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gyuswhore · 1 year ago

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

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

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

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

or;

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

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

PLAYLIST: right here!

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

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

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

“Never knew you read.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And believe you instead?”

Oh, you wish.

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

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

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

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

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

“How far are you with that one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

“Did you drive like this?”

“Uh, no, I walked.”

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

“Wanted to see you.”

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

“Had to talk about the book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.

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

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

“It’s not about that.”

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

“Easy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hate living in peace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing here?”

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

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

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

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

You really needed a new car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had forgotten your book.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he uncomfortable with you?

Was he avoiding you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s next week, isn’t it?”

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

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

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”

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

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”

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

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“O-okay.”

It’s silent. Painfully so.

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

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

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

“Mingyu—“

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

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

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

He pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t. You can’t do it.

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

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

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

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

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

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

“It’s not that!” you groan.

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

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

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

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

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

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

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

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

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

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

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.

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

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

“Seokmin!” you scream.

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

“No, it’s not,” you grit.

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

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

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

“I don’t want to go.”

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

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

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this.

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

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

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

“Seok told me you were here too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back.

And another

Then another.

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

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

THE BEGINNING

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

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

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

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

You needed to leave.

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

“Let’s go home.”

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

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

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

“Let me drop you off home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?”

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

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

“Nayeon’s”

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you mean it,” you say.

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Mingyu,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

“Great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you bring it with you?”

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

“What the fuck?” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“I-”

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

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We could do that right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so,” you reply.

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

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

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

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

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

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

“I love you more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.

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

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

He’s silent.

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love ya’” he giggles.

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

“And I love you.”

4K notes · View notes

hollybell51 · 2 years ago

Text

Last night on Earth

^don't mind me going absolutely feral over this gif

Navigation

Cas x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s05e03 "free to be you and me"

Word count: 6.4K

Summary: following the hooker failure, you feel that sitting alone in a shitty abandoned house is not the best way to spend one's last night on Earth. Cas seems to agree with you.

Content: smut! Yay! First kisses, first time, making out, handjobs, hickeys, penetrative sex, safe sex (yay!), cowgirl, mutual masturbation, fingering, gags? if you squint? maybe? like a hand over the mouth. Discussions of sex work and sex workers (I'm not commenting on anything, it's just there as dialogue due to the nature of the episode, and all dialogue/internal monologue regarding the topic is purely for the furtherment of the plot). Talking during sex, Cas is loud. Sex on a couch, spooning, almost-love-confessions ("like-confessions"). Very light comment on body image, some very vague descriptions of scars (reader is a hunter). Cas is just Cas and I love him for it. He's also a virgin. Dean's probably a warning but I adore him.

Notes: Heyyyy how's it going? One day into my holidays and I churn out this bad boy. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and hey, I'm a sucker for virgin angels. This show is rapidly taking over my whole life lmao.

It's also been a while so I just thought I'd remind people of the taglist form, and the existence of my AO3 (if you wanna read my stuff there for whatever reason). Anyways enjoy, stay safe out there xx

“That was quick,” you called as the door creaked open, Dean’s low chuckle echoing through the hallway. You closed the book you’d been reading – a shitty paperback you’d picked out of a bargain bin – and watched as the other hunter dropped his jacket onto a rusted dining chair. You’d expected them to be gone for a few hours, hence your foray into the realms of “downtime”, but it had barely been one since they’d left, Dean throwing an obscenely enthusiastic wink your way as he shoved an apprehensive looking Cas out to enjoy his last night on Earth.

“We had to wrap it up pretty fast.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas, laughter still clinging to his face. You hadn’t seen him look that happy in ages, not for this long. Well, that was something at least.

You’d had your doubts about the whole idea from the moment Dean had mentioned it. Sure, sex was sex. It was something that could be pretty darn nice and that you were glad for in your life, but you weren’t sure if Dean fully grasped that it was never the same with a hooker. It would never feel as good, it would never be meaningful, it would be a service purchased from a provider. A business transaction. That wasn’t any way to experience it for the first time, in your opinion.

“Good time not a long time, then?” you asked mildly.

“Would you say that, Cas?”

The angel stiffened, hands shoved into the pockets of his trench coat.

You wrinkled your nose, suddenly wondering if you should feel bad. “Bad time?”

Dean snorted. “I’m turning in. You tell (Y/N) about it, she’ll give you a pat on the back and tell you it’s alright. And don’t look so… grief stricken.”

“G’night,” you waved to his retreating back, then turned back to Cas. “Really bad time?”

He really did look grief stricken, standing stock still in the dimness. Even his hair looked droopier than usual, and you almost got out of your seat just to push it off his face. You settled for putting your book down and leaning forward.

“She ran away,” he said after a moment. “I think I scared her.”

“Geez,” you frowned. “How’d you scare a hooker?”

He shrugged. “I told her it wasn’t her fault that her father Gene ran off.” Then, as if it explained everything; “He hated his job at the post office.”

You laughed, but stopped quickly. “Oh, Cas. You know the whole–”

“The whole industry is run on absent fathers, I know.” He sighed. “Dean found it hilarious.”

This time, you did get up, crossing the room to pat his shoulder. You knew Dean wouldn’t have meant anything by it, wouldn’t have been laughing at Cas. Still, a pang of what was almost pity shot through you. It wasn’t about the sex, not really, as much as Dean played that aspect up. It was more all the coulds that never would. Cas wasn’t human, as much as he could pass it off (mostly), but there were so many things that he wasn’t going to get to try now. You just didn’t understand how he could so casually volunteer to die at the drop of a hat. It was either incredibly selfless, or incredibly selfish. Or maybe just stupid.

But no, Cas wasn’t stupid. He was razor sharp, a soldier of God, even if you poked fun at him when he didn’t understand your and Dean’s pop-culture reference infused slang. It had only been the last time you’d seen him that you’d vowed to make him sit through all the Star Wars movies, something you hadn’t realised until afterwards had sounded a lot like a “movie and chill” proposal. Luckily, he wouldn’t have picked up on that. Just like he wouldn’t have picked up – like Dean had – the moments where you caught yourself watching him, or the smiles that were just too damned determined to break out on your face when he showed up – either in the real world or in your mind. And thank the heavens nobody but you noticed the tiny flurries of butterflies in your stomach you’d noticed increasingly often when he was around, the surges of warmth that would sneak up and rush over you unexpectedly when you thought of him, the tingles that flooded your skin when he stood that little bit too close to you.

Which, when you thought about it, was maybe contributing to the ounce of vindication you were feeling regarding the hooker failure. It wasn’t all the “I told you so” type of satisfaction, anyway, and you weren’t too proud to admit when you liked someone.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him now, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’re giving me a pat on the back and telling me it’s alright,” he sighed, almost mournfully. “Dean said–”

You reached up, pressing a finger to his lips and shaking your head. “You wanna know something?”

He nodded, brows furrowed. He hadn’t drawn back, you noticed.

“It doesn’t matter how much sex Dean has,” you whispered, hand still floating close by his face. “I wouldn’t take a damn letter of his advice in that department.”

“Why not?” His breath tickled your skin, and suddenly you realised just how close you were standing.

You shrugged, dispelling the shiver that had run up your spine. “I just know if a dude came onto me how he comes onto chicks, I’d kick him in the balls.”

“I’ll make a point to not come onto you like he does, in that case.”

It took a moment – past the words “like he does”, not that he wouldn’t come onto you full stop, but like Dean does – for the fact that it was a joke to sink in, then you smiled. Maybe there was, or had been, hope for him yet. You took a breath, turning the words over in your mind. It was now or never, you supposed.

“I want you to know,” you said carefully, “if you die–”

“When. Tomorrow, when I die.”

“Uh, yeah.” You swallowed. How could he be so matter of fact about it? How could he just say it like that? It didn’t matter, you supposed. Whether he said it or didn’t, it wasn’t going to change the fact that it was happening.

“When I die…” he prompted when you were silent.

“I want you to know that I liked you,” you said simply, then shrugged. “I think I was on the way to really liking you.”

He frowned, and for a moment you thought you’d made a massive mistake. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t mind. I know I’m… a dick.”

“Jesus, Cas,” you snorted. “Guess we say that a bit too much, don’t we?”

“Maybe.”

“And we don’t say ‘thank you’ enough.”

He shook his head, still holding your hand. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated.

“It’s not about that. Not all of it, anyway.” You smiled, glancing at your hand where it met his. It looked big, wrapped around your fingers, and it fitted painfully well. “But, you know, if it’s your last night on Earth…” You looked up, wiggling your eyebrows. You could play it off as a joke if you needed to, you weren’t too far in yet.

That familiar almost-smile you’d come to look for danced over his lips. “You pity me, dying a virgin? Dying,” he added. “A virgin.”

You laughed. “I don’t… pity you. Not exactly. Not because you’re gonna die a virgin, and definitely not because you’re a virgin.”

“Because I scared away a prostitute?”

“Her loss,” you laughed. “And anyway, if it’s your first and last time, it’d be nice to… y’know… feel good.”

He frowned. “Surely a prostitute would know how to do that?”

“Maybe the technicalities,” you shrugged, “but there’s more to it than that. There’s feelings, y’know?”

“Feelings?”

Again, you shrugged, suddenly self conscious. What were you doing? “Two way street kind of thing,” you explained lamely. “Not just someone you want, but someone who wants you. Not just your money.” You were acutely aware of the unspoken words floating beneath the casual sentence. I want you. It could be me.

A pause, where his eyes seemed to bore into your soul. He had a knack for that, you’d noticed. Sometimes you felt like he could see right to the very core of your being. In the dimness, they looked even more startlingly blue than usual. He was so close, you could almost count his eyelashes, almost feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath the coat, jacket, shirt, tie…

“When it’s…” He paused, his tongue darting over his lips. God, his lips. “Someone you want.”

“Mhm.”

“Someone who wants you.”

“Mhm.”

“Not just your money.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off his mouth through the whole exchange, and your voice, when you asked, sounded softer than you’d meant it to, breathy and faint to your own ears. “Do you want me, Cas? Last night on Earth, and all.”

The corner of his mouth curled up, brows twitching into a thoughtful frown. No, you thought, not quite a frown. Something else, more curious than confused. Almost quizzical. “I think…” He paused, drawing breath. “I think I do.”

“Ok,” you smiled, ignoring the butterfly rampage taking place in your stomach. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. Not your life, anyway, even if it was Cas’s last night on Earth. It didn’t exist outside the pages of those shitty paperbacks.

“Do you want me?” Cas asked.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, really. Then you were stretching up the last few inches between your face and his, pressing your lips gently against his own.

He was perfectly still for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, almost three. Then his hand tightened around yours and he pulled you closer, trench coat rustling where your chest met it. He kissed you the way you remembered the first boy who’d ever kissed you – a boy in your year level at school, at a party, playing spin the bottle no less – had kissed you. The want was all there, the enthusiasm and anticipation and the only half-conscious desire for more. His lips remained shut, but you could feel in it that he knew it wasn’t quite right.

You pulled away briefly, just enough to raise a hand to his mouth and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Like this,” you murmured, pushing just enough to part his lips. Then your hands were in his hair and you were pulling him down to you, and this time it was perfect.

He made a little sound of pleasure as your tongue slipped beside his, stroking, caressing, gently as you could. Without any guidance, his hand had found the cloth-shielded contours of your breast, tracing the outline with a sort of awe. His fingers ran along the neckline of your top, dipping under the material, curving around your bare shoulder, exploratory and cautious.

You let him explore you, his hands mapping out every curve he could touch, tongue darting into every uncharted depth he could find, tasting and learning and discovering parts of you you hadn’t guessed could be felt like this through just a kiss. Your mind spiralled as his hand eased under your shirt, cool fingers tickling the skin of your hip. He squeezed gently, pulling you against him harder, and you gave in completely. You weren’t sure if it was what he had been going for, but when you pushed your pelvis against his he gasped; a quiet, shuddering little sound that went straight to your panties.

“Ok?” you breathed between kisses, then, at his nod, you did it again.

His voice was strangled when he said your name, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist. Oh Cas, you thought. A rush of affection washed over you at how eager he was, where just an hour before he’d been being literally pushed out the door by Dean, looking as terrified as you’d ever seen him at the prospect of sex. Now he was kissing you hungrily, kneading at your skin, inching your shirt up off your torso, his feet at risk of tangling with yours as he walked you backwards. Not to mention the increasingly noticeable bulge pressed against you.

“Clothes off,” you breathed, already undoing his tie. “On the couch.”

He paused, then he was shrugging off the trench coat, the blazer following suit – no pun intended – and landing with a soft rustling thump on the floor. You stepped back, just a little, as he deftly unfastened the buttons of his shirt, drinking in every inch of skin like a kid in a lolly shop. Fuck, maybe you had the hots for him even worse than you’d thought.

“Are you going to undress too?” The question was mild, matter of fact, but something in the way Cas had paused midway through relieving himself of his pants and was watching you, hands still on the belt buckle, made you stomach flip.

You cleared your throat, but your voice still came out too low, too husky. “Sure.”

His gaze didn’t leave you for an instant – apart from when he kicked his discarded trousers aside – as you pulled your shirt the rest of the way over your head, slid your jeans as gracefully as you could down your legs. You shivered slightly in the cool night air, acutely aware of your hunter’s body.

Cas’s eyes widened, scanning over you and taking in every inch of your skin. It wasn’t perfect, you were aware of that. It wasn’t like a hooker’s body, it carried you around as you fought monsters, and was littered with the proof of said monster fights. You wondered if Cas had seen other – normal – human bodies like this, if he’d find the painfully obvious reminders of your mortality somehow repellent. You suddenly felt very, very small and very, very human.

“Sorry about… y’know…” You shrugged, patting your thigh awkwardly. “The meatsack’s a little dinged up. Most people don’t look like this.”

“Don’t look like what?” he frowned, finally looking back at your face.

You shrugged again, poking a long white scar over your side. The first werewolf you’d ever come face to face with, and nearly the last. “Scarred. At least not as much as I am,” you added.

A shiver shot up your spine as Cas settled his hands on your bare waist, fingers running over the most noticeable marks. “Don’t apologise,” he said softly. “You’re human, and you spend your days killing monsters. It would be more disturbing if you were unblemished.”

You laughed at that, a small breathy sound. “You think I’m disturbing?”

He smiled faintly. “You’re not so bad.”

You felt your own mouth curve, matching his. “Neither are you.”

He leaned down, his lips meeting yours once more. This kiss was softer, more intimate, maybe a little too intimate. You were vaguely aware of the couch behind you. Before your knees knocked against its side, you broke away – a difficult task, given that Cas chased your lips like a lab rat after cheese – and spun, laying your hands firmly on his chest.

“Couch,” you muttered, giving a gentle push.

He pulled you with him as he sat down, his hands running down over your hips, your thighs, back up again to your waist. He watched you carefully as his touch slid up the centre of your torso, over your bra, lingering momentarily on the anti-possession sigil tattooed over your heart before he moved on, across the line of your ribs. Unbidden, the memory of the last time he’d touched you there sprang to mind; the sharp, burning pain and throbbing after-ache of the Enochian sigils being literally carved into your bones.

“I can see them,” he whispered, as if he’d read your mind. “The sigils.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How do they look?”

“Foreign,” he said after a moment. “They don’t belong.”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond to that. Sure, the sigils weren’t part of you, and you didn’t exactly know how you felt about angel writing being carved into your ribcage, but there was also something reassuring about knowing it was there, knowing you carried that kind of magic with you. In you.

Cas’s eyes lifted from your body, fixing on your own. “Can you feel them?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Not really. Not physically. But I know they’re there.”

“Perhaps I should have asked,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s your body, after all.”

“No,” you smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I kinda like the idea of you scribbling on me. Bone graffiti.”

“Bone graffiti?”

You felt the smile grow, nodding. “Besides,” you added, “I’ll always have a little bit of you, even after you're gone. Like a… souvenir.”

“Oh,” was all he said. You supposed people were right about impending death making people sappier. But still, what you said was true. Your own ribs had become a kind of lucky charm, a talisman, a locket of sorts.

You dragged yourself out of that line of thinking before you went any further, turning your attention back to the angel currently underneath you on the couch. Underneath you and very shirtless. You’d placed your own hands on his chest in an attempt to not fall over on top of him, and now you let yourself touch him – really touch him. His chest heaved under your fingers as you swept over him, a tiny, strangled noise falling from his lips.

“Alright?” you asked, pausing for a moment.

He nodded, shifting slightly under you. “It’s good,” he said softly.

“Keep going?”

Again, a nod. Cautiously, gently, you spread your fingers over his chest. His heart beat fast, thudding frantically as you moved your other hand lower, down the centre of his torso, following the contours of his lithe muscles. You reached the waistband of his underpants, pausing.

“Can I?” you asked, your hand hovering over his barely concealed erection.

“Yes,” he whispered, tongue darting over his lips. His eyes flicked from your face to your hand, back to your face again.

You smiled as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his underwear. His dick was hot to the touch, hard and already damp at the tip. “You ever touched yourself?” you asked as you withdrew your hand, spitting into your palm.

Cas’s breath hitched. “Once.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips again. “Dean said I wasn’t supposed to talk about it.”

“Yeah, well…” You smiled again, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking languidly. “You can tell me.”

He gave a sort of half gasp, half moan, his grip tightening on your thigh. “I found Dean’s magazine,” he confessed. “The one with the women, not the cars.”

“Mhm?” You kept your voice mild, focussing on the steady motion of your arm and wrist, your fingers sliding effortlessly over him. You could almost see Cas flipping through the pages of one of those god-awful porn mags Dean insisted on carting around, picture his confused little head-tilt and his frown as he looked through the pictures, his hand creeping to where yours was now, his much larger fingers circling–

“It was uncomfortable,” he continued, jerking you back to the present. “Too hot. I really just wanted it to go away.”

“And did it?”

“Not until I– oh!” He broke off as your thumb slid over the leaking head of his cock, fingers digging into your thigh.

You fought off the surge of heat the sound sent shooting through you, watching his slightly parted lips, his wide eyes. “Did you cum?” you asked evenly.

“Yes,” he panted, hips twitching up slightly. “Oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Yes, you did cum?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Was it good?”

Another soft moan, then he smiled. “Not as good as this.”

Maybe it was the praise, maybe the moan, maybe the smile. Either way, the words went straight to your panties. You ignored it, stopping yourself from grinding against him with willpower that would have impressed Jesus. Although, you weren’t sure how he would have felt about you fucking a literal angel.

You leant forward, kissing his lips gently, then his jaw, then his neck, then his chest. You kept going, tracing a path inexorably downwards, shuffling backwards to straddle his thigh as he shifted with you, now splayed along the couch lengthways.

“Help me out,” you muttered, your hand moving beside your face as you attempted to pull his underwear off. Obediently, he lifted his hips and kicked them aside, the muscles of his stomach twitching as you placed a kiss on the junction of his hip. And holy shit, you could have just watched his torso moving like that forever. You kissed his hip again, sucking gently at the spot, licking over the mark you conjured. Then you added another beside it, and another, and another. A little belt of hickeys across his pelvis.

“Do you, hm, touch yourself too?” he asked, breathless and raw.

“Fuck, Cas.” You paused where you’d been about to kiss the base of his cock, raising your eyes to his. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell again, the skin almost glowing in the dim light.

He frowned. “Am I not supposed to ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” you assured him, kissing the little trail of hair below his belly button. “And yeah, I do.”

“Does it feel good?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Do you…” He paused, searching for the words. “Do you want to do it now?”

“This is about you,” you said softly, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I want you to feel good too.”

You sat up, studying him. There was nothing by sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire – and desire there was – for you to enjoy yourself. And why shouldn’t you indulge that? You were having a great time as it was, and there was no denying the throbbing ache that had grown exponentially between your legs.

“You want me to touch myself?” you asked, double checking.

He nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Ok.” You shed your own underpants, shivering as the cool air came in contact with your wetness. Slowly, you reached down and ran your finger over your clit, your breath hitching in your chest. You repeated the action, your hand moving further down to circle your entrance, slick gathering on your fingers. You’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t ashamed of it. Masturbation was natural, it was a perfectly normal perfectly human thing to do. This, however was different. You’d never had an audience before, never had anyone watch you with such rapt wonder and awe.

Cas’s eyes flicked down to your bra, then back to your face. A question, almost a request.

“Off?” you asked, already reaching behind your back. He nodded, watching carefully as you shed the garment and cast it aside to join the pile of clothes on the floor. Slowly, reverently, he stretched up and kissed your breast, his hand leaving its place on your hip to trace over the other one.

A shiver ran down your spine and you bit down on your lip, attempting futilely to stifle your moan. Absently, your hand resumed its place between your thighs as Cas’s hand left your chest and found its way to his cock. You’d never in a million years have thought you’d be where you were now; touching yourself on top of an angel touching himself while he did his best to turn your chest into one giant hickey. You were hardly complaining.

Something rustled in the next room over, and you both froze. Fuck, you thought. Dean was still (hopefully) asleep, only the wall and the hastily closed door to that room barring him from hearing you. Cas seemed to have had exactly the same thought, his head tilted slightly as he listened, his breath raising goosebumps on the spit-damp skin of your chest. There was another rustle, then a quiet snort, then nothing. He hadn’t woken, then.

“We gotta be quiet,” you whispered. You shifted, biting back another moan. “Ok?”

“Ok,” Cas nodded. He pressed his lips firmly together, eyes flicking down to where your hand disappeared between your legs. You hissed as you resumed your movement, acutely aware of every possible sound you or Cas made, ears pricked for any other disturbance from nextdoor.

Cas’s free hand was still resting on your thigh, firmly holding you in place on top of himself. His wrist brushed your own with every stroke of his cock, the skin over his stomach and chest twitching ever so slightly. His own thigh tensed as he thrust into his hand, something that you could only describe as a whimper falling from his lips. Heat surged over you, your mind awash with desire. If only that hooker knew what she was missing.

“Sorry,” he muttered almost immediately, eyes darting towards the door.

“‘Salright,” you replied, swallowing hard. Being quiet was a much more difficult task than you’d anticipated, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the possibility of being caught just a little bit. You grunted softly as your finger brushed over a particularly sensitive spot, the familiar rhythm and movements working just as well as ever, and even better when you had Cas to look at. Not to mention the warmth of his mouth where it occasionally found your breasts again.

But you wanted more, you needed more. The same part of you that was electrified by your own touch craved his, especially when his beautiful hands were right there and his eyes were still fixed on you like you were the centre of the universe, his own movements becoming faster and more frantic, chest heaving.

You paused, much as it pained you. “Do you wanna go further?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Gently, you laid your hand over his and peeled it away from his cock. Wriggling forwards a little, you finally – finally – rocked your hips over his, revelling in the hot hardness of him against your slick. His mouth fell open, fingers tightening on your own.

“Here, Cas. I want you inside me, wanna fuck you properly.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighed, his own hips matching your movement.

“Will you let me? Let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Yes, of course.”

You smiled. “Ok, one second.” You reached over the side of the couch, digging through the pockets of your jeans until you found your wallet – and the little foil package inside it.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as you tore it open and set the latex atop his dick.

“It’s a condom,” you explained. “So I don’t get pregnant. No offence,” you grinned, “but I don’t really wanna have your babies any time soon.”

“Oh.” He swallowed, processing. “That’s… understandable.”

“All good?” At his nod, you slid the condom the rest of the way down, spitting into your hand once more and resuming your earlier ministrations. “It feels a little different, I know,” you whispered as you moved to grind against him once more.

“It’s still good,” he assured you, placing his hands gently on your hips.

You smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The word was a breath, nothing more, but it was all you needed. Carefully, you lined him up and sank down, watching his face carefully. His eyes widened, his fingers digging into your flesh slightly as a deep groan reverberated through the space between you.

“Gotta be quiet,” you reminded him, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. “Don’t wanna wake Dean up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoed, “quiet.”

You leaned forwards and placed a soft kiss on his lips, rocking your hips over his. He was everything you’d imagined and so much more. It was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. You wanted to go back in time and kick your past self for having waited this long.

“God, Cas,” you sighed. “Oh God.”

His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he stretched up and captured your lips with his, moving down over your jaw to your neck, sucking gently just as you’d done to the skin of his hip. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close against you as you lifted and lowered your hips, a faint whine somehow slipping from your lips despite your best efforts.

“Is this, hm, ok?” he asked, his usually gravelly voice made even more so.

“Fuck,” you gasped as his hand came to rest on your ass, kneading at the soft flesh, moving up over the front of your hips where your leg met the rest of your body. “So good, Cas.”

“You’re so good,” he murmured, guiding your movements gently. He thrust into you, his hips meeting yours halfway, stomach muscles flexing.

“Let me,” you said, pushing him backwards into the couch cushions. “You relax, yeah? I’ve got it. I’ve got you.”

He nodded, head tipping back as you bounced on his dick, the rough fabric of the cushion beneath you scratching at your knees. Fumbling slightly, your hands found purchase on his chest and you locked your elbows in an odd sort of imitation of CPR. If CPR was done from the front rather than the side, you supposed, but you weren’t exactly doing any resuscitation.

His chest heaved under your touch, another low groan seeming to echo in the otherwise stillness of the night. The tiny part of your brain that wasn’t totally consumed with the wonderful pleasure-ache of his cock hitting deep inside you and the burn of your thighs was torn between telling him to be quiet and just listening to him, but then he was licking his lips again and his mouth was falling open and you were lost.

“(Y/N),” he panted, his eyes fixed on your face. “Oh, (Y/N), oh my–”

“Alright?” you asked, biting back a moan as you found a particularly good angle.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s, hm, so good.” He glanced momentarily down at where your body met his, another groan rumbling in his chest.

“Sh–” you whispered, half tempted to press your hand over his mouth. Or maybe your own, given the struggle you were facing to remain quiet yourself.

“Sorry, sorry I–”

You cut him off quickly. “It’s alright Cas, you’re fine. Just, fuck–”

“(Y/N),” he panted, the muscles of his arms and stomach flexing as his fingers gripped the couch cushion, luminescent in the dimness. Again, his eyes flicked downwards, this time to the soft mound of flesh currently on display.

You smiled, reaching down to take his hand, drawing it up to rest over your pelvis. His skin was warmer than you’d ever felt it, faintly clammy and God his hand was big under your own. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d caught yourself picturing his hands in this kind of context, and you didn’t want to try. His fingers splayed over your skin, moving with you, covering the whole space below your naval.

“That’s where you are,” you panted. “That’s where I can feel you, Cas, right there.”

A small, strained noise you could only describe as a whine. “Is it, ah, good? Do you like it? Do you like feeling… me?”

“Fuck,” you sighed. “Yeah, sure do, Cas. Do you like feeling me?”

He smiled, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Of course. I like it immensely.”

You felt yourself clench at his words, and this time you were unable to restrain the downright pornographic moan that tore from your throat. Any other time, you might have been embarrassed, but Cas seemed to like it. Pressing your lips firmly together, you glanced hastily towards the other room, but as far as you could tell there was no disturbance.

“(Y/N), oh, (Y/N), I don’t think—” He swallowed hard, eyes wide and back on your face.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t— I don’t think I can be quiet, (Y/N) I—”

Affection bloomed alongside the desire in your gut, and you had half a mind to tell him it was alright, he didn’t even have to worry about being quiet at all. It wasn’t like you didn’t love the noises he was making. But Dean was only one room over, and you didn’t want to wake him.

“You can, Cas,” you breathed, “you can. You’re doing so well already, we just gotta— fuck.”

He’d bucked his hips up into you, the movement jolting the steady knot of pleasure forming low in your stomach. He was close, you could see it as much as hear it, but the thought of the thin walls and your friend sleeping in the next room over had taken root more firmly in your mind now.

“It’s so much,” Cas gasped. “Oh, oh, (Y/N) it’s so much—”

You managed a smile, slowing down your movements a little. “I know,” you said softly. “You’re ok, yeah?”

He nodded frantically. “Hm, yes, yes. Please, don’t stop. Keep going, please—”

Another soft moan slipped from your mouth, Cas’s answering groan enough to make your legs shake. It was too loud, and any other time you’d have soaked up his praises and curses and everything, but not now. After a moment’s hesitation, you clamped your hand firmly over his mouth, sh-ing him gently. If possible, his eyes widened even further and he groaned against your skin.

“Alright?” you breathed.

Another frantic nod, an almost-whimper as your grip firmed up. Well I’ll be damned, you thought vaguely. Who’d have guessed he was into that?

You felt him shiver all over as you continued to rock your hips over his, his hand where it rested on your hip tightening. You wondered if you’d have finger-shaped bruises later. It didn’t matter, you told yourself as he moaned again, his stomach muscles tensing, something that could have been your name squashed under your hand.

“Sh, shh!” you gasped. Between holy shit I’m so close and holy shit he’s so close, the thought that Dean was right there and would hear you was still rooted in your mind. “Cas, sh, Dean’s right– ah, fuck, Dean’s–”

You broke off as Cas’s chest heaved, his hips bucking up into you once more. His mouth had fallen open under your hand and he was gasping something, angel curse-words, maybe? It didn’t matter, not when his eyes were screwed shut and his head was tipped back, your name sprinkled into the litany of foreign words like a prayer.

The sight was enough to make the bomb that had been building in your stomach explode, sparks of pleasure shooting through your aching legs right to your toes and back up again. You might have said Cas’s name, you weren’t sure, but the sentiment was there. You clamped a hand over your own mouth, nothing but the need to be quiet reverberating through your pleasure-blanked mind.

After what felt like an age, your brain managed to find its way back into your skull and the aftershocks of your orgasm faded from your body. Gently, you removed your hand from Cas’s mouth and looked down at him, smiling.

“Alright?” you asked.

His hair was a mess, his brow lightly beaded with sweat, cheeks flushed. There was even a slight red mark where your hand had been, which you stroked gently.

“I’m more than alright,” he smiled, turning to place a tiny kiss on your fingers. “Are you?”

“Good,” you nodded as you slid off him, mourning the sudden emptiness momentarily as you peeled off the condom, tying it in a neat knot to be disposed of later. Then he was lifting his arm, wriggling with you as if he could read your mind, and you were being cocooned against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, “if I was too loud.”

“You weren’t,” you assured him quickly. “Not at all. Sorry about… gagging you. I should’ve asked. That’s not what usually happens.”

He hesitated, turning to meet your eyes. “I… didn’t mind.”

“No?”

He shook his head, a small, nervous smile dancing across his lips. “No. In fact, I quite liked it.”

You felt your own smile widen as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, taking his hand where it rested on his chest. “Good,” you said. “What about the rest? What do you think?”

He sighed, a beautifully satisfied noise that flooded you with warmth. “I think I should not have waited this long.”

You laughed, pressing closer. “Mhm?”

“Mhm. Thank you, (Y/N), truly.”

“Oh,” you said softly, turning away to hide the blood rushing to your face. “That’s ok, Cas. Thank you.”

He gave another little hum, shifting to drape his arm over your waist and pull you into him, fingers skimming your ribs. Getting spooned by a divine warrior of God, you thought with a thrill. Real life really was stranger than fiction.

“You’re tired,” he murmured, his voice seeming to rumble through you in the best way possible. “You should sleep.”

“Hold on,” you protested as you felt his arm withdrawing. You grabbed his hand, pulling it firmly back down to rest on your stomach, wiggling closer. “There was a blanket on the back, grab that. I’m staying here.”

You could almost feel him frowning when he replied. “You’d not rather a bed?”

You only hesitated a moment before bending to kiss his arm. “I’d rather you.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say to that, but after a beat something heavy and slightly scratchy was being draped over you, and Cas’s arm was tightening around your waist, and his lips were pressing against your shoulder.

“G’night,” you whispered.

“Good night, (Y/N).”

It was Dean who found his two friends curled together on the couch the next morning. He snorted, taking in the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders in tandem with Cas’s, his hand enveloping your smaller one where it rested just above the blanket, the assortment of what was very clearly Cas’s suit and your own clothes scattered over the floor. Well, he supposed, the night hadn’t been a complete failure. He had half a mind to throw something at you, the scene was so jarringly… sweet.

“Rise n’ shine lovebirds,” he called instead, “we’ve got shit to do.”

#supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #castiel x you #supernatural fanfiction #shameless smut #supernatural smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cas x reader #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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babiebom · 1 year ago

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When You Fall (VIII)

A/N: i got the sweetest message from someone(idk if they’d want me to call them out) and somehow it made me want to start on this chapter so I guess it literally just takes someone being nice for me to actually do something lmao. Also happy new year!! Also also whenever I’m writing one of these chapters and the tumblr notif shows up it jumpscares me. Like how do y’all know?

Tw: depression, reader decides to force themself to be happy, cursing. The usual

Wc:3.0k

Previous Next Masterlist

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you attempted to clear some of the farm from debris. It was taking long to clear everything, and though you knew that most of the land would be unused until you actually got enough money to plant more things and get a coop or barn.

Shadow ran around wildly, barking happily as she snapped her teeth at the air. It’s funny, watching her as she runs. Getting pets didn’t make being in a depressive pit completely go away, but they did make that pit less dark, less daunting and lonely. Mango lazed around on the porch, his tail slowly waving side to side as he watched you.

Sticking your rake into the ground and wiping the sweat again, you grin at your animals, letting out a labored breath. “Okay, so, I love you both very very much. And I’m sorry that I can’t take you but they’re hosting an Egg Festival in the town and I’m going.”

You move to sit on the porch, Shadow dashing to crash onto your lap. You open your arms and let her move her big body onto you with a roll. “And I swear I’m not going to enjoy being away from you both, but I have to go as part of my healing. I’ll be back soon.” Neither one of them did anything other than stare at you and then go about their own business as you get up and head inside to shower. Shadow trails behind you after a moment, her tail wagging so hard her butt wiggles along with it. You take one last glance at her as you finally get in the shower, hoping the day goes by quickly.

Walking into the town’s square, it’s like a decorating bomb went off. There are banners and decorative flags and other things littered around in a way that made you think whoever decorated spent way too long out here only for them to be messed up by the wind. There’s so many layers of tape that you feel irritated for whoever had to fix it.

“Farmer!” Pierre calls out from behind his booth. You want to ignore him, not really ready for social interaction but go over to him anyways. Forcing a smile onto your lips you lean on the booth counter, looking at the things he has stocked.

Some strawberry seeds, lawn flamingos, plants, a painting, a bright pink banner, a plush bunny, and a….decorative pitchfork? What kind of stock is this? What does this have to do with the egg festival? You blink a couple times and attempt to control the look on your face, maybe you could buy a couple of strawberry seeds. Even if you don’t plant them this season you can always wait. “Hey Pierre! Selling some good stuff?”

He smiles and moves his hand around, gesturing to his stock. “Yeah, looking to buy anything?”

“Sure…a couple strawberry seed packets…and that plush bunny.”

“It’s pretty cute huh? Okay that’ll be 2,500g.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. 2,500g? The man has to be insane! What the fuck costed so much that you were being charged this much? “Yeah, prices are a little steep. But I have to make a living somehow,” he chuckles when he sees your expression. You try hard to keep your face in check, not wanting to snap on the man in front of everyone. You were here to make progress, not to make enemies.

After giving him the money you take your new things and stuff them into your backpack. The letter said the festival ended at two, and looking at your watch it was only 9:30. That meant 4 and a half more hours of agony trying to force yourself out of a depressive pit that you aren’t really all too sure you’re ready to leave just yet for the sake of getting better.

Well, at least there’s food…

Hurrying along, the sight of the buffet table makes your mouth water. Not eating breakfast and working all morning in a large field without totally knowing what to do is a bad idea, but now that you’re looking at all the different types of food you can’t help but praise yourself for how lucky starving yourself got you. Now you can eat, then when you get home you can pass out and sleep until tomorrow. Like another rest day that feels like a reward after running around in the dirt.

As you fill your plate with food, you can see Gus and what’s his name…’Clive?’ You think to yourself, nose scrunching in confusion, ‘No, that's a stupid name. Carl? It has to be Carl…what other C names are there?’ In your thoughts you almost drop your plate and gain the attention of the two men, Gus smiles brightly and waves you over while the other man averts his eyes. Weird…

“Hey Gus!” You smile warmly at the older man. There was a twinge of stress in his eye, but it seemed rude to point that out to him. His eyes moved over the rows and rows of food and it occurs to you that he must have cooked almost everything himself being the Towns Saloon owner and all.

“Hey farmer! I was just telling Clint here…you’ve met Clint right?”

You shake your head at his question. You had only seen him around maybe once and heard his name in passing from the blue haired girl who was talking to him when you passed by and from Maru when you were in the clinic. Thank Yoba Gus said his name or you would’ve been stood awkwardly just like you are but more so because you wouldn’t have known his name. “Oh well, he’s the towns blacksmith…anyways I was just telling him how I hope everyone’s enjoying the food. I’ve been cooking for days to get the food ready.”

“Days? Wow thats a lot of work…”

“Yeah I made fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs, deviled eggs, scrambled eggs, chocolate eggs, you name it!”

“I mean it is the Egg Festival…”

“Yeah, not to mention the other foods. I’d be upset if it turned out horribly.”

You take a bite of whatever was on your plate in front of him, trying to make a show of how good it is, but not really needing to act because WOW can this man cook. How’d he even make this? His eyes light up at your expressions and mannerisms, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of you enjoying the food. “No Gus, I swear this is amazing! You don’t need to worry about anyone not enjoying the food at all!”

“Thank you for the kind words, Farmer, it means a lot to me.”

You nod vigorously, not wanting to ignore him but now overcome with the urge to stuff down as much of the food as you can. What the fuck was in this? Drugs? You can’t even remember the last time you were this hungry.

With your plate you walk around, smiling at anyone who talks to you, and try to carry on conversations that you didn’t really care much about. It had been weeks since you moved here, and you were just now meeting everyone personally. There were so many people living here in Pelican Town that you wonder how you had managed to avoid 60 percent of them whenever you ventured out.

As you make your rounds to the buffet table for the second time, the sight of a bright red cape catches your eye and the man with the eyepatch flashes in your mind. You hadn’t seen him since that day, but you had to find out what those stupid jelly things are.

“Marlon!” You call out, rushing to the man in the corner. He looked surprised that you were speaking to him, but made no moves to walk away or ignore you. Instead he looked slightly pleased. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement, “I could say the same about you, don’t hear anything about you going around.”

You shrug and realize that just as much as you stick to your farm, he must stick to the caves and mountains. Neither bad, but awfully lonely when you think about it. You wonder if there’s anyone he lives with up there. “I just thought that you would prefer to be adventuring or something…like in the caves?”

“Yeah, but even with my bad leg I never miss a festival.”

“Oh…say you know down in the caves how there are…things right?”

“Yeah the monsters?”

“Yeah um, have you ever seen the little Jello creatures? They’re really tiny and all but are like really strong for some reason, and jump at you like they’re legless spiders?”

“The slimes? Yeah you have to be careful with them. They might be easy to defeat but can quickly overwhelm you if you’re not careful.”

He frowns at you and you swallow. That’s exactly what had happened. The stupid things were just too much the more you ventured down. But you’d be ready for them next time, and whatever else is down there. “Yeah, they kinda kicked my ass last time I went into the caves.”

He nods solemnly, as if he could relate. Maybe he could relate, having a bad leg and an injured eye and living up there. There had probably been times that he’s gotten overwhelmed and hurt. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. If he could get hurt down there, and you have already been hurt, who’s to say that you won’t just die the next time you go down? It’s weird to think just how lucky you truly were when you were saved.

Thinking of being saved…your eyes flit around quickly trying to spot the man that had saved your life. Maru and Sam had said that Sebastian had gone down into the caves himself to save you, and even though you hadn’t seen him personally since meeting in the Saloon, the need to thank him was always in the back of your mind. And now you have the chance, Yoba you wished you were home.

You bid goodbye to Marlon and shuffled your way to the trio standing off at the bottom of the town’s square. Rehearsing what you’re going to say in your head, you hope that it would be a quick conversation, that you wouldn’t stutter over your words and that you wouldn’t act so awkward that they think you’re weirder than you are. But as you clear your throat as you walk up to them, regret settles in your belly at the looks on their faces. It was like being in school all over again and the kids that you thought were cool were too tight knit as a group and hated outsiders.

Before you could say anything Abigail speaks first, staring straight at you. “Do you think I’m too old to do the Egg Hunt?”

You frown at her in confusion before shaking your head. “No?”

She punches Sebastian’s arm as soon as the word leaves your mouth. “Ha! I told you I wasn’t too old. It’s like, why stop if I’m having fun?”

“How are you having fun searching for eggs with actual children?”

“Hey! Searching for eggs is like going on a treasure hunt! Besides, your sister does it too!”

Sebastian rolls his eyes at her, looking towards the river without saying anything more, choosing to sip on the punch in his cup. Sam looks like he’s suffering and you tilt your head, silently questioning him. “Ugh…it’s my doze…allergies.” His nose is so stuffed up that his words seem heavy. You wince at him and nod in understanding, Springtime wasn’t the best for people with allergies.

Sebastian clears his throat after a minute. “You know what I miss? The rotten egg toss.”

Both Sam and Abigail agree quickly, words coming out both of their mouths too quickly for you to really understand anything they’re saying. They’re very enthusiastic about it, recounting things that happened in previous years. In your confusion you look over at Sebastian, and he swallows his drink quickly. “We used to do a rotten egg toss, a couple years ago. It was only for like two years, Mayor Lewis put an end to it pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, too many people complained that it stunk.” Abigail laughed. It sounded pretty fun, tossing rotten eggs at a target or something, but the smell…ugh.

Before you could say anything else, Sam says he’s going to get more food before the egg hunt starts and they put everything away. Abigail looks between you and Sebastian and smiles. “I’ll go with him, either of you want anything?”

You shake your head, plate still full from the second round. “Maybe some punch? If it’s not too much trouble?” She shrugs and looks at Sebastian who just hands her his cup. She leaves without another word and without turning back. Ha…now it’s awkward…

“I didn’t think you were one for socializing.”

You’re surprised at his words, but think that in a small town there are rarely secrets. Everyone must know that you’re suffering. “Yeah um, just had a bad couple of weeks. I’m better now, though, ready to mingle and become part of the town…being alone is no good.”

He snorts, glancing at you and your heart stutters in your chest. Did he think you were joking? Were you that obvious in your dislike of talking to others? “Yeah sure…been there once.”

You don’t ask him what he means, understanding that he’s seeing right through your fake chipper exterior. For a minute the silence stretches on, but it’s not as tense and awkward as it was before. Maybe it was a good thing he could tell you were faking, there was no need now that it was only you two. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“For?” He sounds disinterested, but when you look at his face he seems more…uncomfortable.

“You saving me? Your friends told me you went down into the caves to get me.”

“Fucking…yeah. It was no problem. You should be more careful, though, I was only able to help because I noticed that you didn’t come up.”

“Yeah…I really should…anyways. Thanks for saving me, hopefully you won’t have to do it again.”

He shrugs and says nothing.

“I owe you one.”

“Sure.”

The mayor claps his hands loudly, speaking into a megaphone that he’s holding. “If anyone is participating in the egg hunt, gather round. It’s almost time to begin!”

“You participating?” He asks, and for a second you almost say no before remembering that the whole point of coming was to become part of the community and bettering yourself.

“Yeah…you?”

“Nah…”

You nod and cough into your fist, unsure of how to separate yourself from him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you…later?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m either at home, or at Sam’s or the Saloon during the weekends…”

“Okay, cool.”

You walk away quickly, confused as to how you had somewhat made a friend of him? There was that saying that misery loves company…maybe he was the perfect person to be miserable with. He seemed like he had problems himself. Mayor Lewis claps a hand onto your shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing you to wince. “Enjoying yourself, Farmer?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s good! It’s about time you introduced yourself to the townspeople. Everyone was so excited to meet the new farmer in town and you just…disappeared. They thought you were a recluse or something!” He lets out a laugh that makes you frown. You had forgotten how much this guy could talk.

“Yeah well, family deaths will do that to you.” You keep your face straight as you stare at him. He coughs and sputters out some words before the conversation is effectively ended.

After another minute and a half the egg hunt begins and your heart starts thumping in your chest. The kids are already running off, and Abigail is darting around so quickly that you think that she’s going to knock one of them over. Looking at the other participants, the urge to beat them overcomes you. Winning at this means that you’re officially part of the community right? You’re putting yourself out there?

Your feet move without another thought from you and soon enough your basket is full with eggs. Looking at the others it seems theirs are too. You can hear Lewis counting down from ten and your heart races even more. How were you supposed to win this? You run across the square, hoping to get one last egg.

Five…

Where are the rest of the eggs? What the fuck is there no more?

Four…

In the corner of your eye something yellow gleams under the sun. An egg! Near the river!

Three…

You dash towards the egg, hand stretched out towards it.

Two…

A couple more steps to go, you’re unsure if you’ll get there in time.

One…

Your hand closes around the egg and into your basket it goes. Your heart thumps and your breaths come out uneven. But you made it! The last egg.

Lewis calls everyone back towards the center of town, eyes gleaming as he looks at everyone’s baskets. He seems happy to see more people participating in a dying tradition. There were only two kids in town so an egg hunt is bound to get boring as everyone gets older.

It takes five whole minutes for Lewis to count everyone’s eggs, yours being the last basketbhe gets his hands on. “Nine…ten…” Abigail groans in annoyance next to you. “Eleven! The winner is the Farmer! Come up and get your prize!”

Prize? If you knew there was going to be a prize you wouldn’t have tried so hard. Now someone was going to be mad at you for winning instead of them. You walk slowly to Lewis confused as to what he could be offering.

“Enjoy!”

He hands you a straw hat…well at least it’s helpful?

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shalegas34 · 1 year ago

Photo

(Original post from 2015)

I did another updated group photo of these guys this week and I am SUPER PROUD of both how much these characters have developed, and how much less I suck at drawing now :’)

The little details I can give them now they have personalities are sending me: Aurizon’s scars, Orica’s tattoos, Bega’s crocs, Libby’s steeltown cover outfit, Sydney’s wifebeater, Fortescue and Spark’s non-anime hair… the glow ups are endless lol

There are a couple of lineup changes because a few of the old characters are now dead to me, replaced by more interesting ones. From left to right:

Spark

Bega

Macquarie

Sydney

Aurizon

Orica

Fortescue

Sandfire

Sal

Libby

Adbri

There are so many stock baes now I felt it was time for an updated group picture :P For anyone who’s new around here/can’t remember who they are half the time (like me tbh, I regularly have to count them in my head so I don’t forget any):

1. Spark (Spark infrastructure/SKI) 2. Fortescue (Fortescue Metals/FMG) 3. Spark NZ (SPK) 4. Aurizon (AZJ) 5. Auckland Airport (AIA) 6. Bega (Bega Cheese/BGA) 6. Sydney (Sydney Airport/SYD) 7. Sandfire (Sandfire Resources/SFR) - being tackled by Fortescue (Fortescue+Sandfire = otp ♥) 9/10. Aristocrat (Aristocrat Leisure/ALL) 15. Orica (ORI) 80. Macquarie (MQG)

#9 out of 11 of these guys now have full tragic backstories spanning 6 novels #I’ve done so much on them these past few years its actually bonkers to look back at my baby comics lmao #the one that’s developed the most is Aurizon - they’ve gained a FULL character study which is like 150k words of insanity #Sydney and Macquarie are my favourite ship overall (cannot go past OG sydmac) but Libby and Adbri are so wholesome lol #then there’s the whole Orica/Fortescue/Sandfire drama which has also gained a life of its own through the other characters eyes #idk if I could ever write something from orica’s perspective but like I said in my last post I’m very interested in trying Sandfire’s #Orica is a bit too mary sue to be a main character though she is the one who’s featured in the most stories overall #Even my baby Bega has been fleshed out in sydmac backstory part 2 #stock baes #artists on tumblr #art comparison

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f1nalgirlz · 1 year ago

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Valentineseve | Jack Thurlow

[ This one is porn w/o plot so if you want fluff it is NOT here ]

˗ˏˋwarnings´ˎ˗ fem pronouns, fem anatomy, implied cheating, unprotected sex, sex with a stranger, Y/n is morally gray, Jack is basically an asshole lmao, slight age gap but it's only mentioned once i think?

˗ˏˋcontent´ˎ˗ car sex, creampie, Y/n is sad, Jack is married, a **LITTLE** angst because ofc there is

1 hour ago, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n jammed her hands into her jacket pockets, a sigh leaving her lips as she cut down the Valentines aisle. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the holiday, and her mood was not helped by the many other visitors that were crowding the aisle, looking for the perfect gift for their lover. Y/n had nobody to shop for, and didn't intend to change that anytime soon. She only came here because she needed some chocolate to drown her sorrows.

As people filed out of the aisle, she worked her way further into it, chewing her lower lip as her eyes examined the tall shelf in front of her. The shelves were all stocked full, and Y/n had the pick of the litter. There was a wide variety from the different brands, but they all had the same effect on her, memories of her last relationship flooding her mind with bitter feelings. She had no intention of ever getting into a relationship again, but she liked chocolate too much to let an opportunity like this pass.

Y/n scanned over the many chocolates as her mood grew more somber. What did she really have to look forward to anymore? She let out another long sigh, and tried to focus on the task at hand. She scanned over the shelf again, and tried to pick one at random, but the variety was honestly overwhelming. Her sadness slowly faded away and was replaced with annoyance as the realization finally set in. She had no clue what to pick.

With a sigh, Y/N took a step back, hoping to get a better look at the contents on the top shelf, but she was met with something sturdy hitting her back. She quickly turned her head to look behind her, where she was met with icy blue eyes staring back at her. She'd just bumped into someone. Heat rose to her cheeks and her stomach twisted in embarrassment. "i'm so sorry." she said to the man.

The man she had bumped into was tall, his long messy brown hair framing his pale face. He was attractive, and seemed to be a few years older than her. He had a sharp look in his eyes, like he was trying to determine her state of mind. Yet, there wasn't any hint of anger on his face. His eyebrows relaxed and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. "it's fine, accidents happen." he said warmly. All remnants of embarrassment melted away and she smiled.

Present, Tuesday, February 13th

Y/n's chest heaved against the seats of the dark haired man's car, the man whose name she came to find out was Jack. Lewd sounds filled the car, the sound of skin slapping skin as well as the wet sounds coming from her cunt. A choked moan escaped her throat as Jack pounded into her, his hand gripping her hair. After a few more thrusts, a gasp slipped her lips at the feeling of his cock being pulled slowly out. She felt strong hands grasping her skin and moving her body, flipping her over. As her back hit the seats, she was staring up at Jack, whose blue eyes were trained on her red face. He looked more disheveled now, brown strands sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead. Without a word his hands were lifting her legs to rest on his shoulders, once they were firmly in place, he used his index finger to tug her wet panties to the side once again. He smirked down at her, wet doe eyes staring back up at him, before thrusting his cock back inside without warning, punching a moan out of her. A husky moan filled her ears.

She heard a few expletives escaping Jack's lips in mumbles as he started pumping in and out of her already soaked hole. Y/n's head tipped back, falling against the seat, her hair bunching up under her. She only glanced down when she felt hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into the soft skin of them as he hammered into her with fervor. Her eyes actively avoided the gold band that Jack sported on his left hand, instead choosing to focus on the way he was currently hitting every right spot inside her, sending chills down her spine. Lithe fingers found their way into Jacks messy hair, tugging slightly as he continued his eager thrusts, leaning forward to catch her lips in an aggressive kiss. Teeth nipped her lip before being soothed over by his tongue, it felt like he wanted to devour her whole, and she'd let him.

Jack pulled apart after a few moments, a string of spit connecting the two. Y/n's body felt hot, a familiar tug in her lower stomach as her cunt clenched uncontrollably around the taller man's throbbing length. She sucked in a shaky breath, eyes growing watery as she looked up at Jack hovering over her. "you gonna cum?" he asks, almost teasingly with a smirk, before a grunt leaves him. Y/n nodded quickly, head falling back against the seats once again, a guttural moan being forced out of her as Jack kept his pace, fingers finding her clit with ease. Tears pooled her eyes Jack pounded her cunt, using his left hand to abuse the sensitive bundle of nerves. She forced her eyes open, looking up at Jack through blurry eyes. "Gonna cum..." she choked out, hips rolling into his movements lasciviously, earning a chuckle from him.

"Yeah? Cum for me." he whispered into her ear with a smirk, that's what sent her over the edge. Y/n's body shook at the intensity of the orgasm, Jack never stopping his pace, letting her fully ride out her orgasm. A few low moans left him at the way her cunt pulsed around him. That's all it took to send him over the edge, one last sloppy thrust and he was releasing into her, teeth sinking into her collar bone making her roll her hips against him. He groaned, throwing his head back as his hips slowly came to a still. Y/n was still coming down from her high, chest heaving with each breath as she laid there with her eyes closed. Soon, she felt fingers pulling her panties back into the correct placement, opening her eyes she looked up at Jack who was already cleaning himself back up. Y/n took the hint and sat up. She began slipping her pants on and pulling her shirt back into place. "I have to go... but i'd really like to see you another time." Jack's voice pulled her from her autopilot. She nodded at him, allowing him to help her out of the car, stealing one last glance at the inside, not being able to stop the way her eyes caught the bag of Valentines gifts in his passenger seat.

Jack pecked her cheek one last time before climbing into the drivers side seat and starting the car. Y/n walked away, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach.

this is not proof read yet, it's probably ass but😰 i'm keeping my word and doing BOTH since that was the result of the poll.

i don't own the two dividers used creds to: @gigittamic

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mumms-the-word · 9 months ago

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Forearms

Pairing: Gale x Tav (Dani) Summary: Set immediately after this fic about Dani settling into a new life with her companions on the road, Dani offers to mend Gale's robe. Which involves him having to take it off, naturally. (no smut, just Dani being ridiculous about Gale's forearms) A/N: This is 100% the moment where Dani is like "oh no he's hot." She thinks everyone is hot, but this is the moment where Gale starts to rise above everyone for her. It's silly, it's stupid, and I wrote it like months ago, but y'all asked for it lmao also yes this does adhere to the Gale Wrap Shirt Theory (I just borrowed Astarion's shirt because I don't have mods)

Dani stretched out her back and got to her feet, leaving behind her now-sorted camp supplies to make her way over to Gale and his cooking fire. She peered down into the pot before looking at Gale. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Stew,” Gale said, smiling apologetically. “I hesitate to give it any more of a descriptor than that. Oh, and a few leftover loaves of bread, too. Might as well use them up before they go bad. I think one of them was starting to mold…”

He said this last line to himself, turning to rifle through the box that contained most of their food. He pulled out a small, torn half-loaf of bread and examined it, turning it this way and that before tearing it and peering inside. Dani reached over and plucked the smaller half from his fingers, claiming it for herself. She tore off a bit and popped it into her mouth.

“Seems decent to me,” she said.

Gale looked briefly alarmed before shaking his head, amused. “You’d probably eat it even if it had mold on it.”

“Not true. I’d scrape the mold off first and eat around it. Wouldn’t be the first time.” She raised her eyebrows at him as she pulled off another bite of bread to eat, silently challenging him to judge her.

Gale made a face but didn’t respond, turning back to his stew and flicking his wrist. The spectral mage hand that was stirring the pot lifted the ladle for him to inspect. He picked up a small spoon from his utensil set (of course he had a utensil set wrapped in leather, a hodgepodge set he’d collected over the last couple of days, but that he kept packed away like it was some sort of adventurer’s kit) and used the spoon to taste the broth in the ladle.

“Hmm…nearly there, I think,” he said. He let the mage hand go back to stirring while he wiped his spoon on a bit of cloth he had tucked into his belt. “Gods, what I wouldn’t give for my spice shelf. Or just some extra salt.”

“Just add it to the list of things we’ll buy as soon as we see any,” Dani said, still eating her bit of bread piece by little torn piece. “I know I have a running list of my own.”

“Far be it from me to add to your growing shopping list of potentially expensive and ever practical items,” Gale said dryly, “but if you do happen to find a small case of salt, or any spice really, I think we’d all be a little better for it. It shouldn’t detract too much from your funds. I know you’re careful with your money.”

She arched an eyebrow. As the team’s craftiest barterer, she was in possession of most of the money, and her companions had already watched her haggle and cajole until a price was a bit closer to where she’d prefer it to be. Sometimes it took a minute.

She thought about pointing out that she was “careful” with her gold for a variety of reasons, including stocking up an emergency fund for magical items should his arcane hunger trigger and she find herself without something to give him. But she stayed silent, watching him pull a few herbs from their food box and set them on a flat rock he’d taken to using as a cutting board. He sat with the rock in his lap, cutting the herbs up with a dagger that he kept on hand for food preparation. As he turned to hold the rock over the cookpot and brush the chopped herbs into the stew, she noticed a bit of white peeking through his purple robe sleeve, right at the shoulder seam. A tear in the fabric.

“Take off your robe,” she said.

He jolted, nearly dropping the rock and dagger directly into the stew. “I beg your pardon?” Maybe it was the firelight and the darkening shadows of dusk, but Dani could have sworn his face was suddenly pinker than before.

“Your robe,” Dani said, tossing the last bit of bread into her mouth and holding out her hand. “Take it off. You’ve got a tear.”

“Wha—a tear?” Gale looked all down his arms and the front of his robe before twisting his neck to spot the rip in his shoulder. “Argh, damn. This was one of my better robes, too…”

Dani snickered and gestured for him to get on with it. “Come on, hand it over. I’ll fix it for you.”

“What—now?”

“Why not? You’re busy. Everyone else is busy—well, except Astarion. And I can mend it for you.”

Gale looked a little surprised. “I didn’t know you could mend.”

She shrugged. “My mother is a seamstress and I used to help her out every now and again. Plus, when you’re on the road, you have to keep up with a few skills. You’re just lucky we have a bit of needle and thread on hand. So.” She gestured again with her hand.

Gale squirmed as if uncomfortable. “I’m sure it can wait. The stew is nearly ready and we’re all about to dress down for the night. I can give it to you then.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Gale. If it was armor Lae’zel would be hounding you until you gave it up for her to fix. If it was your spellbook you’d want to mend it as soon as possible. Just take it off and let me do it.”

“Fine, fine.” He held up his hands, his face still a little flushed, but he acquiesced. He undid the belt around his middle and tugged off his leather bracers before finally untying the robe and shrugging it off. He still looked a little sheepish, but he willingly handed the robe over to her.

The moment the robe was off, something shifted in Dani’s mind. She realized only then that she’d only ever seen him either fully dressed in his robes or in his velvety lounge clothes, but never in just his white wrap shirt and high-waisted pants. She paused a moment, her eyes roving over his form. In just his shirt, pants, and boots, he cut a trim figure, looking a bit like one of the handsome men drawn on the covers of tawdry romance novels she used to read back in Baldur’s Gate. Especially when he set one hand on his hip and frowned faintly at her, his earring glinting in the firelight.

“I hope it won’t take too long,” he said.

She blinked. Oh right, the robe. “It’s a simple tear, super easy to fix,” she said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She turned and hurried away, her own face feeling a little warm. Was she honestly thinking…no. Well—maybe. Gale was handsome. No point in ignoring otherwise. But Gale in just a shirt and trousers? Or, perhaps, Gale in just his trousers…or, going further, Gale in nothing but—

Gods, Dani! She mentally shook herself and sat back down at her bedroll, digging her sewing kit from her bag. Now was not the time. She said she’d mend his robe and she would, so she had better get started.

But mending was mindless work for her, leaving her alone to her thoughts, so of course her mind drifted back to the subject of Gale as she dragged needle and thread through the purple fabric of his robe. Why was she only now struck by how handsome he looked? Sure, she’d flirted with him before, but she flirted harmlessly with everyone in camp. It wasn’t her fault she was surrounded by attractive companions. But Gale…

She glanced surreptitiously at him as he worked by the cooking fire, his focus on the food. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows to keep his cuffs away from the food, which was honestly worse for Dani. Rolled up sleeves and forearms? She could just swoon. She watched as he packed away unused food items and utensils, muscles in his forearms flexing, the dark hair on his arms made darker by the dusk and firelight. He stood back and rested both hands on his hips as he watched the stew, his white shirt stretching a little more tightly across his chest.

She bit her lip and focused back on the robe. Just get it done, girl, and then give it back so you can go back to thinking he’s just a fun, quirky wizard nerd and not the hottest guy in camp.

Oh gods, if only.

...was he the hottest guy in camp?

She glanced around quickly at Astarion, still lounging with his book. His lips made a pretty pout as he read and his hair was damn near perfect, but he didn’t make Dani’s heart flutter in quite the same way the sight of Gale in his wrap shirt and rolled up sleeves did. She searched for Wyll, walking around in his ragged black tank and black trousers, his biceps glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he carried the last of the firewood over to Gale. Even with his devil horns, he was an attractive man. Dani was tempted to think he was even hotter than Gale—until Wyll set the fire down near Gale and Dani was forced to compare the two of them again.

…damn. What was it about Gale?

Gale glanced her way, raising his eyebrows at her questioningly when he caught her staring. She felt her heart go ba-dump like some cliche heroine in a romance novel and she quickly lowered her gaze back to her work.

Damn it. It was his eyes wasn’t it? His big, stupid, wet brown eyes, made darker and richer in the evening light. That and those stupid forearms she’d never seen before.

She almost wished she could go back to fifteen minutes ago, when she thought Gale was “handsome enough” but not exactly tempting. Not with Astarion smirking at her from across the campfire and Wyll flirting with all of them, not to mention all the flirting she’d done with Karlach and Shadowheart and Lae’zel too. She forced her attention back on the final stitches, determined to get this robe fixed as soon as possible.

She finished the last stitch and knotted the thread, giving the fabric a little tug on either side of the mended seam to test the strength of her work. Not bad, she had to admit. It almost looked as good as new.

She looked back at Gale and then down at the robe. She should give it back. Right now. Immediately. But…then again…if she kept it longer, he’d have to walk around without it longer. Which meant more eye candy for her, in theory. She pursed her lips, glancing back at Gale again.

No! She had to give it back. Now or never, Dani!

She got to her feet and walked back over to the fire, his purple robe tossed over her arm. He looked up from the cookpot again as she stopped near him.

“All finished?” he asked. “You do quick work.”

“Thanks,” she said, holding out the robe to him. Be casual, Dani girl, don’t be odd. “I’m famished. How much longer until dinnertime?” Success!

“Any moment now, I suspect.”

He took the robe and examined the seams, running his thumb over the stitches. She was caught up watching his hands, admiring the perfect shape of his nails and how long and slender his fingers were. A pianist’s hands, she thought idly. An artist's hands. The kind of hands she'd want drawing patterns on her skin, fingers curling into her softer parts, sliding up her thighs to—snap out of it!

She sucked a short breath through her nose, trying to distract herself. Her gaze traveled up to his wrists, and then his bared forearms. There was a faint hint of ash lingering in his arm hairs from standing so close to the fire. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed it away. He looked up, surprised and she snatched her hand back, hiding it behind her back like she’d done something wrong.

“Sorry,” she said. “Just some—some ash. You should probably put that robe back on. As soon as possible, probably.”

Oh gods, she could just die.

Gale stared at her a moment before glancing at his arms again and then the robe. She saw something shift in his expression as his eyes came back up to meet hers, but she dared not interpret it. That, she thought, would be a dangerous mind game and her imagination was already working overtime.

“Well,” she said, and hated how weirdly breathless the word came out of her mouth. She cleared her throat. “I’ll go fetch the others, then, shall I?”

Without waiting for him to respond, she turned on her heel and hurried away, intending to go after whoever was the furthest away from the cook fire. Surely she’d cool off in the time it took to gather everyone. Fantasies were for bedtime, not right before dinner when the object of her fancy was right there.

But when she finally returned after all that, he was still standing in his wrap shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He hadn’t even put the robe back on. He laid it off to the side. She glanced at the robe and then up to Gale, who was ladling stew into bowls and passing them around. He caught her eyes and gave her a faint, intentional smirk meant just for her before turning his attention back to the stew.

That’s when Dani knew, with a rush of realization that struck her a bit like lightning and left her sitting, silent and dazed and a little offended and a little impressed.

She’d been as obvious as day, and now he was teasing her about it. And that smirk? He was being a bit of an arrogant bastard…but gods, he was suddenly all the sexier for it.

She was doomed.

#bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #my fic #my tav #dani #meridan zavrai #gale #gale dekarios #please enjoy this nonsense lol

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handmedownpocketpussy · 1 year ago

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So I read the Witching Hour... I knew Anne Rice was typically solid when it came to her political views, but wow this entire book is just a class commentary; it's das capital but horny as shit and with an incubus as an antagonist.

On its face it is just a spooky scary story about witches and their roots as disenfranchised feral wizards who, back in the day, accidentally called on a super powerful magic being, thereby turning into people who are absolutely corrupted by that power, as far as setups it's standard witchy fare, right?

But I love that the entire thing hinges on riches and money As SOON as the Mayfair family got money they used it to buy their way into the upper class, and that money 'kept coming back to them' maintaining them in the upper crust

As SOON as they became part of the upper class, they indulged in the fast track to winning capitalism (which at the time was, of course, owning slaves and a plantation, and later morphed into playing the stock market and owning land in various key places) Anne Rice really said 'subtlety? I don't know her' and I love that for her

So within the story it's made clear that the Mayfair family history, and therefore ability to know how this all started, was lost-- each subsequent generation was seduced by the $$$ bought by their last names into not investigating it further, just sort of benefiting from the endless fountain of riches, and seeing that quite-literally-haunted history as just fun facts about the family and how interesting it was but none of the modern Mayfairs have the motivation to investigate, to know more, because the ignorant rich are the rich who don't feel guilty about where their gains came from.

With Rowan, it deals with someone who is set up explicitly as someone who: doesn't know about the Mayfair family, doesn't care about sullying the name or not, is supposedly unable to sacrifice a single living being to help untold thousands, and is generally well enough off that she doesn't need/want more money. And yet, upon entering the deadly miasma that is the bourgeois (in this case the Mayfairs accepting her into the fold) she is instantly and inexorably succumbing to the quagmire of complete and total weath, power, and false sense of community. She is quite literally seduced by it, this strong, stone faced protagonist who seems unshakable at first a literal one-woman-island introduced from the decks of her single-handed command of her massive deep sea vessel is taken in and played like a fiddle because that's what wealth does

I think its quite a good book, even if it drags in the middle-- and yeah, is a bit dated, but in the end it's about hubris and class and power and even the weird quirks of the book showing black people only being mentioned in passing or as set dressing feels incredibly deliberate when the entire book revolves around the white landed gentry, in fact I think because the book is a few decades old now your biases of a 80s era book feed into where you think it will go vs where it does go

So yeah fun read, extremely horny (i mean duh it's anne rice), and a solid commentary on things, I'm shocked it got made into a show I'm not surprised i never heard of this show because i cannot imagine a 90s spooky scary telenovela about horny ghosts going well lmao Oooh i see there's tags for this subsection of the population, well hello! I am plopping this in your fandom I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#the witching hour #anne rice #mayfair witches #immortal universe

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fitzrove · 9 months ago

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Rant vaguely related to my previous rudolf post & academic history (delete later) (WAY too specific)

The way people talk about historical research fields and topics sometimes (online and irl) is honestly Really Stupid aihoådögltslhlgl. In designating "old white men history" (= political, military, macroeconomic...) and white men historical figures obsolete and unworthy of any further study, people are robbing themselves and others around them of greater understanding of phenomena that have real and ongoing consequences/effects upon the present day.

I told a former classmate I was studying abroad for a more varied perspective (instead of the boxed-in provincial narrative you get from just using sources, lit and theories from your home country) and that my new thesis was going to be about a ww2 topic. She made a disgusted face, glibly going "Ah, as if that hasn't been researched enough!". She wouldn't hear me out when I said that my topic actually has real life implications for politics, memory culture and international relations today lol.

To some people, just because a field has been researched a lot (and often with outdated methods, by white men in the 1950s etc), it becomes worthless and you should rather look at unexplored territory: people "forgotten by history", marginalised groups, new approaches, big emphasis on the social, cultural, personal, individual. But for a few reasons, claiming that studying "old white man history" in the 2020s is "useless" is very flawed lol. Because:

In a lot of cases, The Book on something (be it a specific aspect of a topic, an individual person, or just a topic as a whole like WW2 for instance) will have been written in the 1950s, 1960s, 1970s... Research methods have evolved a LOT since then, and the demands on researchers to reflect on their biases are a lot stronger now. Historical research doesn't exist in a vacuum and is never completely objective - it's a self-correcting field, though, and new studies aspire to build on and improve upon previous ones. You wouldn't trust medical research from 50+ years ago to be the best possible knowledge on a given topic to be trusted forever and never re-examined, would you?? Why would you a history book, then?

Old white men are the ones who had power for vast lengths of time in history. In many countries old white men are still the ones in power. Political and military history, as well as macroeconomic history, are (in summary) about the study of power. You can't gain knowledge of how "the enemy" (or: those holding the power in society) operates only by studying the way their "victims" experienced their influence. You need to look into the people in power themselves. And someone needs to do this now, with modern research methods, so we have the best possible knowledge of the subject! Additionally, modern old white men often stan historical old white men and might make rhetorical references to them in speeches etc... It's important to know how they conceptualise the world and its history, because so far they're not going anywhere...

People are so dumb akgösphkpd like they will hear "political/military history" and not even know how much the fields have changed and evolved in the last 30 years 😭😭😭 Its based on this stock stereotype of what those fields are, when in reality the sharpest criticism of previous approaches comes from within the field - which seeks to self-correct. Again, you wouldn't assume that physics ended with Einstein...... why assume that historians can never improve their methods or reach new conclusions based on already-studied sources??

Putting pressure on women specifically to only study social/cultural/microhistory, and insinuating that they're betraying their gender if they don't, is just straight up sexist lmao. You don't expect this of Matt age 21 who loves tanks and literally just wants to study idk tank formations, why do you expect it of me?? Ditto for queer people and any other marginalised group you could think of.

As for Rudolf specifically? Yes he sneaked in again fkflld. It's worth it to point out his problematic relationships with women, yes, and SPECIFICALLY the historical agency and existence of those women outside of him lol. (Which is still a bit lacking.) But it's not smart or feminist or even morally right to avoid looking at where the Mayerling obsession as a whole comes from. The fact is:

1. Rudolf had very specific unpopular political opinions, and suffered from mental illness (a kind of disease poorly understood at the time but also still decades after the fact and even today)

2. These two factors led society to perceive him in a certain way, and influenced the way newspapers wrote about him after his death. Conservatives put huge emphasis on his womanizing ways - as part of his general depraved evilness, incl irreligiosity, liberal politics and lack of respect for traditional values - to influence their audience to believe that violence and insanity are what social liberalism leads to. They also used the events of Mayerling to say that the scandal is the only thing that ever mattered or ever will matter about Rudolf, that it tainted his person to such a degree that considering anything else is moot. This is the starting point for the most common Mayerling narrative that has literally barely changed for 135 years... it still crops up in media today!!

So um yeah anyway,,,, I guess I'm sorry for being specifically interested in war as a culmination of international political crisis & historical eras seen as formative to current political culture & 19th/20th century opposition to and manifestations of political nationalism & the way in which seemingly apolitical things are actually used to shape public discourse... instead of idk queer history or women's history or historical dress or microeconomic family history 😭😭 I just think there's enough people studying those latter ones and doing a much better job of it than I could - because they're genuinely passionate about them and hence have the right skills to actually study them well. I still believe that the way I'm studying and talking about the stuff I'm interested in has a lot of value, even if it's not contributing to Good Representation or aligned with my modern political views in any obvious sense. (Well, a constantly recurring theme is my distaste for overt forms or nationalism/(proto)fascism lol but we don't need to tell people that 😌 esp not the current Finnish government)

Also rudolf was irl bisexual did you even read eine orientreise (JOKING)

#history #jfc this is long akksldldld #delete later

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the-cult-of-russo · 2 years ago

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Just Beneath The Flames (Part 8)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: I’ve only just finished writing chapter 9 of this story and it’s been like pulling teeth with how unwell I am. B12 anemia is no joke lmao I’ll be posting it tomorrow obviously, but I’m not sure if chapter 10 will be done in time for the day after or not. It depends on how inspired I am and how I’m feeling.

That being said, thank you to those that are still enjoying the story!

—-----------------

The sun was only just rising and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you leaned against a tree just outside of Frank’s camp. You weren’t sure if winter had started, and you hoped it hadn’t, or if you were on the cusp of it. Either way, it was starting to get a little too cold for your liking. The camp not too far away was silent and you knew they were asleep. If you had to hazard a guess, you thought it might be around 6 or 7 am, but you really had no idea. You knew not everyone in the camp would be asleep, they took watch shifts over the night to make sure they didn’t get caught with their pants down. That was one thing you missed about being in a group. There was a safety that came with knowing people were keeping an eye out when you slept. It was harder to get a good night's sleep when you were on high alert, having to be ready for anything with no one to watch your back. You waited for about five minutes before Billy sauntered through the trees. He looked a little more rumpled than usual, clearly not having time to style his hair. You’d mocked him once about him having perfect hair, even in the apocalypse and he’d given you a smirk and the line; ‘Hey, the world mighta gone to shit, but it don’t mean my looks have to’. You really hadn’t expected any different from him. This morning though he seemed to be up earlier so his hair was slightly disheveled. He had on a forest green sweater and a leather jacket pulled over it, his usual jeans and boots on.

“Ready?” you asked, eyeing the bow in his hand. You’d left yours back at the treehouse and you felt like you’d left your pants at home or something, it was weird. You’d been using it a lot more recently, with all the hunting you’d been doing but you’d also been going on more runs with the guys. It had been a little over a week since the whole ‘almost getting set on fire’ fiasco with Karen and you’d been more than happy every time Billy asked you if you wanted to join him on a run as they stocked up for the colder months. Karen had even been on some too, Frank by her side of course, but even you could see a difference in her. She seemed so much lighter having more freedom like that, even if Frank hovered over her like a worried mother the entire time. And luckily, no one else had tried to kill you while you were out so you started to feel a little bit better about the whole thing. Billy nodded at you and you both started walking away from the camp.

“You’re sleepy today,” you mused with a teasing smile as you glanced at him. He wasn’t usually like this. You knew he could run on little sleep, he’d told you it was something he picked up in the Marines.

“Had watch last night,” he murmured, blinking rapidly as if to wake himself up a little. You stopped walking and gave him a look.

“Billy…” you started with a firm tone and he tilted his head at you.

“Y/N…” he mimicked your tone, a sly smirk spreading on his lips that told you he might be waking up a little and you squinted at him.

“You didn’t tell me you had watch. You can’t hunt with no sleep,” you huffed. The day before you’d agreed to take him hunting, or more accurately, you’d agreed to show him where you’ve been finding the deer so he could hunt. But he hadn’t mentioned anything about having watch last night or you would have suggested tomorrow instead. Sleep was a precious commodity now and those who took the night shift, usually slept in the morning so they at least got some sleep.

“Watch me,” was his defiant reply, smirk still in place before he continued walking. You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might stay up there before catching up to him.

You wound up in the general area you’d been finding deer and just hung back, letting Billy do the work. He’d not bagged a deer yet but you knew he really wanted to, hating every time you did like it was easy. You never really set out to find a deer though, it usually happened by luck. You had a feeling to Billy, this was more of a manly ego thing and he’d assured you in the past that he knew how to track so you wouldn't get in his way. It was odd to be the one tagging along for a change and not hunting. You had to admit that while you felt a pang of sadness every time you killed an animal, it did have a primal satisfying feeling to it, your animalistic human nature coming to the forefront. And it had only intensified since you no longer hunted just for yourself. It filled you with pride every time you were able to bring something good back to the camp and you guessed that was the feeling Billy was chasing. You stayed silent as he walked around, stopping and crouching to examine the tracks every now and again. You knew from looking yourself that a deer was recently here and you hoped he’d find one. The silence between you was kind of weird. Usually your time with Billy was full of chatter, small talk or banter. The man didn’t know how to shut up sometimes but you loved it. You’d been alone for so long and it had been an adjustment going back to having to interact with people and it made it easier when the other person initiated the conversations. But now, you were both silent as not to spook any deer that could be around. You trailed behind him, your footfalls soft and quiet when you heard a groan. Both you and Billy glanced back and you saw a roamer stumbling towards you and you heaved a sigh, annoyed that it might scare off the deer. You nodded to Billy to keep going before you walked over to the dead one, grabbing the front of its shirt to drag it closer before you rammed your knife into its eye. You pulled it back out with a sickly squelch and it fell limp on the floor. You really hoped there wouldn't be others around. You quickly turned around and moved to catch up with Billy, seeing him standing still between some trees with his bow poised. You stopped dead as you saw the deer, almost like a statue so you didn’t scare it away. You watched intently as Billy lined up his shot, blowing out a slow and steady breath before his arrow went soaring into the deer. He got a good kill shot and the deer only made it two steps before it died. You were glad and you were impressed. You knew he was good with his guns and knives but you’d never seen him use his bow before. You’d admit it was a little hot.

He turned around, a wide and smug grin on his face as he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“Told you I could do it,” he smirked and you snorted, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second,” you grinned cheekily at him, making him scoff with a smile. He looked radiant with his pride as he sauntered over to the deer and tied it up before hauling it over his shoulders and you started your trek back to your place where you’d prep it.

“So… if I’m Artemis, who are you?” you asked half way through the walk, glancing to him.

“I’m Blackbird,” he snorted like it was obvious and you gave him a look.

“I’m talking about Greek Gods, dumbass,” you muttered and he gaped at you for a second before a laugh fell from his lips.

“Oh, is that right, dumbass?” he asked with a playful look and you grinned.

“I think you’d be Ares,” you mused thoughtfully and his lips quirked up a little at your words.

“The God of war,” he murmured, shrugging a little.

“And courage,” you added, flashing him a smile when he looked at you. He smiled and it looked slightly bashful as he looked away.

“I can live with that,” he uttered, peering at you with a smile. When you got back to your tree, he plonked the deer on the floor under it where you usually prepped the meat. He sat down and you followed suit, sitting beside him as he started to prep it. You decided to sharpen your knife while he worked, not wanting to just sit there and do nothing.

“You comin’ tomorrow?” he asked, looking at you curiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. An extra pair of hands never hurt, right?” you asked ruefully and he grinned. Some of the guys would be going on another run the day after. They needed gas and Billy suggested the highway from hell where those assholes had taken the van. There seemed to be a lot of gas there and you remembered how many supplies you found in the cars and you’d barely even gone through any of them. It would be a good scavenge and with more of you going, it was less likely something bad would happen. You liked how Billy would always include you in on things, always invite you. He knew how restless you got and he was making sure you didn’t have to deal with it much.

“Just make sure you get some sleep this time. You might be a good shot but I can’t imagine you’d be any good on two days of no sleep,” you murmured wryly and a smirk curled his lips.

“You’re real bossy, you know that?” he grinned and you huffed, glaring at him but with no real malice.

“I’m the bossy one? Really?” you asked plainly and it only made his grin widen.

“And you’re a little mean too,” he muttered, faking a put out face.

“Aw, you gonna go tell Frankie on me?” you asked mockingly. He gaped at you, a shocked smile playing on his lips.

“Nah, you know what? I’m gonna tell Karen,” he smirked mischievously.

"I always knew Karen was the one to be scared of,” you muttered and he snorted at you.

You both sat there playfully bantering with one another until the deer was prepped and you helped him salt it and put it into bags. Since you rarely had dinner by yourself these days, you didn’t bother taking any of the meat he offered you. It felt pointless as you both knew you’d be eating with his camp. He seemed to have a pep in his step as you both walked back and the closer he got, the shit eating smile on his face only seemed to widen. You knew exactly how this was going to go and Billy proved you right the second he walked into camp.

“Guess who bagged a deer, assholes!” he called out gleefully, all eyes turning to him. Leo covered her mouth with a smile at his cursing as Sarah gave him a look.

“You did?” Zach asked with a smile.

“You bet I did,” Billy smirked and Zach came over to him,

“Uncle Billy is so cool!” he gushed, looking like he was facing his hero and it made you smile a bit.

“Damn right I am, little man,” Billy grinned, high fiving him.

“Wow, you’re so smug about it,” Karen murmured with an amused look on her face and Billy turned to her with a raised brow.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Can’t a man be proud he bagged a deer. Don’t you know what it means in this economy?” he asked with a patronizing smile and Frank snorted.

“Yeah… you finally got a deer after how long of tryin'? I mean, Y/N bagged two deers before you and she probably woulda got that one too but she let you have it. It’s a pity deer,” Frank said mockingly and Billy looked like someone just smacked him in the face, his jaw hanging open as his dark eyes bore into Frank who was grinning.

“A pity deer?” Billy asked slowly, eyes narrowing to slits.

“Woah, man. He’s calling your manliness into question,” Foggy commented but it was clear his tone was teasing yet Billy’s jaw tightened a little. You found the whole thing amusing.

“You think I can’t get a deer on my own?” he asked accusingly and Frank was still grinning at him and you guessed he loved to push Billy’s buttons as much as you did.

“Well… you had to have Y/N show you where they were so…” he trailed off and you bit your lip to stifle your laugh as Billy’s right eye twitched.

“The last time we had a fight, I put you on your ass in two seconds,” he commented condescendingly.

“I was already injured, man. Wasn’t a fair fight,” Frank shrugged. Billy glared at him before taking a deep inhale through his nose and shaking his head.

“You know what, no deer for you,” he said with a raised brow, pointing at his friend.

“I think Y/N should get a say in that since it was technically her deer that she gave you,” Frank smirked and Billy looked ready to strangle him. Frank turned to you then and your lips curved into a smile.

“What you think, Y/N?” Frank asked, mischief twinking behind his eyes.

“Well… Honestly, I think you’re being really mean to Billy so I have to agree with him. He’s a very manly man and it’s unfair to try and say otherwise,” you teasing words made Frank bark out a laugh, yet despite your obvious playfulness, Billy grinned widely, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his side as he gave Frank a smug look.

“See, no deer for you,” he smirked. He didn’t mean it obviously and Frank got his deer just like everyone else after Karen cooked you all dinner. She was the one who cooked the most and you’d offered to help but not only was it not really a hard job, but she hated people trying to get involved and getting in her way.

That night, you lay under your pile of blankets as you struggled to get to sleep. You thought that with you being so busy and going out to burn off your restless energy that you’d sleep better but for some reason, you’d been having trouble. You were fully clothed, even down to your boots, a habit you’d picked up when you were out on the road traveling by yourself so you could get out of situations easily without having to take the time to get dressed. You hadn’t been able to shake it, even with the safety of your treehouse. You wondered what it was that was keeping you awake, there were so many things it could be. Maybe it was a combination of all of them. You were worried about Sarah. She seemed fine enough right now and she wasn’t exactly new to being pregnant. You were concerned about the birth mostly though. Curtis would be the one to deliver the baby and he’d asked you if you’d help. You were a vet and sure you’d helped animals give birth before if they needed it, but this was different. Your worry about needing a c-section or her having a more complicated birth was only exacerbated with the knowledge that her previous kids had been born via c-section. The whole thing was stressing you out because no amount of preparing and getting supplies in would help if something unexpected got thrown yours and Curtis’ way since you weren’t obstetricians. There was also the added stress of the newborn phase and you weren’t quite sure what you were all supposed to do when the baby cried all the damn time to avoid the dead coming at you in swarms. You knew they had everything they needed, you and Karen had taken care of that and all the items were now safely locked away on the back of the black van as they weren’t needed just yet. You were still dealing with those confusing mixed feelings of being part of a group somewhat, having moments of blind panic when you realized how attached you were getting to people and the very real possibility they might die like everyone else you knew. Life was a lot easier for you when you had nothing to lose. So much stress came along with caring about people in a group. Another thing that had been playing on your mind was your brother Sam. You knew he would have loved Frank’s camp, he would have loved all of them. He’d probably have gotten on well with Micro as Sam was a computer nerd too. It made your chest ache to think about him and a bitterness flowed through your veins at the thought. It wasn’t fair that he wasn't here. Why did you get out alive and he didn’t? Why wasn’t he the one here right now, meeting Frank and Billy and everyone else? It felt wrong. The last thing keeping you awake was Billy. The more time you spent with him, the more you realized that your attachment to him was a lot different to the others. You found yourself watching him when he wasn't looking, admiring him no matter what he was doing. You’d smile to yourself if he was happy and smiling, finding a warmth blooming in your chest that you hadn’t felt since the old world. The idea of getting actual feelings for someone in this world was terrifying and you’d been trying to ignore acknowledging it like the plague because it wouldn’t do anyone any good. It was hard enough caring about people as friends without deeper feelings being involved and you knew you were being stupid. You weren’t quite sure just what it was about Billy that lured you in like a moth to a flame. Sure, he was attractive, stupidly ridiculously attractive, easily the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. You knew it wasn’t just that though. You could deal with it if it was just a surface level crush, you wouldn't worry so much about him and that's what was bothering you. The worrying, the caring, the potential to be devastated if he died. Somewhere along the way, you’d bonded with him deeper than you’d bonded with the others and your brain had decided that meant you needed to catch feelings for him. You hated it and you hoped it would go away.

You lay under your mountain of blankets, your eyes drifting to your backpack that was near the open doorway as you considered doing a crossword to pass the time. You’d found a crossword book on one of the runs you’d been on with the others and it had been useful to pass time when your mind wanted to wander down a dark park. But as you considered if you were too lazy to get up and get your bag, you heard a weird thumping noise and you tensed up. You wondered if it was the wind since it had been picking up in the night recently, maybe a branch was hitting the treehouse. But then movement at one of the open windows at the other end of the treehouse drew your eyes to it through the black darkness. You made out a silhouette climbing through the window and your whole body seized up. Maybe it was Billy paying you a visit, he’d never done it at night but it wasn’t like he could climb up the ladder since you always pulled it up when you were up here. But you knew you were being hopeful and stupid because Billy wouldn’t just turn up unannounced in the middle of the night and climb into your treehouse like this. And you knew you were right as you carefully looked at the shadow of a man who was shorter and wider than Billy. You didn’t move, not wanting them to know you were awake and your eyes darted to the knife you’d set over near your bag. You didn’t think you’d need to sleep with it strapped to you anymore but the false security of the treehouse had fooled you. The man crept towards your ‘bed’ and you could hear your heartbeat whooshing in your ears, but then it felt like it stopped all together when you saw the gun in his hand catch the moonlight. You jumped up, tackling him and catching him off guard. You pushed his arm up and the gun went off, the bullet going right through the roof as you tried to fight with him. He was bigger and stronger than you though and he tossed you to the floor across the treehouse and you groaned, refusing to go out without a fight.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” the man growled as he grabbed you by your shirt and yanked you up like a ragdoll.

“Fuck you,” you bit out ferociously as you kneed him in the nuts. He cried out with a curse and let you go as he cradled himself and dropped his gun. You swiped the knife from the floor, the pair of you near the doorway and he grabbed your shoulder, whirling you around. You used the momentum to swing your arm and your knife buried itself under his jaw and right through his head. His eyes went wide as he blinked at you, his mouth opening but nothing came out other than a garbled wet noise. You yanked your knife back out as you glared at him and blood poured from the wound. As he went limp, he fell out of the doorway, but as he’d been tangled with you, you ended up going with him, your boot catching the strap of your backpack. Your stomach flipped around like you were on a rollercoaster as you plummeted to the floor. The man landed with a thud, you landed on top of him and while it softened the blow, you heard a sickening crack come from your ribs. You gasped, pain radiating from your ribs outwards and you rolled off the now dead man onto your back. Each breath hurt and your eyes welled with pained tears. You were pretty sure you just cracked or broke a rib or two and your head hurt like a bitch after cracking into him with the fall. The pain made you feel dizzy and you struggled to get to your feet, knowing you had to get out of there. The last thing you expected was for someone to turn up where you slept to try and kill you and through the shock, you felt the bitter sting of stupidity eat at you. You were a fool to feel so safe, to think things would be okay. You’d let your guard down and now you were paying for it. You got to your feet, swaying as a hand cradled your beat up ribs. You saw your backpack, the only silver lining in the fucked up situation as your ladder was still up there and there as no way you could climb with the pain you were in.

You looked at the man, blinking through tearful eyes as you noticed he was wearing a coat with an eye painted on it like a logo. You remembered Billy and Frank talking about the guy from the store that day who held Billy at gunpoint and how he wore the same. They mused it was something to do with Rawlins so this didn’t fill you with hope that you’d gone under the radar. You’d tried to reason with yourself that the fire thing had been to get at Karen since Frank loved her and you’d just been collateral. But now they were targeting you all alone and it worried you. Anxiety stabbed you then as you thought of the others. What if the men had gone after them too? You slowly bent down to get your bag, idly thinking of the gunshot and how it might attract the dead here. You snatched your walkie, stepping backwards a little away from the man. You heard the metal bang before you felt the pain but then a fiery hot pain burst through your right leg and the loudest anguished yell tumbled from your lips before you were able to stop it. You blinkled down at your leg to see it caught in a small bear trap that you knew for sure hadn’t been there before. You really couldnt believe what the fuck was happening to you and you realized these guys really liked to have plan B’s in case the plan A fucked up. The pain was immense and worse than your ribs, the spikes from the trap deep into the flesh of your calf and blood was oozing around them. You wobbled on your feet, your injuries and pain making you feel like you were about to pass out and you fell on your ass, crying out as it tugged the bear trap as it fell to its side along with you. You felt like you couldn't breathe and tears streamed down your face in rivulets. You tried to ignore the pain in your ribs as you leaned over, trying with all your might to get the bear trap off you but it wasn’t like you’d ever had to do this before. You didn’t know how to disarm a bear trap. You cried softly, sniffling in anger as you tried and failed a few times. You fell back onto your back, wincing with every heaving breath you took and your vision danced around you. Was this how you’d die? Out here in the woods alone, caught in a trap as you waited for one of the dead to find you? You refused to die like this, this wasn’t how you wanted to go out. You looked over at the walkie and strained to reach it, making your ribs feel like they were on fire as you did. You finally managed to get it and relief flooded your system as your head spun.

“Anyone here?... It’s Artemis,” you mumbled down the walkie, voice slightly slurred. You felt like you were on a merry go round at a rapid rate that wouldn’t stop.

“Blackbird here. What’s up?” Billy asked, a note of concern in his voice. You’d never reached out at night before. You felt more relief at hearing his voice. This could very well be the last you heard him if your body decided it was done before he got here. Or maybe the dead would find you first. You felt so tired, you didn’t think you could fight them off.

“Is everyone okay?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah… we’re good… Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked warily and you felt some relief that they were unharmed.

“I need help,” you muttered, taking a slow and shaky breath as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What is it? What happened?” he asked instantly, his concern shooting up to panic.

“I’m hurt… just come to the treehouse please, I’ll tell you when you get here,” you pleaded through your tears, voice trembling.

“I’ll be right there,” he said quickly and you sighed in relief, hoping he’d get here in time and not find you being eaten by the dead ones.

“Watch out for bear traps,” you murmured tiredly, your eyes fluttering shut again. He didn’t answer and you hoped he’d got the message as you lay there, fighting with your body so you didn’t pass out. It didn’t take too long before Billy sprinted through the trees with a frantic look on his face. He stopped dead, his eyes first landing on the dead man before his eyes found you laying on the floor with your leg caught in a bear trap.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, rushing over to you and falling to his knees. His dark eyes roamed over the bear trap as he looked like he was trying to think, his hands hovering uncertainly.

“This is gonna hurt, alright?” he gave you a pointed look and you nodded, eyes half lidded as you looked at him. He looked guilty and unsure but then he disarmed the trap, pushing on the springs carefully and pulling it open. You cried out as the spikes left your flesh and you felt the blood starting to pour out of the wounds.

“Shit…” Billy bit out, quickly shrugging his sweater off and then his t-shirt. He wrapped the t-shirt around your leg into a makeshift bandage, a deep frown marring his face as he tried to tie it around your leg to slow the bleeding down.

“What happened?” he asked. His voice was low and tight, his eyes not looking at you.

“He climbed up into the treehouse… tried to kill me. I stabbed him but he fell… I fell with him… then this happened,” you muttered sleepily, the darkness behind your eyes tugging at you. You felt a cold hand on your face and your eyes opened, seeing Billy’s face hovering over you.

“Stay with me, sweetheart, alright?” he asked, sounding worried as his dark eyes scanned your face.

“I think my ribs are cracked,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him. His frown deepened, eyes flitting to your torso before back at your face.

“We need to get you back to camp, get Curt to look at you,” he insisted as he moved to help you sit up. You cried softly at the pain as he held you and he looked so sad at your pitiful noises as he tried to get you to your feet. You couldn't put weight on your leg and when you glanced down, his gray t-shirt was already blood soaked and you wondered how much blood you were losing. Ideally, you didn’t want to remove something that was impaling you as it would stop the blood flowing too quickly, but it wasn’t like he could take you back to camp with a bear trap attached to you. You wobbled, his arm around you as you tried to hobble forward, but it only made another pained noise leave your lips. You’d felt pain a few times, having your throat slit had topped the list quite a bit. This was something else though. The pain in your ribs was intense and it seemed to fade into every part of your body. Your leg felt like it was being roasted over a fire, throbbing intensely.

“‘M tired… why’s it so cold?” you asked in a whisper, head lolling a little bit and making Billy look panicked and wide eyed.

“I’m gonna carry you, okay? It’s gonna hurt a bit but I’ll be as careful as I can,” he murmured, giving you a pained look as you nodded. You just wanted the pain to stop. He scooped you up bridal style and you hissed at how it jostled your ribs, making him apologize profusely to you. Once in his arms, he hurriedly walked back, trying his hardest not to hurt you too much. You snuggled against him, his bare skin touching you since he was still shirtless, his sweater left discarded on the floor. Your face was in the crook of his neck as you took a small inhale and let it soothe you.

“How do you smell so nice?... It’s the end of the world,” you slurred into his neck.

“You know me, I’m just perfect,” his teasing didn't have the same effect when his voice had a distressed undertone to it but you smiled anyway. You felt the darkness tugging at you again, luring you in as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the comfort of skin to skin contact coming from Billy.

“Stay with me, Y/N. You gotta stay awake for me,” he insisted, glancing down at you as his pace picked up. You could hear his heart thumping away at a rapid rate.

“I’m just so tired, Billy,” you whispered, not opening your eyes.

“Come on, Sweetheart, stay with me. You’re not gonna leave me like this, alright? I’m not losin’ anyone else,” he pleaded desperately but it fell on deaf ears as you passed out in his arms.

You were in and out of it when you got to the camp. You’d come to, hearing everyone rushing around and talking frantically before you passed back out. You woke up briefly a few times when Curtis was working on your leg, pained groans leaving your lips before your eyes would roll back and you’d be out like a light once again. When you woke up properly, you were in the tent you knew the children used. You felt weak, your head fuzzy and your mouth felt dry. You blinked tiredly at the ceiling of the tent before you glanced to your side. Billy was sitting next to you, his head in his hands.

“Billy…” you croaked out, frowned at the lack of moisture in your mouth. He sat up quickly, head snapping to you as relief seemed to hit him like a train. He had circles around his eyes and he looked paler than he usually did.

“Y/N… are you… you feel okay?” he asked hesitantly, scooting closer to you as his eyes darted all over your face. It was a hard question to answer. You were still in a lot of pain and you felt a little out of it, but you were alive and that was what really mattered. You nodded, blinking tiredly at him as he watched you.

“You don’t look so great,” you blurted, your head feeling too fuzzy to really think about insulting him like that. He didn’t look offended though, he frowned softly, his hand darting out and snatching your own as he held it tightly.

“You lost a lotta blood. I’m a universal donor so… Curt rigged somethin’ up to give you a transfusion,” he explained and it took your disorientated brain a long moment to digest his words.

“You gave me your blood?” you asked quietly, making him nod. You wondered how much you needed with how ill he looked.

“Thank you,” you murmured, trying to muster up a smile for him. He looked away quickly, blinking his glassy eyes rapidly.

“You gotta stop doin’ this shit. I’m gonna wind up havin’ a heart attack if you keep almost dyin’ on me like this,” he smirked, but it was weak and felt forced.

“What can I say? I love danger,” you drawled with a tired smile, echoing words he’d once said to you. He smiled then, a wistful and slightly more genuine one but then his face turned somber again, his hand squeezing yours.

“I… I just…” he trailed off and your hazy brain took in his anguished face and it made your chest ache, your brows creasing.

“I care about you… I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his shiny almost black eyes meeting yours once more. Your chest filled with warmth that wasn’t coming from the pain in your ribs and you smiled at him, your thumb rubbing his hand.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, I’m starting to think I’m in Final Destination,” you smirked and his lips quirked up a little.

“I need to just lock you away or some shit. You’re like a danger magnet,” he said wryly. You opened your mouth to reply but Curtis came into the tent. He looked surprised to see you awake but then he smiled.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N. We were all pretty worried for a second,” he grinned and you smiled at him. You moved to try and sit up, not liking being laid flat like you were but Billy stopped you.

“Gotta rest for a bit, not move so much,” he instructed as he grabbed a spare blanket and balled it up, putting it under your top half like a big pillow to prop you up a little. You give him a grateful smile, feeling better that you weren’t lying flat anymore.

“So… how bad is it?” you asked Curtis warily. Your brain still felt a little fuzzy around the edges but you were starting to feel a little more awake. The downside to it being the pain seemed to get worse. Curtis glanced at your leg, a slight wince before he looked at your face.

“Your boot saved your foot, it took the brunt of the worst of it. You almost ended up in the one legged club,” he said with a wry smile but his eyes shone with concern.

“I stitched you up the best I could and I gave you some of Billy’s blood. I’m not sure if your leg’s broken or not with no x-ray. If it is, it's not a full fracture, no bone sticking out or anything. Still might be a hairline fracture though. You need to keep off it for a bit and Matt and Foggy are trying to make a splint for you. Your ribs are cracked, I don’t think they’re broken,” he explained sympathetically.

“Thanks,” you nodded, feeling despondent at the knowledge you'd be out of commission for a while. Laying here doing nothing really didn’t sound appealing.

“I’ll go and see if they’re done with the splint so we can get it on you,” Curtis smiled before he shared a look with Billy and then left the tent.

“You’re gonna be stayin’ with us and you’re not gonna argue with me about it,” Billy said firmly, his face telling you he really wasn’t going to have an argument about it. You didn’t want to argue though. You loved your treehouse but you didn’t feel safe there now. It was tainted. This whole ordeal had shown you that you were also a target now and isolating yourself like you had been was dangerous. You were easier to pick off that way.

“Okay,” you nodded and he looked shocked for a moment that you hadn’t argued with him about it.

“Good,” he said, sniffing as he rolled his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming to help me… for the blood and everything,” you murmured after a moment of silence. He didn’t have to come and help you, didn’t need to answer the walkie at all and he certainly didn’t need to offer up his blood. His eyes pinned you in place, watching you for a moment.

“You don’t need to thank me, you know I got your back,” he said easily and it made you smile as your chest tightened.

“I forgot how nice it was to have people looking out for me,” you admitted and he smiled softly.

“Been tellin’ you this whole time to just give in and join us,” he pointed out, raising his brow.

“Yeah, well… you know how stubborn I am,” you snorted and his lips curled into a grin.

“I know, it’s a pain in my ass,” he huffed, amusement shining in his eyes. You’d been resisting joining the group, only to be forced into it anyway. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing though. Billy had really come through for you, as did the others from the snippets you remembered of getting to the camp. It showed you they really did care and while it was scary, it felt nice. The world had a lot less people on it now, most of them turning as feral as the dead. It was hard to come by good people, people who would look out for you, care for you when you were at your most vulnerable. You’d had that once, forming a bond like family with your old group. You never thought you’d find that again after everything, didn’t think it would be possible, nor did you want it. But now as you looked at Billy with his soft brown eyes as he looked down at you, you knew you wanted to be here. You wanted to be part of something more than yourself. To have people to watch out for you and for you to watch out for them. To have a purpose, a reason to keep going, to keep fighting. You’d lost that along the way but now you knew you’d found it again and you were looking right at it.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams