.â It sounded like a warning. If you said anything more he would come undone.Â
âSadly, Iâm preoccupied with other endeavors. I guess the rest of this conversation can be left for the imagination. Talk to you later!âÂ
You heard him call out your name as you removed your phone from your ear. You felt so much power once you hung up. You had hoped he would send a stream of text messages or would try to call again. You even hoped he would be in your room by now, but after about five minutes of silence you came to terms none of those would happen. Disappointed, you got dressed back into your previous clothes and joined the party again.Â
Everyone left about two in the morning. Cathy was so drunk that Minnie volunteered to let the woman stay with her. Christine thanked you for the exciting nightâ it made her feel like they were in University again.
You were practically sober when you closed the door to your apartment, but the inevitable pressure started to push against your skull. Luckily your apartment wasnât that messy. It was nothing you couldnât handle in the morning.Â
You felt tired, but not enough to lay in your bed and go to sleep. You settled on trashy reality while you laid on your couch, an ice pack on your forehead. This was the consequence of drinking a lot tonight when you rarely drink at all. You were surprised you didnât end up like Cathy, stumbling around sputtering nonsense. But you were drunk enough to send a risque photo to your ex-lover who will never love you back.Â
You groaned and sputtered out curses. If you could, you would kick yourself. So much for holding your ground and never talking to him again. You would have to see him next weekend, but it was different because you didnât initiate it and it would be easy to avoid him. If he tried to come towards you it would be just as easy to turn the other way.Â
Another example would be if he were to knock on your door at two-thirty in the morning, it would be easy to slam it in his face. But what if he was standing there, wearing a blue cotton t-shirt with grey sweatpants? His hair disheveled and fell in front of his eyes. He looked like he had been trying to sleep, but couldnât.Â
You should just slam the door. You should, but you didnât.Â
Stephen walked inside your apartment scanning the remnants of the party. âAh.â He said. He seemed to acknowledge what you were doing tonight and there was no need to ask further questions.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â You knew why he was here, and thatâs probably why you closed your door, locking it.Â
âI told you⌠I really missed my shirt.âÂ
You bit your lip. He wasnât looking at you and it was making you mad. You wondered if heâd notice if you started making goofy faces at him. âItâs in my room. I can go get it for you.âÂ
When you came back out of your room, Stephen had made a spot on your couch. He sat upright hands in his lap. The only light came from the TV as the blue tint glowed on him.Â
âDidnât take you as a Kardashian fan.â Stephen called out, unaware of your presence.Â
âIt helps me sleep at night.â
âThatâs what melatoninâŚâ He looked over at you on the other side of the couch. His mouth fell agape. It was like the photo you had sent him came to life before his eyes. âI thought you said you were getting my shirt for me. Not wear it.âÂ
You strutted towards him. His eyes never left yours as you got closer. âI told you Dr. Strange,â you said. You were now in front of him. âYouâll have to tear it off of me if youâre wanting it back.â You wiggled his knees apart and slipped between him. Your fingers ran through his unkempt dark locks. You were always fascinated with the silver streak and found yourself twirling it around your finger.
His hands stayed on his thighs. They hadnât budged at all as if he was forcing them down with weights.Â
âYouâre not touching me.â You stated. Your left hand left his hair and came to his cheek. âWhy?âÂ
âIâm only granting your wishes.âÂ
âMy wishes?âÂ
âYou said this was over.â
You smirked and leaned over to his ear. âStephen, if you were granting my wishes you wouldnât have answered the phone.â You looked into his icy eyes polluted by darkness. âYou can tell me to stop.â He wouldnât tell you to. Thatâs why he let your fingers trail to his lips. Your thumb grazed from top to bottom, allowing you to have an opening to place your own lips on his.Â
Hot breaths exchanged between you like you both were trying to suck the oxygen out of one another. You needed to take a breath of airâ as if you had been underwater and gasped for life. The only thing that told you were alive was the sound of your heart beating out of your chest and the blood pumping in your veins.Â
You stole another deep kiss, nipping his bottom lip. He hissed, but you quickly shut him up by putting your thumb in his mouth letting his tongue graze the digit. Your other fingers placed underneath his jaw as you pressed down to open his mouth.Â
You had never really taken control like this before. It had always been him bending you over, making you whimper, making you beg for him.Â
He still refused to touch you. It was pissing you off, but you refused to say anything. Instead, you pushed his hands away and sat in his lap. You bucked your hip to force a soft moan to escape his lips.Â
He shifted, allowing you to feel the hardness through his sweats. He placed his hands on your hips to pull you closer allowing more friction between him and you, the pressure relieving the ache trapped beneath. He grabbed the back of your neck to bring you into a passionate kiss. His other hand found itself wandering underneath your â hisâ shirt. That damn shirt.Â
He had had enough. He picked you up slightly and threw you on the couch. He climbed on top of you, hungry kisses attacked your lips. You pushed the hem of his shirt up to help him take it off, throwing it on the ground. He came back down and started kissing your jaw down to your neck, nipping and sucking pink blooms all over.
You placed your hand on his chest. You loved the feeling of his muscles under your touch. You felt him shudder as they trailed down his body to the hem of his sweatpants. However he was quick to dodge her eager fingers from exploring further. âPatience.â He growled.Â
âI havenât been with you in months, can you blame me?âÂ
âAnd whose fault is that?âÂ
You had to bite your tongue. You were too incredibly horny to try to argue with him. He slid down, eyes never breaking yours as he pushed your thighs apart. His eyes broke away from yours and he was now focused on what he could see between your legs. You had gone ahead to do away with anything else besides his shirt. He wanted to say something witty, but he used his sharp tongue to lick you instead. A small quiet moan left your lips, making him work faster. You instinctively grabbed the first thing you could think of as you embraced the jolts of pleasure pumping through your body which was Stephenâs hair. He spread your legs a bit further to get a better angle. His tongue pressed a spot that made you gasp and back arch. If he went any longer you might not make it so you tugged his hair, a silent instruction to come back to you.Â
He licked his lips that tasted only of you. You wanted him to come back and kiss you but instead he got off of you and the couche. You frowned and thought maybe he was done and wanted to leave. He realized it was another mistake that they were together again after months of silence. But rather than collecting his things, Stephen began to remove his sweatpants, throwing them to the designated clothes pile. Your eyes were wide when you discovered he was not wearing anything under his clothes either. He knew this would happen. Smartass.Â
He returned on top of you. He looked at the shirt covering you. His impatient fingers began to pick at the buttons to free your body. He struggled to get them undone, a small vein popped at the top of his forehead from frustration.Â
âHere let me help.â You offered, bringing your hands towards the buttons.Â
Stephen pushed them away and hooked his fingers between the gaps, pulling the fabric. A few buttons flew across the room, but neither one of you cared. He began kissing your inner thigh, up your leg, your stomach. He relished the sight of your bare breasts before he took one in his mouth while the other was being massaged. The blue tones from the TV cast shadows on his face, exaggerating his cheekbones.Â
âStephen, I need you.â Your voice was shaky. It felt like you had forgotten how to speak.Â
He looked up at you to see the plea in your eyes. Sitting up on his knees, he took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. You adjusted yourself to help him find your entrance. You moaned in unison as he entered inside of you, your walls welcoming him as they pulsated like a heartbeat. It was a mixture of relief and pleasure as he took long slow thrusts inside of you. He wanted your body to crave the feeling until it begged for more.Â
Stephen placed his chest flush against your breasts. One hand rested on your hip as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder, his warm breaths tickled your bare skin. His pace began to pick up a low groan rattled in his throat that sent tiny vibrations into you. He slid out of you almost completely then sank back inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out in satisfaction.Â
âStephen,â you called out. Your nails dug into his back.Â
He moved his lips to your neck, running his tongue over your pulse as he buried himself inside you again. Each thrust harder and faster than the last, sending waves of electricity through your core and nerves. You closed your eyes, the pleasure seemed almost unbearable. You felt the heat in your core begin to bubble like a teapot boiling water, the steam begging to be released. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. His hips snapped forward granting your bodyâs needs.
 âFuck.â He groaned.Â
His voice melted into you, pushing your climax over the edge. Heat pulsated through you hot, burning, blazing, tearing through you. Your walls hugged him as you released. âKeep going.â You sighed.Â
He continued unrelentless thrusts in you. The only words exchanged were whimpers and grunts between stolen kisses as you felt him twitch. He drove himself into you, a final growl escaped his lips, releasing his climax.Â
His pace steadied to a halt, his forehead on top of yours. You still felt him inside you, but neither of you moved. You studied each otherâs breaths and how they once were erratic. Now, they were steady and back to normal, as if neither one of you were crying out in pleasure just moments ago.Â
Every time you were with him you never knew if it would be the last. Each time you told yourself youâd relish and savour every touch, but like tonight, you got carried away. You brushed your fingers through his hair, scared he would disappear if you blinked. You knew nothing had changed, but maybe you were attempting to make a relationship out of nothing. Maybe this was all youâd have with him, and you needed to accept that.
The past few days felt odd. At work, Stephen would text you, asking if you wanted to get lunch or dinner. You didnât mind, it wasnât unusual for him to invite you out to eat; however, it had never been a daily occurrence. You didnât want to question it so you accepted every time, not caring about his intentions. It was a bonus that a majority of the meals were free because the staff would recognize him as Dr. Strange, the superhero who helped defeat Thanos.Â
What was even weirder was when he came to your work after you got off to walk you home. If you had already ate lunch, he would fuck you as soon as you got to your apartment, and if you had dinner plans he would fuck you before and fucked you after. You donât recall having that much sex in a week but Stephen found a way to break your personal record. Not that you were complaining about the sex either.Â
No, the sex was amazing as always, and the food delicious, but every day you couldnât help but feel sick to your stomach. He would stay over at your apartment. You swore he put his toothbrush in your bathroom the second night. It was all you ever wanted out of him, a domestic relationship. But why did you feel unfulfilled every time you looked over at him sleeping peacefully in your bed?Â
It was Thursday, two days before the wedding, tomorrow being the rehearsal dinner. You managed to decline lunch with Stephen, begging Christine to meet with you. You hadnât seen her since the bachelorette party. You couldnât make the next two days about you, but you needed advice.Â
Christineâs schedule was busy to help tie up work at the hospital before her week-long honeymoon. She asked if you could have lunch at the hospital and if you hadnât been under desperate measures you would have said never mind.
âIâm so happy you asked to meet. I needed a chance to catch my breath.â Christine told you, taking a sip of her tea.Â
âBeen a busy day, I guess?âÂ
âWorking my ass off this week and the future in-laws are in town. I donât think Iâve been able to relax or have fun on the week of my wedding.â She raised an eyebrow. âYou on the other hand⌠look like youâve been having fun.â
âWhat?â You asked.Â
She scoffed, reaching over the table and pulling the collar of your shirt so it could reveal a bruised love bite. âI do hope you plan on covering that for Saturday.âÂ
You brushed her hand away, embarrassed. âI guess Iâve been a little carried away⌠this week.âÂ
âWait, all week?âÂ
You put your face in your hands in shame. âEvery. Single. Day. But itâs not the sex thatâs bothering me. Heâs treating me like weâre in a relationship.âÂ
âWhatâs wrong with that?âÂ
âChristine, weâre talking about Stephen Strange here. He doesnât do relationships.â
âWell you donât do just sex. Y/n, youâre in love with him and heâs using that to his advantage.â
You wanted to snap at her, because it was her who started this mess. If Christine hadnât gotten her friends involved in your love life, then maybe that photo would had never been taken and then maybe he wouldnât have come over and had sex with you on the couch and on the kitchen counter and the shower⌠it was definitely Christineâs fault. But then again, Christine knew Stephen maybe better than you did. You were only his booty call whenever something was bothering him. Except, you didnât know anything that might be bothering him besides maybe your love confession. Your brain was hurting trying to figure it all out.Â
âI canât wait for this wedding to be over. I didnât think monster-in-law was a real thing.â Christine said out loud, scrolling on her phone.Â
Then it clicked. No wonder Stephen was acting like it was the end of the world.Â
After your lunch with Christine you went back to work, but you couldnât focus on anything. You had finished your reports earlier this week since you would have tomorrow off. Time seemed to drag. Every time you looked at the clock on your computer nothing seemed to change.Â
You had two hours left of your shift before asking your boss if you could leave early. He wasnât strict or high maintenance if you did your job right, and you always did. So, he had no issue with you leaving for the rest of the day. You were certain he probably wouldnât notice you were gone tomorrow.Â
You always felt nervous arriving at the sanctum, especially since it seemed like Wong was the one who always greeted you when you walked in.Â
He always gave an all too knowing look when he would tell Stephen he had a guest.Â
âSurprised to see you, Y/n.â Wong said as he walked through a portal, carrying a box.Â
âReally?âÂ
âNo. Strange, your girlfriendâs here!â Wong set the box down and walked back into the portal.Â
âHeâs not my boyfri-â
A voice interrupted you. âY/n, I was just getting ready to come pick you up.âÂ
You didnât question that he hadnât corrected Wong. But you did raise an eyebrow. âTwo hours early? I thought you just opened your portal thingy right before I got off.âÂ
âHe does, it just takes him two hours to pick out an outfit.â Wong said, bringing in another box, grunting as he set it down. âYou know, it wouldnât hurt to help.â He looked at Stephen, who rolled his eyes in return.Â
âYouâre the Sorcerer Supreme. Not my job.âÂ
You giggled. Wong and him always had to make jabs at one another when it came to the subject of Sorcerer Supreme. That was actually one of the many reasons Stephen would call you upset. Which reminded you why you were there. âStephen, could we talk?âÂ
âYes, of course. Want to talk over dinner? Iâm starving. I know a great restaurant about two blocks from here.âÂ
âActually, I was thinking we could talk somewhere⌠private.â You bit your lip.Â
âReally? Strange, Iâd rather not hear you and your girlfriend talk about engaging in coitus while Iâm here.âÂ
âHeâs not my boyfri-â
âI donât think thatâs what she meant, Wong.â Stephen moved his hands in a circle. There were a few sparks as he opened a portal. He held out his hand for you to take. You waved goodbye to Wong as the two of you walked through. You took in the salty air as Stephen closed the portal so it was just the two of you. He had brought you to a secluded beach. There seemed to not be any sign of inhabitants within miles. âWhere are we?â
âA deserted island. One of my favorite places to come when I need to think.âÂ
You looked at the man beside you. Most of the time he was arrogant and unbearable to be around, and thatâs probably why you enjoyed his mouth being preoccupied elsewhere. But there were moments he shared with you that maybe you could find hope being with him.Â
You took off your shoes so your feet could sink in the sand, it was also much easier to walk alongside him.
âSo, what was so important that you took work off early?â He asked.Â
You felt your words lose their way when you tried to speak. âI⌠um⌠I think we should stop. For real this time.âÂ
He didnât budge, nor was there a change in his expression.Â
âYouâre not going to say anything?âÂ
âWhat is there to say, Y/n?âÂ
âI donât know. Just something.â Your voice was soft, covered by the sounds of waves crashing the sand bank.Â
âWeâve done this a thousand times, Y/n. One of us tells the other weâre done, but the next day weâre back to how we were.âÂ
âWell, Iâm tired of feeling trapped in that cycle. This week, I thought I finally made a breakthrough. But I realized nothing was different. I realized you were using me like you had before. Youâre sad, Stephen. Youâre sad that Christine is getting married on Saturday, and youâre trying to use my emotions as your outlet to avoid it. I always thought if I begged for you, and I had more sex with you, then maybe you would see how much I truly love you and you would give it back to me.âÂ
He finally stopped walking so he could look at you. You tried your best to not look him in the eyes. You knew if you saw his reaction, you would cry. âY/nâŚâ He tried to speak but words failed to come out.Â
âIâm done feeling like I need you to make me happy.â You felt your words choke on the sob rolling up your throat. âI donât think Iâll ever make you happy.â
âIâm not sure how to respond.â Stephen admitted. His hands were at sides, you could see them twitch as if he wanted to do something but restrained himself.Â
You wiped a tear that finally escaped, turning your back to him you were unable to face him any longer. âJust take me home.âÂ
He let out a heavy sigh before a portal to your living room opened in front of you. Without another word or glancing back at him, you stepped through. In all honesty, you wanted to turn around and ask him to forget everything you had just said. But you couldnât fall back into the pattern. You needed to break it for both of you. Turning your body slightly, you watched as the portal closed, a few sparks were left until it became nothing, and you were staring at your mundane apartment once again as if nothing had been there.Â
You debated on telling Christine you had a stomach bug and you couldnât do the wedding anymore. The thought of seeing Stephen on Saturday made you want to throw up. You knew you couldnât let her down. So, at the wedding rehearsal, you made sure to leave all of your problems at the doorâ these past two days were not about you. You did pretty good avoiding all of your issues, grateful that Moriah didnât acknowledge the other night when she spoke to you.Â
The wedding on the other hand⌠you knew he would be there. You had mentally prepared yourself when you would inevitably see him. When it was your cue to walk down the aisle, the best man arm linked with yours, your eyes immediately scanned the many guests. Although it was the back of their heads you could identify his silver streak. You gulped as you passed him, feeling his eyes bore the back of your head.Â
As soon as you took your place, the pianist began to play Christineâs entrance. Everyone stood and turned to look at her as she walked in. Your focus was on her and you couldnât help but let the anxiety wash away with happiness, watching your closest friend look extraordinarily beautiful. You noticed Charlie, tearing up as the two looked at each. To them, they were the only people in the room. Your eyes flickered to Stephen as Christine made her way past him; however, he only looked at her momentarily with a half-hearted smile before looking back in your direction. You pretended not to notice, but the heat on your cheeks told you otherwise.Â
This went on the entire ceremony. You could feel his gaze on you, watching every single thing you did. Every breath you took his eyes were on the rise and fall of your chest to your slightly opened lips you occasionally licked. You wished you had your own superhero power like mind control, then you could tell him to fuck off.Â
You made sure not to make eye-contact with him as you followed Christine and Charlie after they kissed and ran down the aisle. You swore you could hear Stephen whisper your name, yet, you refused to turn your head.Â
At the reception you saw multiple times he attempted to approach you but by the grace of God, someone would jump in front of him to bombard you with questions about the wedding. It seemed being on your feet constantly was the only thing you were able to do. One point you snuck off to a secluded hallway, a glass of wine in your hand and sat down on a red cushioned window seat. A long sigh escaped you looking out at the city through the window. Passersby made their way past the building. None of them knew they walked by two people who vowed their love to one another. None of them knew how happy you were for your best friend. Yet, you couldnât help feel the tight pang in your chest that held the feeling of jealousy and yearning. They were blurred together where it was hard to distinguish which one was which.Â
The room temperature wine tickled your tongue. The bittersweet liquid always made you pucker your lips the first sip.Â
You had just finished your maid of honor speech about Christine. It had been the most difficult part of the entire wedding in your opinion. Trying to write about a subject you werenât exactly a professional in made it hard to come up with words. Sure you knew how to love, but when writing you realized you never knew what it felt to be loved. You saw the way Christine tucked her hair behind her ear whenever she shyly spoke about Charlie. But there was a different reaction when he did something romantic or said something sweet. The twinkle in Christineâs eyes sparkled bright.Â
You looked at yourself in the reflection of the glass. You tried to imagine anybody treating you that wayâ you tried to imagine Stephen. You hated to admit that him staring at you the entire wedding made your heart skip a beat in your chest. You guessed it wouldnât have been that terrible if he had come over and talked to you. There was nothing said to him that the two of you couldnât be friends⌠right? You took another sip. Time to go back to reality.Â
The band started playing a slow song once you entered the reception hall. Couples, including Christine and Charlie, were dancing. Heads placed on shoulders as they swayed to the tranquil music. You told yourself not to do it but your eyes betrayed you as you searched for him. It didnât take long to find the tall superhero standing near the balcony, his own eyes scanning the crowd. Your heart stopped beating momentarily when his blue irises locked with yours. You said curses under your breath when he began walking in your direction. You turned sideways to pretend like you definitely had not just eye-fucked him and downed the rest of your wine.Â
âY/n.â His voice was loud and clear beside you, but he still managed to say it low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.Â
You turned to face him. âStephen. I didnât know you were still here.â He gave you an unimpressed look because you both knew you were lying; however, he didnât correct you. âBeautiful wedding, wasnât it?âÂ
His eyes drifted down and looked over at the newlyweds before focusing back on you. âYeah, it was. Iâm glad sheâs happy,âÂ
âAre you happy?â The words came out of your mouth unexpectedly. You wished your wine glass wasnât empty.Â
Stephenâs lips pursed. âChristine asked me the same question.â
âWell, what did you say?â
âDance with me.â He blurted.Â
His hand reached towards you but you pulled away from him. âYou didnât answer my question.âÂ
âI didnât have an answer.â He reached for you again, this time succeeding in taking your free hand. You felt the tingles of electricity move through your fingers, much like the first time you had held hands after a month of seeing each other. You subconsciously grazed your thumb over the scars on his knuckles. You remembered when he winced the first time you touched them, but now it was one of his favorite things you did to him. Stephen leaned over. His lips nearly touched your ear. âDance with me, and Iâll have an answer.âÂ
You shook your head, slipping your hand from his. âYou know I canât.âÂ
âY/n IâŚâ Before he could continue a loud crash came from outside the building. A few people noticed and ran towards the balcony to see the commotion of screams. Stephen looked at you with an apologetic look before running that way himself. You watched as he leaned over the rails. His shoulders dropped from a long sigh. Without hesitation, he swiped his hand in the air changing into his infamous Doctor Strange attire. You swore his cape gave you a small wave before Stephen flew over the ledge.Â
You probably had the worst date of your entire life. You were going to kill Christine once she came back from her honeymoon next week. Who even takes a three week long honeymoon? I guess someone who rarely gets a vacation. You needed a vacation after the events of tonight, that's for sure.Â
Before the wedding was over, Christine pulled you aside and demanded you tell her what was wrong after watching your interaction with Stephen. She noticed something was up since the rehearsal.Â
You tried to tell her not to worry about it, but she insisted. So you told her you made a declaration not to see Stephen Strange in any intimate setting ever again. Christine seemed upset, the first time you had seen her frown on her wedding day. A pang of guilt crept inside. That was precisely why you didnât want to talk about it with her.Â
âY/n, I wish you saw the way he looks at you. Heâs holding it back. He just needs a little push.âÂ
You bit your bottom lip, trying to prevent any tears. âIâm tired of carrying all the weight of pushing.âÂ
Christine gave you a sympathetic smile. Her hand placed on your shoulder. âIâm proud of you. You deserve only the best.âÂ
Apparently the best was Charlie's semi-attractive second cousin, Simon. You shuddered thinking about him. For one, he was twenty-three minutes and twelve seconds late to the movieâ which you paid for everything. After the movie you went to a cafĂŠ and the entire time he talked. It wasnât a bad thing, but you believe the only thing you were able to get out was how your day had been. Then his phone rang and rang and rang until you finally told him to answer it. Turns out, Charlieâs second cousin, Simon, is going through a divorce. Yet, heâs still sleeping with his future ex-wife. Information you had wished Christine had told you before you wasted five hours of your Saturday.Â
You debated on taking Cathyâs advice last Tuesday when you had lunch with her and Minnie. âGirl, get Tinder!âÂ
Youâve had it before, and you had plenty of suitors, but there was always that queasy feeling of not knowing anyoneâs true intentions. For nearly a year youâve felt like an object of sexual desires and relief. All you wished for was something real. As pathetic as it sounded, you wanted a boyfriend. You wanted someone who would greet you with a kiss. Someone who would hold your hand as you walked down the street as you pointed at ridiculously priced objects in stores that you would buy if you were a millionaire. You wanted someone who would take you to gatherings with friends and let you sit on their lap as you talked. You wanted someone who would talk about the possibility of marriage and kids while sitting in your sunshine mimosa bubble bath. You wanted it all. Worst of all, you wanted it with Stephen Strange.Â
You groaned at the large thunderclap followed by the pitter patter of rain splashing on you. Passersby put up their umbrellas. Guess you should look at the radar more often. Damn the New York mentality that itâs not far of a walk instead of taking a cab. The rain started to pick up and it was difficult to see.Â
By the time you made it to your apartment, you were drenched head to toe. Your clothes clung to your body uncomfortably. A nice hot bubble bath sounded amazing. As soon as you closed and locked your front door you started to kick shoes off. You unbuttoned your blue jean shorts so you could shimmy out of them. You barely got the zipper down when you realized a figure stood outside your balcony.Â
At first you were scared and ducked behind your couch to call 911, but the longer you looked at the person, the more you recognized them. Stephen slouched over the railing. A charcoal gray shirt clung to his body along with dark navy blue trousers. If it had been any other person you would yell at them to get out, yet you found yourself joining him outside, leaning over the railing and avoiding eye contact. You were thankful the rain was blocked from the awning above you.Â
âI heard how you saved the world, once again.â You bit your bottom lip, chewing it lightly.Â
He grunted. âI wouldnât really call it that.âÂ
âThen what would you call it?â You turned your head so you could see him. His hair was slicked back and face clean shaven. It kind of made you upset he didnât look like shit. Maybe he didnât miss you as much as you missed him.Â
His eyes didnât meet yours as he looked off. âItâs my job.âÂ
âOne hell of a job, then. Do you get health insurance? Is there an underground superhero hospital?âÂ
Stephen let out a laugh. A real laugh that formed in the pit of his belly all the way up. He turned to you, leaning on his left arm against the railing. You couldnât help your eyes that flickered to a sliver of his exposed skin as his shirt rode up. âYes, I passed Thor Odinson getting a colonoscopy.âÂ
You snorted. âDo you miss it?âÂ
âMiss what?â His furrowed eyebrows unwrinkled when he realized what you meant. He glanced down at his right hand. âItâs always hard to let go of something you love.âÂ
You didnât answer him but you agreed.
âI guess thatâs why itâs difficult to let go of you, Y/n.â His statement was casual and smooth like honey. You scoffed, turned away from him and shook your head to face him again.Â
There was no hesitation as he looked you in the eyes, a serious look painted his face. Did he get closer? Or have your bodies only been inches apart this entire time? There was hope he wasnât able to hear your heart pounding against your chest as if it were trying to escape your chest. âThatâs not funny.â The words came out barely a whisper.Â
He tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. âI didnât tell you a joke.âÂ
âI think itâs time for you to go home, Stephen.â The prank he was trying to pull was the lowest of lows. He has used you for months and now he was trying to make awful attempts to toy with you. You wondered if he was a sociopath with no consideration of how his actions made you feel. Or maybe he was a psychopath and knew, and got off on it. Either way, you made a promise to yourself that you didnât intend on breaking.Â
âWe have a kid.â This man sounded insane. You should probably run inside and block him from everything, but then again, heâs battled aliens. Him saying you have a child with him was not the craziest phrase that has come out of his mouth. âTechnically two. A boy and girl. Also, technically in another multiverse.â He shrugged.Â
âYou really are testing the waters.â You turned around to go in. âJust go home. I donât want to hear it.âÂ
âTheir names are Adalina and Ben.â He called after you. Stopping dead in your tracks, hand hovering the doorknob you took a sharp breath in. There had only been one conversation about children between the two of you. It only contained two sentences. In one sentence you asked if he wanted to have children, and the second sentence he answered no. The subject was dropped and never brought up again, until now. So how the hell did Stephen Strange know two names youâve always wanted to give your children if you had any? Turning around, you crossed your arms across your chest. Your face told him to continue but he was on thin ice.Â
âI became a surgeon because I believed I loved saving people. But, an old friend of mine made me realize I never wanted to save them in good heart. I loved having life at the control of my fingertips and every move I made manipulated it into the outcome I wanted.
âIt was easy because those people were only part of a game to me. It didnât matter if they lived or died because it only meant I got better at my job. In a way itâs the same with having super powers. But, if I cared enough about a person⌠if I love them. What would I do if they were gone forever? I canât stop death and it terrifies me. It terrifies me if I lose you, especially since Iâm in love with you, Y/n.âÂ
A tear rolled down your cheek. Never in your time youâve known him have you been able to crack his surface. There were a million questions racking your brain. âThereâs another me in another universe?âÂ
He nodded. âEvery single other me has made the mistake of not recognizing your value. I came here tonight, Y/n, to tell you that I need you.â His voice cracked. He stepped closer to you. âI wasnât sure what loving someone felt like. How could I love when I donât feel worthy of it myself? Yet, when Iâm away from you my heart stops.â There was only enough room to put a ruler between the two of you⌠one of those bendy rulers you used to beg your mom to buy for school.Â
âWhat does your heart do when Iâm around?â You asked, batting your eyes ever so innocently.Â
Stephen softly grabbed your hand, pulling you closer. He placed it on top of his chest. His heart greeted you as it thumped rapidly against his chest. âIâve tried to ignore that for a year. Iâm sorry.â He whispered.Â
You slid your hand from his chest to his cheek, placing your lips tenderly onto his, letting him know you forgave him.Â
âI love you.â He muttered onto your lips. It tingled like those words were laced with electricity and shocked you. He placed his hand at the back of your neck and pulled you into a long fervent kiss. Both your hands explored their way to his hair, which you tangled around your fingers, messing it up. Lightly tugging, he released a moan from the back of his throat. You bucked your hips, feeling the hard member forming. Quick feverish kisses trailed the side of your face to the nape of your neck. âYouâre wet.âÂ
âNot yet, but Iâm getting there.â You groaned.Â
He chuckled. âNo, I meant your clothes are drenched.âÂ
âOh, right. I was going to changeâŚâ You tried to finish your sentence but he had pushed you against the door, his leg between your thighs allowing it to rub the right spot. His hand slipped under your drenched shirt and grabbed your breast, a gasp escaped your lips.
âI need you, Y/n.â He sighed.Â
âOut here?â You moaned as his teeth latched your exposed collar bone, sprouting a rosy bloom.
âWeâve done it everywhere else, why not?âÂ
You rolled your eyes in disbelief. âYou just proclaimed your love to me and now you believe you can show it to me on the balcony⌠where my neighbors could see us? Not exactly romantic.âÂ
âI plan on a lifetime of showing you.â He took both of his hands to your ass and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips meeting once again. âBut now, I need you right now.â With one arm wrapped around you, Stephen pulled your shirt off. He carried you to a reclining deck chair you had out there where he sat down so you could straddle him. Fortunately, the chair was all the way down from the last time you laid on it.Â
Between kisses, you helped him take off his shirt. New fresh cuts were formed on his chest. You assumed it was from his recent adventure. He let you examine the wounds, carefully running your fingers over them. Your hand fell down and began palming him. In the meantime, Stephen leaned forward to nuzzle his face in your neck. His heavy hot breaths tickled you, giving you goosebumps. He unclasped your bra sometime because his fingers pinched your nipple. âTake your pants off.â The order came unexpectedly from you, nevertheless, you moved out of the way so you could help him pull his pants down and discard them. You frowned that he had decided to wear underwear this time. No time to pout. Your hands rushed to the waistband of his underwear. Stephen moved back out of your reach. âWhy do you always do that?âÂ
âWhy are you always impatient?â
âUsually guys donât refuse blowjobs from me.â You crossed your arms to sulk.Â
He ran his fingers through his hair. âMy dear, only if you could imagine what you do to me.â
âI could say the same to you.âÂ
âYes, but thereâs a major difference between the two of us.â He began unbuttoning your shorts, shimmying them down your legs so you stood in your purple lace panties. He looked up at you, licking his lips. âYou are able to come undone.â He thumbed you through the fabric, smiling as you let out a sharp breath. âAnd undoneâŚâ He leaned over to kiss your hip while still massaging you. âYour pretty mouth around me wouldnât let me last twenty seconds.â
You reached for his boxers again. âThen give me nineteen.â
He allowed you to pull them off, springing free, throbbing at the sight of you. You gripped his bare thighs to allow your body to kneel in front of him. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he watched you grab his base, twitching under your fingers. Your lips tenderly kissed his shaft making your mouth to the head, carefully popping it in. Stephen hissed as your head bobbed up and down taking him in and out. Your mouth, hand and tongue worked together to explore every inch of him. By reflex, he bucked his hips from the relief, making him push further into your mouth. His hand gripped your shoulder, most likely will leave a mark for tomorrow. You took as much of him in as you could until you couldnât breathe. Looking up, you saw his head thrown back as if he was begging God for mercy. Low rich moans escaped his cupid bow lips. They looked delicious.Â
You released him from your mouth. He looked down to see why the sudden lack of warmth. However, he didnât have to ask since your lips that were once around him now attacked his own in a deep heated kiss. He slowly pulled you down on top of him. âThat was only seventeen seconds.âÂ
âDidnât realize you were keeping count.â His fingers curled the band of your panties, helping you slip out of them. You straddled him, grinding your hips to revel in the satisfaction as you caused friction to your swollen clit. âDonât worry, I plan on making up for the lost time.â You both knew you didnât mean the two seconds.Â
You reached down to grab him, guiding it to your entrance. From your soaking core and the slick salvia still on him, you slid onto his length with ease. Groans slipped both of your lips as you lifted yourself up and sank back down. Many times before, youâve wanted to savour every thrust, kiss, touch. It always felt like there was no promise you two would be flush together the next day. This time, however, felt much different. Knowing he loves you sent a thrill of electricity into your core as you two worked together to bury himself as far as possible inside you. He pulled you in, leading a kiss with his tongue, sliding it in your open mouth. His moans as you ground your hips vibrated your body, digging your nails into his chest as you pushed yourself up to change the angle.Â
Stephen propped himself up with his right hand and ran his hand up your thigh so he could grab hold of your hip. âWhy were you dressed so nice today?âÂ
You angled forwardâ a small cry came from both of you. âDoes it matter?â He narrowed his eyes, bucking his hips so he could hit the right spot when he thrusted into you. You whined when he slowed his pace, punishing you for not telling him what you did today. âI went⌠on a date. Donât give me that look. It was terrible. He didnât even buy dessert.âÂ
Stephen rolled his eyes, palming your breast as he picked the rhythm back to the way it was before. âI can get you dessert after this if you want.âÂ
âAre you really asking me on a date while inside of me?â He started to hit that spot again. Your eyes began to water as the overwhelming currents of pleasure and relief pumped through you.Â
âIs that not what boyfriends do?â He was being arrogant, a smug look on his face that you wanted to smack off of him.Â
âSince when did you become my boyfriend?â He directed you to turn around, and so you did. The new angle and direction gave him access to hit the spot in a new way.Â
His arm wrapped around your chest and cupped your breast. You guided his other hand to rub the sensitive area between your folds. Your moans became louder. âWhen you became my girlfriend.âÂ
You were glad you faced away from him so he couldnât see your bashful face. Yet, it didnât matter, because he knew. He let out a small chuckle and placed a tender kiss on your shoulder. You reached behind to place your hand on his head, leaning your own in his neck. Your throat now exposed and vulnerable he nipped and licked a tender spot, over and over until you sighed his name. âYân, IâmâŚâ His moans sounded agonizing. If he didnât release himself now, he would die.Â
You bit your lip, picking yourself and dropping onto him. âFuck, Y/n.â He muttered into your ear.
Your walls tightened against him, you couldnât take it anymore. âOh my godâŚâ One last thrust and your core swelled like a balloon and popped all over him. Your head fell further back as you cried out from the heated pressure you released. You panted as you felt him twitch, filling himself inside you.Â
Stephen slipped out of you, but continued to hold your bare body, placing kisses up and down your arm. âI know a great frozen yogurt place a few blocks away.âÂ
âI donât think Iâll be able to walk.â You flipped back around so you could drape your arms over his shoulders, soft playful pecks on his face. âDo they have toppings?âÂ
âLots.â His hands ran up and down your back.Â
âDo you think I have time to take a bath? I was going to take one when I got home, but I got sidetracked.âÂ
âTake all the time you need.â He hummed into your lips.Â
You got up from your spot, trekking back into the apartment. You glanced over your shoulder, watching him put his underwear back on. A smile painted his face from ear to ear. You turned back around and looked at yourself in the reflection of the window. Your hair tousled and still wet from the rain, rosy blooms sprouted over your neck and breasts. Things youâve seen before after a nice time with Stephen Strange, but there was something different. Now, there seemed to be a twinkle that shone in your eyes.
#dr strange x reader#stephen strange x reader#dr strange x you#dr strange x y/n#stephen strange x you#stephen strange x y/n#stephen strange smut#dr strange smut#dr strange x reader smut#stephen strange x reader smut#dr strange x you smut#stephen strange x you smut#dr strange x y/n smut#stephen strange x y/n smut#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n#marvel smut#marvel x you smut#marvel x y/n smut#mcu x you#mcu x reader#mcu smut#mcu x y/n#blaize writes#mine
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the one with the walk home
sirius black x reader ! - 1,272 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: no one say anything about how this is a few hours late- also i am scoring close to what i need on my practice exams and i am ECSTATIC
âI love you too,â Sirius looked up at you, as you answered his statement from hours ago. The walk from the hospital had been a silent one until now. After you bid your goodbyes to the new parents, the two of you decided to take the tube back to your flat, his hand finding yours as you walked under the mellow hue of the streetlights. His hand was enough to make you forget any embarrassment from wearing an oversized suit jacket on top of your pajamas through the streets. âjust by the way-â
Sirius broke into laughter, brief and fleeting but it left a smile in its place.Â
âDâyou really?â He shoved you with his shoulder, your arms extending before he pulled you back to his side. âCouldnât tell,â
âI bloody hope so Black, Iâm walking in the middle of the night for you- we might even be too late for the tube by now,âÂ
âOh please- Like Iâd let anything happen to you,â He said with a wink, a smirk curling on his lips. He let go of your hand, his arm easily taking its place across your shoulders.
âMe and my wand would be just fine without you though-âÂ
âAh yes- I forget, youâre quite the bright witch,â You hummed in agreement, a giggle breaking from your lips âDonât know if Professor McCormack would agree- you nearly blew his head off in defense against the dark arts our last year-â
You tskd in annoyance at the mention of your⌠small, incident.
âThat was an isolated incident- We both know I got better scores than you on all my NEWTs-â
âOnly because I ditched like half of them-â You rolled your eyes at him, the only one he had bothered to even show up for was Transfiguration out of respect for McGonagall. Not that heâd ever admit such a thing. âHow's mum by the way?â
 You smiled softly at the mention of your mom. Sirius loved the woman. She loved him too, maybe too much. You were thankful for it regardless.
âSheâs alright- quite tired, I reckon my dad has been driving her a bit nuts these days-â He hummed in acknowledgment, you kicked a small rock on your bath âNot that he hasn't been driving all of us crazy for yearsâŚâ you sighed âSorry-â
âFor what?â He looked down at you, and you kept looking forward, leaning your head against his side.Â
âI really shouldnât be complaining about him- It could be worse, he just wants what's best for me I guess-â
âDoesnât mean he doesn't drive you nuts love- parents are tricky that wayâ
âIt's more than just driving me crazy- nothingâs good enough for the man,â you sighed, rubbing your temple with the pads of your fingers. You went down the stairs onto the tubeâs platform âItâs exhausting- I got a job like he wanted, not in magic like he asked me toâ You shook your head, fighting the wobble of your lip and the hot tears behind your eyes. âI am trying so hard to please him, the other day he had the audacity to call and tell me that he-â The voice over the intercom announced the last train of the night as you both stopped right before the yellow line. You wrapped his suit jacket tighter around your shoulders.Â
âHe had the nerve to tell me that he thinks I should go back to school⌠go to some muggle Uni- to do something usefulâ you mocked his voice, annoyance ripping through you as your fingers air quoted his words. The train rushed through the platform, cutting you off. The doors opened and you instinctively grabbed a hold of his hand again. âI think- Well, I know- that he wishes I hadn't been a witch at all,â you said as you went inside.
The tubeâs doors closed, and you went silent. Sirius wrapped his arm around you as you sat down, the emptiness and silence of the cart hanging over the both of you.Â
You thought of your parents. Your mother who had been nothing short of ecstatic when you received your letter at age 11. She even wrote a letter back to Dumbledore, a million questions on the tip of her tongue- thrilled at how exciting everything sounded. He answered every one of her questions diligently. Her daughter was a witch.Â
Who wouldâve thought?
Your father was another story. You thought of him, the way he never answered your letters from school, it was only your mother. But, of course, he loved you.
You hoped.Â
He always said he only wanted what was best for you because he loved you.Â
You thought of Walburga Black. A woman who, despite the abuse, still had the audacity to say she loved her sons.Â
It took Sirius years to stop saying her torture came from a place of love.Â
The train car stopped briefly at the next stop. Neither of you stood to get off. You hoped Sirius was paying attention to the stops as you rested your head against his shoulder. He squeezed your shoulder.Â
Your father had never been happy about the turn your life took. Wouldnât let you do magic in the house even when you were of age. He hated it. He wanted you to go to University. Get a muggle career, a normal career. A normal life.
That wasnât even mentioning how infuriated he was once he found out you were moving in with Sirius. You could still hear his words in your head, even years later.Â
âHeâs a good-for-nothing rich kid- he hasnât lifted a finger in his life and youâre attaching yourself to him like this? With his stupid tattoos and his stupid bike- youâre going to get yourself killed- youâre not even bloody togetherâ Sirius squeezed you tighter to him, you didnât think he knew what you thought about. âWhat happens when he gets bored of you? Ditches you for some woman- you are so stupid-â
You didnât know if you were stupid for it. Your mom was basically planning you and Siriusâs wedding while your father cursed his presence in your life.
You thought of his unpacked bags.Â
Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the map of the train lanes.Â
3 More stops.
He tried ignoring the way you went silent, he tried for a second to forget the fact that you just implied you never wanted the job in the first place. Was he being crazy? No, well you just said it was what your father wanted. What about what you wanted?Â
He knew the man wasnât the fondest of him. He assumed it was the motorcycle and the tattoos, the pack of smokes in his pocket. Maybe even the smirk on his face.Â
Maybe even the way his wife fawned over him.
But it was more than that, wasnât it?
He hadn't even considered, that your non-magical father would hate the fact that you were magical. He thought of his mother, the brief flash of her words about how muggles were undesirables reverberating through his head.Â
Who wouldâve thought?Â
So he held you tighter, in silence, because Sirius Black did not know what else to do but hold you tight in his arms and hope that youâd know.Â
Hope that youâd know he loved you. Magic or not. Unconditionally, he thought. Jobless or employed. Sick or healthy. Young and stupid or old and wise.Â
He loved you.Â
He hoped you could hear his thoughts, so youâd know he was in love with you.
Because Godric knows he didn't dare to say out loud.Â
taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery
Let me know if i missed you or if you wanna be added!! I'm thinking doing a google doc for it? idk if it would be easier to sign up that way....
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#the marauders era#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#padfoot#sirius black fanfiction#sirius#sirius angst#sirius black drabble#sirius x reader#sirius black#sirius black series#sirius black x reader#sirius o black#sirius orion black#padfoot x you#padfoot x reader#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black angst
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once upon a dream
â yukimiyaâs been dreaming about a mysterious girl for a week and a half now. and, you havenât been able to sleep. what happens when you finally talk? love at first sight.
stp i wrote this insane in like 7 hours icb this is 3.4k words!!! wtf i dont even like yukki that much đ this is j word vomit bro AHHAA
you were familiar with the mortal god known as kenyu yukimiya. he was everything your friends wanted in a boyfriend. he was kind, charismatic, gentlemanly, not to mention extremely handsome.
his status as a teenage model and athlete didnât help his popularity either. girls were always asking him to hang out (hint: âhang outâ means âdateâ), to which he always agreed, even offering to pay for them.
thatâs just how he was.
and youâd be lying if you said you hadnât fallen under his siren spell too. not when his charming smile kept luring you closer to your death.
but, you could never pull him! not in a million years. with the status quo as it is, you two are in two different worlds.
at least, thatâs what you think.
to yukimiya, you were familiar, perhaps even special. he saw you once in passing while you were leaving your classroom, and he suddenly had a sense of deja vu; it was as if heâs already lived this before. it could always just be nothing. it could just be stress since nationals is coming up soon.
but even so, you still catch his eye. heâs always wanted to talk to you, but heâs had the secret anxiety that you wouldnât be too interested in talking to him. so, he enjoys the short times he see you pass him in the hallway, or coincidentally pick the lunch table beside his in the cafeteria.
but, he still feels as if thereâs more to it than just a friend crush. the way you carry yourself, and the tone of your voiceâ it all makes him feel a familiar way.
his dreams as of late have revolved around a faceless girl. he can never recall her face after he wakes, but he always awakens with a sense that a part of him is missing.
itâs late in the day, 20 minutes before 6 PM. and, training has just finished. yukimiya catches his breath as he takes off his goggles, switching them out for his everyday glasses.
ââŚsee you, guys!â he bids to the rest of his team, taking his leave with his school bag and training gear in hand.
the walk home is silent. before black spots begin to appear in his vision. âdamn itâŚâ he thinks, âright now of all times..?â. he internally groans before hurrying his pace, quickly making it home.
he takes off his shoes and calls, âmom! iâm home!â.
his mother hums in acknowledgment and responds, âkenyu, weâre having katsu curry for dinner!â ah, that sounds deliciousâŚ
âalright..! iâm gonna go lie down for a bit though. my vision is a bit blurry againâŚâ he comes into the kitchen, greeted with the salivating smell of his motherâs homemade curry.
âdear, if thatâs the case, go rest for a while. iâll save you a portion, alright?â his mother smiles. yukimiya frowns a bit but he nonetheless, obeys. âalright, mom. iâll just take a nap.â
he sighs as he climbs the stairs up to his bedroom, and flops onto his bed. today was exhausting, he almost immediately falls asleep.
he looks aroundâ heâs back at school. the sun outside looks as if itâs about to set, so classes must be over. but, heâs still in a classroom.
he leans on a desk, while the familiar faceless girl sits on one of the chairs. ââŚhm⌠so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?â she hums. heâs not quite sure what got him in this moment, but he nods. âthatâs right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.â
something about her was ethereal, have it be the delicate way she presents herself, or the way her hair gracefully frames her blurred face. whatever it was, the only thing that could come to mind when he saw her painted orange and pink by the setting sun was, âdivineâ.
âhah, maybe youâd benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.â she snickers.
âahah, i wouldnât hate that too much⌠why not?â he shrugs, laughing as well. thereâs a scary tension in his shoulders, he feels pretty stiff. he feels pretty nervousâ it feels like dread, but at the same time as if he has swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies, fluttering their way into his heart.
âreally? maybe iâll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentinesâ day then!â she innocuously proclaims this, unknown to the fact that yukimiyaâs heart gets caught in his throat.
âi..is that so? i guess that just means iâll have to return the favor on white day.â he hums, retrieving his school bag and training gear which had been thrown carelessly on a random desk.
his body was moving, but not to his mindâs command. why was he leaving?
he turned his back to face the mysterious girl again. a lithe hand moves to cover her mouth as she yawns, small pearlescent tears forming atop her lower eyelid.
her speech gets slurred. and his dream fades to black.
when yukimiya awakens, itâs 1:14 AM. talk about an after-school napâŚ
he scowls. his dream ended so suddenly, he has the desire for closure to give rest to the many âwhat ifâ scenarios for what she could have said. âwhat was she going to say? was she asking why i was leaving?â he wonders.
putting his disappointment aside, yukimiya decides to go and shower first. he leaves his room and goes into the bathroom beside the stairs to shower. all before changing into some clean clothes.
putting on a clean t-shirt, yukimiya sighs. clean clothes felt good. his stomach gurgles, and he groans at the sound. he did sleep for 7 hours. he shouldnât be too shocked that heâs starved.
making his way down the stairway, he goes into the kitchen and finds a plate of katsu curry and rice being covered by one of his motherâs large baking bowls. thereâs condensation of steam dripping from the metallic bowl from when the dish had been warm. the katsu by now has lost itsâ crunch after absorbing the curry, and the rice isnât quite as sticky anymore.
itâs not ideal, but yukimiya doesnât have it in himself to complain. he canât do anything about it anyways.
he throws the plate into the microwave to heat for two minutes. and as the dish spins on the microwaveâs glass plate, his mind wanders back to his dream. now, he could only vaguely recall details, but he knew that it felt real. the sensation of his school bagâs rough fabric, and the sound of her melodic voice pouring into his earsâ it all felt real.
the microwave beeps, and his train of thought is quickly stopped as he takes his food out of the microwave, and sits lonely at the dining table.
âgeez, this is depressingâŚâ he internally sighs. he might as well stay up until he has to get ready for school.
in another home however, youâve only fallen asleep. youâd been closing your eyes, as well as tossing and turning in your bed for about 3 hours now, unable to fall asleep. youâve tried everythingâ sleep ASMRs, melatonin candies⌠but, none of them have been able to help you sleep earlier.
itâs been like this for a week and a half now. youâve noticed the dark circles under your eyes are much more pronounced now, making you resemble an undead creature, rather than a high school student.
your friends have been teasing you with a corny, deluded sayingâ âif you canât sleep, then itâs probably because thereâs someone dreaming about you.â, they say. what nonsense! it was more likely that itâs the stress of your projects, than someone dreaming about you.
nonetheless, you simply relish in the fact that youâre now asleep. not dreaming about anything in particular, just having a sort of good nightâs sleep.
you groan when your alarm on your phone goes off. it sounds like an emergency alert system alarm. your father suggested after the first two times you were late last week due to oversleeping. your hand mindlessly moves, looking to turn off the irritating noise.
when itâs finally off, you lie in your bed for an extra minute or two. your body feels so stiff, everything hurtsâŚ
your heavy eyes open once again, and you turn your head far enough to see your phone and check the time. 6:18, did you oversleep for 20 minutes? you should get ready soonâŚ
you reluctantly get out from your comfortable bed and stretch, cracking all the stiff bones in your body. you go about your daily routine and go on your way to school. you walk hurriedly, in hopes of taking a quick cat nap before classes start.
that hope is sadly not reached, as you only arrive just about a minute or two before the bell rings.
you manage to soldier through the day, staying up and diligently taking notes, as well as taking a very well-deserved nap during lunch. it really is a featâ for you, at least.
the day goes by horrifyingly slow, and having to stay late for club these days is a nightmare. as much as you want to say youâve been putting all your effort into club activities, you really have been idling through until the time runs out.
sitting in one of the desks, youâre chatting with one of your club mates as your club president approaches you, âah, sorry to bother you, but thereâs a box on my desk in classroom 3-6, could you get it for me please..? iâm a bit busy to do it myself..â she explains.
âhm..? ah, sure. donât worry.â you nod in response. she sighs, relieved that you arenât too annoyed. âyay! thank you!â she hums, and you set on your way to classroom 3-6.
you climb your way up to the third floor, and let yourself inside the classroom. you quickly identify your presidentâs desk by the large box filled with goodies. âoh?â an airy yet warm voice hums. âwhat are you doing here?â
you turn your back and see yukimiya; bags in hand and everything..! âah, hey..!â you awkwardly greet him. youâre not quite sure what you should say. âjust⌠doing a favor. what about you?â
âi just forgot my lunchbox before i went down for training.â he hums, quickly grabbing his aforementioned lunchbox. at the mention of a lunchbox, you perk up. you hadnât eaten at lunch, so you were awfully hungry. âah..! you looked at me the second i mentioned my lunchbox!â he chuckled. âare you hungry? all i have is some packaged snacks.â he warns. he carelessly drops his school bag and training gear on another desk, and starts to move in your direction. all whilst opening the lunchbox, looking for something that you could to snack on.
you awkwardly laugh, embarrassed that he caught you. âhonestly, iâll take anything⌠thanks, yukimiya.â you graciously take the packaged rice cracker snack from his hands. yukimiya hums, âcall me yukki; my friends call me that, and itâs much less formal too.â
your eyes go down, downcast to avoid eye contact.
a popular boy just told you to call him a nickname his friends call him..! is this what itâs like to have a love life..?!
as your eyes remain low, you catch a glimpse of a stained container, it looks as if barney the dinosaur had died in it. âwhat did you have for your recess? it looks messyâŚâ you bluntly ask, not even thinking that it was probably a bit weird to ask.
âoh? i just had some blueberries. they were pretty lukewarm by the time break time came, though..! some of them got crushed. hence, the messâŚâ he laughs.
âblueberries? âŚiâve never really liked the taste. or⌠itâs more like the lack of tasteâŚâ you place the box on a random desk and sit on a chair. you could kill some time, club was technically over anyways. he raises an eyebrow at your words, âreally? i think theyâre pretty good. plus, they help with my eyesight.â
âyour eyesight? is it that bad? i feel like i only started seeing you wear glasses about two months ago.â yukimiya looks hesitant to answer, you probably crossed some sensitive territoryâŚ
âah⌠not exactly⌠i guess, i just want to maintain my vision as it is. so it wonât get worse, is all.â he explains, and you nod. âah, that makes sense.â
thereâs an awkward moment of silence. where do you go from this..?
ââŚhm⌠so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?â you clarify, hoping that heâd go into further detail. he pauses for a second. his muscles grow tense, as if he has realized something. but, he nods. âthatâs right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.â
heâs lived this before. his nails claw on the desk, itching to ground himself to reality.
this isnât a dream.
this is real life.
and, heâs finally talking to the faceless girl.
like in his dream, he turns his head, and sees you painted orange and pink by the fading sunset. you look even more exquisite now that he can see and recognize your face. your eyes shine in contrast to the setting sun, and your lips quiver, as you try to think of something to say.
your hair is a bit more messier than in his dream. and your posture is quite stiffâ no, awkward is a better word. your frame is awkward and anxious, he thinks. but, you still look just as divine as he dreamed you to be.
âhah, maybe youâd benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.â you laugh.
âahah, i wouldnât hate that too much⌠so, why not?â he shrugs. again, that pesky nervousness in his shoulders is back. seeing the girl he has, quite literally, dreamed of for a week and a half now is something heâs wanted for a while now. his rose-tinted view of the mysterious girl is makes him feel nervous now that heâs met you.
âah..!â you audibly gasp, âreally? maybe iâll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentinesâ day then!â you joke.
heâs heard those exact words before already, but it still flustered him.
i..is that so? heh, i guess that just means iâll have to return the favor on white day.â he laughs. itâs getting late. the teachers are gonna lock the classroom doors soon, so the two of you should probably leave. he grabs his school bag and training gear, as well as his lunchbox.
you seem to get the hint, and stand up as well. you yawn, covering your mouth to save yourself some dignity, and small tears form in your eyes. âahh⌠anyway, i have to take this down to my club room⌠iâll see you, yukki.â you bid goodbye, trying on the new nickname for size.
but, yukimiyaâs not ready to say goodbye just yet.
âahh.. do you want me to carry that for you..? you seem pretty tired, soâŚâ he wanders off, âare you okay?â
you reluctantly let him carry the box, and the two of you begin to walk down the stairs to your clubroom. âyeah, iâm alright⌠i just havenât been sleeping well.â you hum, âiâve tried basically everything⌠but, i canât seem to sleep.â, you sigh.
âah, seems annoying⌠but, i canât do much to fix that. sorryâŚâ he responds. his response seems a bit absent-minded though, as if he wasnât focusing on what he said.
that was because his attention was directed to the lack of distance between the two of you. heâs been this close to other girls before⌠but, being close to you seems to make his heart pound right outside of his chest.
âeh, itâs not your fault. donât worry to much about it.â you wave it off, as if it was a minor inconvenience.
the rest of the walk was uncomfortably silent but soon enough, youâre at your club room. you graciously open the door for yukimiya, which lets him get inside easily and place the box on a nearby table.
âheh⌠thanks, superman.â you smile. and yukimiyaâs eyes move to avoid contact, embarrassed by the nickname. âoh, uhh⌠it really wasnât a problem, so donât worry about it.â he awkwardly laughs.
âi didnât keep you too long, did i?â you ask. heâs not too sure what else he couldâve been busy with, but heâs touched by your concern. ânope, donât worry too much.â he chides.
âjust a habit, heheâŚâ you explain yourself as you move to grab your own school bag. âaâanyways, iâll see you, yukki..!â you bid him goodbye for the second time today, waving your hand goodbye.
but again, yukimiya still isnât quite ready to say goodbye.
âohâ do you want me to walk you home..?â he offers, quite forwardly, at that.
your face scrunches at his offer, anxious to be taking up so much of his time today, ân..no, thatâs asking too much now⌠itâs fine, donât worry too, okay?â you laugh, throwing back his own advice.
yukimiya scoffs, recognizing his own hypocrisy. heâs a bit saddened by the fact that you rejected his offer, but he has to respect your decision. âalright⌠then, maybe you wanna⌠hang out sometime..?â he sounds nervous. heâs never had to be the one asking someone out, so he doesnât know how to ask someone to âhang outâ.
âi..i can pay too if moneyâs a concern. iâm the one whoâs asking you out after all, itâs only fair.â he rationalized. you mull it over for a quick minute, and you finally respond, âsure, but you really donât have to do all that..! itâs not like this would be a dateâŚâ you reassure him.
for some reason, that last part hurt. he wishes that it was a date. his shoulders visually slum down in disappointment, but thereâs still a sense of hope to his expression.
heâs willing to put time into this. he wants to know more about you; know why youâre appearing in his dreams. he nods, âyeah, thatâs fair enough⌠are you free this saturday? we can just go around the city.â
âmhm. sounds like a plan.â you nod.
he grins, âgreat. iâll see youâ,â he pauses. he never asked about your name..! here he was disappointed about dates, and wanting to know more about you, but he doesnât even know what your name is..! he should probably just disappear, this is too embarrassing. thereâs no recovering from thisâ
âs/o.â
what?
âmy name is s/o.â you inform him.
yukimiya snaps out of his humiliated state long enough to respond, âah, i see..! my mistake for not ever asking for your name. heh, i guess i just got a bit too comfortable.â you laugh at his scatterbrainedness, and wave it off. âitâs fine, i got a bit comfortable too, so i forgot to tell you my name.â
heâs glad that you also felt comfortable with him, but he has a feeling that you have a different meaning for comfortableâŚ
he felt as if heâs already known you. but, you simply thought of him as a schoolmate that youâre familiar with. it was his mistake for thinking of you as the faceless girl from his dreams, rather than the much more lifelike girl that stood before him.
âright⌠well, iâll see you, s/o.â he smiles as he waves goodbye, his smile much wider than it had been before he met you in that classroom. you nod, waving goodbye as well. âyeah! bye, yukki!â
the two of you walk toward the school exit together before finally parting ways, leaving yukimiya feeling as if heâs separated with a part of him.
it was odd that heâs already this attached to you. but, maybe that was just because of the fact that the two of you just naturally clicked. or, the fact that heâs seen and talked with your faceless self in ephemeral periods when time stood stillâ all of it in romantic, rose-tinted glasses.
the moment he came home, he has just been a ticking time bomb, waiting for the moment he can see you again. heâs never felt quite as nervous as he does right now.
his heart feels like a heavy weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. he canât have a crush on you already⌠can he?
itâs a question that haunts yukimiya as he lies in bed, anxious and unable to sleep.
and for the first time in a while, you have a good nightâs rest.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk fluff#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock yukimiya#bllk yukimiya#yukimiya kenyu#yukimiya x reader#yukimiya fluff#kenyu yukimiya x reader#blue lock yuki
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hello!!! my apologies i know someone requested a q fic that i posted an hour ago BUT i deleted it, not knowing that it would delete the inbox request (im dumb) BUT ITS HERE!!! whoever u are, this is for u lol!
the perspective of where i wrote this from is that you're salâs youngest sister (maybe 6-7 years younger than him BUT you aren't a minor to brian dont worry!!!!) but he would've never ever imagined you and brian, his best friend, to ever hook up with one another. if he ever found out, heâd probably never talk to either one of you guys ever again. also this is set in 2008 maybe ?? peak tenderloins era. i think âŚÂ
brian quinn â ď¸ď¸ daddyâs girl
1376 words âĄ
you awoke from the sound of your doorbell ringing at an ungodly hour. 2:37 am read your clock in bright and blaring red lighting. it made you jump slightly but nonetheless, you took some time to orient yourself, your heart already racing from the sudden interruption. lazily, you got up and started to question⌠who the HELL could that even be at my door at this hour?
you didn't know anyone that would come up unannounced, hell, your apartment complex wasn't the kind of building to let in strangers to show up, especially in the middle of the night. you grabbed a spare hoodie (brian's hoodieâŚ) throwing it over your tank top as you padded towards the door.Â
then, all of a sudden, came a knock. three sharp taps, followed by a familiar, deep voice â one that you could always hear in the back of your mind.
âitâs me. baby please, open upâ.
brian fucking quinn.
what was he doing here and why must it be at 2:40 in the morning? you unlock the door, opening it just enough to see him standing there, illuminated by the orange glow of your apartment's hallway. he looked⌠disheveled. like he woke up on the wrong side of his bed (he did). his hair was messy, like heâd been running it through his hands over and over, black hoodie with a jacket hanging open over it.Â
but it was his face that really made you take a second look. his eyes â those stupid, downturnt eyes that were too expressive for his own goodâ were tired and red-rimmed, as if he hadn't slept for a day or two.Â
something stinged in your heart but you broke the silence, âbrian?â, you whispered softly, your voice still riddled with sleep and confusion. âwhat are you doing here?â.Â
he let out a shaky breath, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at you through the crack of the door, âmâsorry angelâ, he spoke, low and rough. âi⌠i know it's late and you should probably be sleeping but i couldnt⌠i didn't know where else to go except hereâ.Â
in that moment, you swung the door open, letting him in. he hesitated for a second, like he wasn't too sure if he should step inside but as he did, you caught the faint smell of his cologne, familiar and homely in a way that made your chest ache for him.Â
âi couldn't stop thinking about you honâ, he said, words almost feeling too frantic and rushed, as if theyâd been bottled in for too long. âevery time i try to do the right thing and just stay away, it just⌠it never fuckinâ works. it never works and i never want it to work. but tonight, i justâ i couldn't stay away. not in a million yearsâ.
he seemed like he was on the verge of falling apart if you hadn't caught the tears gathering in his eyes. it was too much to take.
âya think it's easy for me?â, he continued, voice breaking slightly. âi hate sneaking around to see you. i.. we cant even go on dates together and i just hate lying to sal. i hate feeling like im ruining everything. but not seeing you? pretending like you dont matter to me? pretending that the thing that we have is nothing? baby, that's worse. that's so much worseâ.
âbrianâŚâ you start, but he shakes his head, stepping closer to you.Â
ânoâ, he cuts you off gently. âjustâŚplease listenâ, his hand at your hip, his thumb tracing a slow pattern against your skin.Â
âyou're so stubborn, you know that?â, he murmured, his voice soft. âyou act like you don't want all this. like you don't need me or that you're fine keeping this⌠whatever this is⌠a complete secret. but trust me, i can see right through you babyâ.
your breath hitches as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, his gaze following the movement as if he was trying to memorize every second of it. âevery time i touch youâ, his voice deep, âyou melt. you let me in, even though you're so scared of what might happen if someone found out. but right now? right now, it's just you and meâ.Â
itâs like you're under his spell.Â
âstill scared, baby?â, he asked, leaning down just enough that his lips were merely a breath away from yours.Â
âno. no iâm notâ, you whisper. you tried to sound confident but the tremble in your voice gave it away.
âbut brian we shouldn'tââ.
âi donât careâ, he says, voice making your heart ache. âyou've been driving me insane, baby. do you even know how hard it is to hold back whenever i see you?â.
his lips find your neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses all over your skin, each one making it more and more difficult to think. âlet me take care of you baby. just tonight. no one has to know, i swearâ.
you knew you had to stop this that there were a billion reasons why this was a horrible idea but when his hands gripped your waist and his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on the right side of your neck, every reason just went away.Â
your breath hitched, the air between you both feeling impossibly warm. his soft touch was just enough to make you whimper, his hands leading you to the bedroom like he was afraid you might slip away from him forever.
âyou don't know how long i've been waiting for this, briâ, you murmured against his skin. âto have you like thisâ i've been thinking about it for so long and it just seemed impossible..â
âbrian..â you managed to whisper, your voice shaky as he got into your bed. you begin to curl his hair with your fingers as he's on top of you. you tug him back up to kiss you but this time, it was so much more slower and deeper, his tongue teasing yours as he kissed you like he had all the time in the world.
âi love the way you say my nameâ, he said, soft and low. his fingers trailed your body up and down, leaving goosebumps in its wake. he leaned down and slid his hand between your thighs, his fingers teasing your slick folds. you gasped, your hips lifting off of the bed as you sought more of his touch. he wanted it too, slipping one finger inside of you, then two, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars.Â
you moaned, your head falling back against a pile of pillows as he worked quicker and quicker. his rings brushed against your inner thighs, the cold metal being a total opposite to the heat of his skin. each thrust sent shivers racing down your body. his fingers stretched you out deliciously, making you arch your back, pressing your hips against his handÂ
he rubbed tight circles around your clit with his thumb, plunging it deeper than you ever felt before. the rough texture of his skin and the coolness of his rings made a maddening combination of sensations. your juices flowed freely, coating his fingers while making obscene wet sounds as he worked harder and harder towards your orgasm.Â
âlook at you, so desperate for my touchâ, he growled, breathing heavily. âyour pretty little pussyâs grippinâ my fingers so tightly, like she doesn't want to let them goâ, he chuckles.Â
he curled his fingers rougher inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl and your vision blur. at the same time, he pinched your clit between his thumb and forefinger, the cold metal of his rings making you scream out in pleasure.Â
you cried out, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pure ecstasy washed over you. he helped you work through your climax, fingers never stopping until you collapsed back onto the bed, spent and trembling.Â
he pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean, âfuck, baby, you taste better than i remembered. i could finger this sweet pussy all night longâ.Â
and you let him show you how good he could make you feel.Â
#first smut fic ever im nervous#brian quinn#brian quinn x reader#impractical jokers#brian quinn x female oc#brian quinn x female reader#q x reader#q impractical jokers#the tenderloins#need him
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đŚINTERâS đDGE !
pairing : daryl dixon x reader warnings : enemies to lovers, mean!daryl, hurt / comfort, crying, flashbacks, shouting, injury, fluff wc : 3k a/n : sorry if this storyline is weird and incoherent i wrote this super quick and itâs completely unedited đ
the cold wind cut through your clothes, gnawing at the edges of your body like a thousand little knives. snow swirled, thick and heavy, clouding your vision as you trudged through the freezing wilderness. each breath you took stung your lungs, but the feeling of the storm engulfing you almost made you forget how cold your body had become.
you hadnât spoken much to daryl. not that you ever did, but today felt different. there was a heaviness between you that made the silence uncomfortable. his posture was stiff, tense, and there was an air about him that made it feel like every word he spoke was wrapped in ice. the usually stoic man was colder than the storm itself, and it left an ache in your chest. but you didnât let it show, only occasionally, when you thought too hard about it and your eyes pricked and filled with unshed tears. sometimes he did let his guard down, but only after breaking yours into a million pieces.
đ one week agoâŚ
daryl stormed into the cabin, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattled the walls. he was out of breath, his clothes soaked from the harsh winter winds, his face set in a scowl. you werenât sure whether it was from the cold or something else, but you had a feeling it was the latter.
he turned to you, eyes hard and narrowed, and you immediately knew something was wrong. his voice came out low, tight with anger. "what the hell were you thinkin'?"
you froze, the warmth from the fire doing nothing to ease the chill that had crept into your bones. "i was fine," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "just a quick run, i didnât think - "
"didnât think?" he cut you off, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "you couldâve gotten yourself killed, what if they - what if you hadnât made it back?" his breath was coming in quick bursts now, his face red with frustration.
you swallowed hard, the words stinging more than you expected. "i didnât - i didnât mean to - "
"you always do this shit," daryl spat, his voice thick with bitterness. "put yourself at risk like itâs nothinâ. you think i donât care? you think i donât worry about you every damn time you go off on your own? damn it, why do you gotta be so reckless?"
the tears youâd been holding back started to spill over, your face flushed with a mix of frustration and hurt. "i didnât mean to - "
"well, you did," daryl shot back, voice sharp as a whip. "you always do." his chest heaved with the intensity of his anger, but there was a flicker of regret crossing his features, just for a moment. you barely had time to register it before his next words hit like a punch. "you think iâm just supposed to sit back and watch you make these stupid decisions? iâm not gonna let you get yourself killed, damn it."
you took a step back, the sting of his words sinking in deep. you wanted to argue, to tell him you could take care of yourself, but the tears kept coming. the anger, the frustration, it all mixed up with the sharp ache in your chest. you couldnât stop them.
"donât just stand there crying," daryl muttered, clearly uncomfortable but still angry. "you should know better by now."
you turned away, trying to hide your tears, but darylâs words had hit harder than you expected. you wanted him to see how hurt you were, but there was no way to make him understand. not when his anger was so much louder than anything else.
the next day, rick had pulled daryl aside, and although you didnât know exactly what had been said, you were sure that it had made daryl think twice. he came to you later that evening, standing in the doorway, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. his voice was low, rough around the edges, but there was a softness there that hadnât been in his words before.
"i didnât mean it," he said, the words almost grudging, like they were a struggle to get out. "i was just... worried. you got no idea how much i fuckinâ hate when you put yourself in danger like that."
you stayed silent, unsure what to say, but his eyes were sincere. it wasnât a perfect apology, but it was something. "okay, daryl," you whispered, trying to push past the ache in your chest.
daryl nodded, looking down for a second, and you could see the frustration still there, lingering beneath the surface. "i wonât⌠be like that. iâll try," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "just... stay safe, alright?"
it wasnât the grand gesture you had been expecting, but in that moment, you understood. he wasnât good with words, and he was terrible at handling his emotions, but in his own way, he was trying. and that was enough for now.
đ present dayâŚ
since then, you had grown used to his silence. used to his gruff exterior. the way he kept most people at armâs length, especially you. youâd never done anything to him, no reason that he had to treat you as coldly as he often did, but nevertheless it was your reality now. none of the group has understood it, youâd been with them as long as carol had, but daryl acted as if you were a newcomer, not to be trusted. rick often paired you two up to go on runs to fix whatever animosity he held when it came to you, but they did nothing but foster that animosity into sharp responses and drawn out glares. but still, there was something about today. his refusal to speak, to acknowledge you in any real way, made your chest tight and your skin crawl.
"keep up," daryl muttered, his voice low and sharp as he glanced over his shoulder. you hadnât realised you were lagging behind. maybe it was the storm slowing your steps, or maybe it was just you, lost in your own head.Â
you nodded quickly, swallowing back the words that burned your tongue. "âm right here."
daryl didnât reply. he just turned forward and kept walking. it wasnât the first time heâd been distant, but something about it today cut deeper than usual. you hadnât been able to shake the feeling that it had something to do with you. maybe youâd pushed him too far. maybe you had said something or done something that had irritated him.
but whatever it was, it left you feeling small and insignificant.
the storm grew worse. the winds picked up, the snow fell faster, and the trees around you groaned under the weight of the snow. your breath puffed in front of you in heavy clouds, but you kept moving forward, determined to make it through the blizzard, determined to get to the cabin daryl had promised.
it wasnât long before the first growl of walkers hit your ears. daryl spun around, his hand already on his crossbow, aiming at the group of walkers. you froze, adrenaline rushing through your veins, but before you could really react, a walker lunged forward. its jagged fingernails sank into your arm, pulling you off balance.
your feet slipped on the icy ground, and you tumbled into the river that rushed nearby, the water shockingly cold as it enveloped you. your lungs screamed for air as you gasped and fought against the current, but it was useless. the ice-cold water dragged you further away from the bank.
darylâs voice was sharp, filled with panic, though he tried to mask it with gritted teeth. "get the fuck outta there!"Â
you tried to claw your way to the shore, but your limbs were frozen, heavy, and uncooperative. every time you managed to get a grip on the icy rocks, another wave of the current would knock you back. it felt like the world was closing in on you, the freezing cold, the rushing water, and darylâs yelling mixing together in a blur.Â
then, everything went black.
when you woke, the cold was still there, but you were no longer in the water. you were lying on the ground, drenched and shivering uncontrollably, your body numb from the cold. daryl was kneeling beside you, his rough hands pressing against your chest, trying to warm you up.
"you with me?" he growled, his voice harsh but not unkind.
you blinked up at him, feeling the warmth of his hand against your frozen skin. "yeah," you whispered, teeth chattering. "i'm... i'm fine."
"donât lie," he muttered, his fingers gently brushing the water from your face. "youâre not fine."
you could see the concern flicker in his eyes for a brief moment, but then it was gone, replaced by that same guarded look he always wore around you. it stung, but you pushed the feeling away. you had known daryl for a while now, and you knew better than to expect anything more from him.Â
"iâll get you warm," he said, his voice firm, like he was ordering himself more than you.Â
you tried to sit up, but the moment you shifted, your body went into shock, and you collapsed back to the ground with a quiet gasp.
"damn it," daryl muttered under his breath. he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into his lap with surprising gentleness. it wasnât like him to do something like this, and you felt your chest tighten at the way he cradled you, careful, almost tender.
he muttered something about getting you back to the cabin, but you were barely listening. the cold was overwhelming, and the exhaustion of the past few days - combined with the shock of nearly drowning - had you feeling like your body might give out at any moment.
"stay with me," daryl said quietly, his voice softer than it had been all day. his arms wrapped around you tighter, his rough fingers brushing the hair away from your face as his breath mingled with yours. "iâm not letting you go."
you felt the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, and you realised how desperately you needed this. you needed him. you needed someone to keep you safe.Â
you didnât speak. you just let him hold you, let him warm you, let him be the one thing that kept you grounded in this frozen world.
after what felt like an eternity, daryl shifted beneath you, his hands moving to rub your arms, trying to bring feeling back into your numb limbs. "i donât know why you do this," he muttered. "act like youâre invincible when youâre not. youâre not some damn hero."
you frowned, confusion and worry swirling in your gut. "what does that mean?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
daryl hesitated. for a moment, he didnât say anything, but you could feel the tension between you both, like he was fighting himself. finally, he sighed, a deep, heavy sound, and brushed his thumb across your cheek. "i donât know how to do this," he admitted quietly. "how to be⌠with you. but damn it, i canât stand the thought of losing you."
his words hit you like a wave, and your eyes filled with tears. "daryl..." you whispered, but the words caught in your throat as emotion swelled within you. you wanted to say something - anything - but your body trembled too much.
"i donât need you cryinâ on me, okay?" he snapped, but there was no heat behind the words. instead, he gently wiped the tears from your face, his movements surprisingly soft.
"sorry," you whispered through sniffles, not sure why you were apologizing.
"donât be, sweetheart" he said, his voice almost gentle. "iâm sorry... i never meant to make you feel like you had to do this alone."Â
you didnât respond. the rawness of his admission hit you hard, and you could feel the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. daryl gripped you tighter, and for the first time, you saw him as something other than the tough, cold man who kept his distance.Â
"i need you," he muttered against your hair. "iâve always needed you."
the words were enough to make your heart race, your body flush with heat despite the cold. you wanted to say something back, but the pressure in your chest wouldnât allow it. so, instead, you just nodded, your eyes fluttering shut.
he shifted under you again, moving just slightly to get more comfortable, and you could feel his lips hover over yours for a long moment. he hesitated, like he was unsure if he was crossing a line. then, with a soft, almost desperate groan, he kissed you.
it wasnât rough, but it wasnât soft either. it was full of pent-up longing, slow, and deep. his lips moved over yours like he was claiming you, like he couldnât stand being this close to you without making sure you knew how much you meant to him. it was messy, heated, and completely overwhelming.
when he pulled away, his breath was shaky, and his hands held your face gently. "donât ever do something like that again," he said softly, his voice low and ragged. "you scared the shit outta me."
you smiled through your tears, nodding against him. "i wonât," you promised, your hands gently tracing the rough outline of his jaw.Â
he pulled you closer again, his hand on the back of your head as he pressed his forehead against yours, both of you trying to breathe in the same air. in that moment, you knew youâd never be alone again.
đ one week laterâŚ
the night had been long, and the cabin was quiet except for the crackling fire. the warmth of the room, combined with the exhaustion from the dayâs journey, made everything feel a little surreal. daryl was close beside you, his body heat a welcome comfort against the cold, as his hands cupped your face with that familiar gentleness that had slowly become more frequent.
you were both so absorbed in the moment, the world outside seeming distant, when you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. but neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the stolen moments between you.
creak. the door to the cabin slowly opened, and in walked glenn and maggie, chatting amongst themselves. they froze, their conversation cutting off abruptly as they caught sight of the scene in front of them.
the two of you were so close now, lips meeting in a slow, heated kiss, unaware that the group was standing right there. darylâs hand was on your back, his thumb gently stroking the skin above your waistband. your own hands were gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer, as if there was nothing in the world that mattered more than this.
glenn was the first to react, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. he let out an almost inaudible, "whoa." maggie, standing next to him, blinked twice, then burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle the sound.
daryl didnât move, didnât break the kiss, but there was a faint groan of frustration when he realised what had happened. his hands remained where they were, but his eyes flicked to glenn and maggie, the awkward realisation dawning.
you, on the other hand, pulled back quickly, your face flaming with embarrassment as you scrambled to push yourself away from daryl. you couldnât even look at them, much less speak. the warmth of the cabin felt suffocating now, your whole body burning with the intensity of being caught in such an intimate moment.
"oh my god," maggie said, laughing harder now, unable to control herself. "this is too much, you two." she giggled at glenn, her bright eyes twinkling, tears threatening to form with how hard she was shaking. "glenn, should we leave them alone?"
glenn, still in shock, let out a small, awkward chuckle, looking anywhere but at the two of you. "yeah, uh, we should... probably go... leave them to... uh... their business." he cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable, but also clearly trying to suppress his grin.
you wanted to crawl under the floorboards. why was this happening? why did they have to walk in on this?
"you guys," daryl muttered, finally breaking his silence. his voice was rough, but there was no denying the awkwardness in it. "just... just get the hell out, alright?" he uttered, remnants of your cherry flavoured lip balm still on his lips, making it very hard for anybody in their right mind to take him seriously, especially with the little grin forming on his face.
maggie barely stifled another laugh as she gave daryl a teasing look. "donât worry, big guy, weâll give you two some privacy." she winked, and then, with glenn awkwardly tugging at her arm, the two of them backed out of the cabin.
as the door clicked shut behind them, you could hear their muffled laughter outside, and the heat in your face was unbearable. you slowly turned to daryl, who was trying to keep his composure, but you could see the corner of his lips twitching upward.
"donât say it," you warned him quietly, looking down at the floor, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
but daryl couldnât help it. "damn," he said with a smirk. "they just had to barge in, huh?"
"youâre not helping," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.
daryl chuckled, his usual gruffness softened by the amusement in his voice. "ainât my fault youâre so damn cute when youâre all flustered," he teased, pulling you back into his arms, cupping your face and tilting your chin up to fuse your mouth with his once again.
the group would never let either of you live this down. but, somehow, as daryl held you close, you couldnât bring yourself to care.
đ daryl dixon : @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid, @sunnykittyzz
@california-boys-and-sun, @cable-kenobi
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