#so i was like yeah only reason i wasn’t home was bc i was returning stuff for mom

[wtfsteveharrington]

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 

“Where’ve you been tonight?” 

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily. 

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 

You liked riling him up. 

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 

But tonight was different. 

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home. 

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 

You never did. 

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?” 

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 

4:39 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 

The bed feels so much 

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm 

Headed to bed 

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 

And there he is. 

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now 

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 

————

10:32 am 

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

[ellieswrldd]

softly .

pairing: jackson!ellie williams x f!reader

summary: ellie comes home late and wants to make it up to you.

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), established relationship, not proofread!!! (this is so rushed)

a/n: IM BACK. sorry that took forever i was fighting demons...anyways shout out to @luvrgrl07 who said we need more pussy eating fics bc this is where it brought me

A heavy snow was falling over Jackson. You sat inside your small home, a strong fire waving in the brick fireplace and your dinner on the kitchen table. It was growing cold, sitting out for over half an hour now as you waited for Ellie to return home. She was on patrol like always, though she was running far later than expected. 

It wasn’t unusual that Ellie was late, but the snowstorm growing outside your windows gave you a reason to worry. Hopefully, she was just cooped up in one of the lookouts rather than fighting off infected in the cold. Maybe she was already on her way to your door.

You looked at the food set on the table and sighed softly. It was a nice dinner, one you had spent a lot of time on. Ellie claimed that she would try her best to be home early to spend the night with you since she wasn’t able to do so very often. 

You wiped your hands on your apron and went to glance out the window. All of the Jackson residents were indoors now except for the few who manned the gate, the snowy streets were empty. 

Later, as you added more wood to the fire, you heard the front door open. Ellie kicked off her boots and set her bag on the floor. When you saw her, a small smile tugged at your lips. Ellie’s cheeks were reddened by the cold, her hair pinned into a messy bun, and snow dusting her clothes. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” She said quietly, her eyes darting down to the wood floor. You walk to her, a hand reaching out to touch her cold cheek. 

“It’s alright,” You clear your throat and glance at the dinner table. “Why don’t you go change, and I’ll reheat your food? Yeah?” It was clear that Ellie was tired and while you previously were a bit annoyed that she’d broken her promise, it all melted away as you observed the girl in front of you. Leaning in, you gave her a gentle kiss. Ellie cracked a small smile and pulled away to go to the bedroom. 

The pan crackled softly as you placed it on the stove. You warmed the food slowly, not wanting to burn any of it in the process. Her arms slid around your waist gently, her chin resting on your shoulder as you cooked. 

“Missed you,” Ellie mumbled, her breath tickling your neck. She was wearing one of her worn hoodies and a different pair of jeans. 

“You had me worried, coming home so late.” You sighed and poked at the food on the pan with a spatula. Ellie’s hands squeezed your hips and she kissed your jaw. 

“I know, I really wanted to be home earlier. I’m sorry, baby.” Her thumbs drew small circles on your hips and you smiled. 

“M’not sure I can ever forgive you for this,” You hummed, teasing her. Ellie’s lips traveled from your jaw down to your neck, slowly kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. She moved in a repeating pattern, a kiss, a tiny bite, then she would roll her tongue over the blooming mark. 

“So let me make it up to you,” Ellie laughed softly against your neck, her hands moving up your torso. “I’ll make it worth your time…” She said and cupped your breasts over your apron. 

You took a deep breath. “What about dinner? Aren’t you hungry?” One of Ellie’s hands left your body and reached out to turn the stove off. 

“Dinner can wait. Besides, I’m hungry for something else.” You set down your spatula on the counter and giggled. 

“Okay then,” You turned to face Ellie and rested your arms on her shoulders. She smiled at you, her eyes trailing down your face until they landed on your lips. Sweetly, Ellie met your lips with her own, only pulling away to breathe now and then. The kiss alone would’ve been enough to make you forget everything, but Ellie seemed to crave more. 

Her lips followed yours like magnets and her hands tugged at the knot of your apron until it came undone. Ellie pulled the apron over your head and tossed it to the floor. She pushed you back slightly, just far enough for you to bump against the kitchen table. 

Almost instinctively, Ellie helped you onto the table, grabbing your hips and lifting you to sit. She pulled away from your lips to nip at your neck instead and you let out a soft laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Ellie asked, her face still buried in the crook of your neck. 

You shook your head but promptly responded when she gave your thigh a playful slap. “This wasn’t the dinner I had planned–” You let out a soft sigh when you felt her tongue run along your skin in one long stripe. 

“Well,” Ellie’s slender fingers made their way to the button of your jeans. “I know that you worked hard to cook dinner for us,” She unbuttoned your pants. “And I know you were worried about me,” Ellie tugged the zipper down. “Jus’ wanna make it up to you, even if it’s not what you had in mind.” Her hand slipped into your pants and your breath hitched. 

You shuddered as her finger brushed against your clothed clit. As if she enjoyed seeing you frustrated, Ellie continued to gently rub your cunt through your panties. You moaned quietly, holding a hand up to your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“Lay back,” Ellie muttered, taking her hand out of your pants. You listen and lay back on the table, spreading your legs open further. Ellie grinned and tugged your pants off before speaking again. “Don’t cover your mouth like that, I wanna hear you.” She sunk to her knees before the table and moved to kneel between your legs. “M’not kidding, I’ll stop if you do that,” You caught a glimpse of a smug little smirk on her face. Your mouth opened to say something snarky in response but you were promptly cut off when her mouth suddenly closed over your clit, your panties still in between you and her mouth. The reaction your body has to her touch is always immediate, your hands find their way to her messy auburn hair, your thighs close around her head, and your back arches off the table. 

Through a series of breathy moans and gasps, you begged her to take your panties off, to go all the way and not tease you anymore. She chuckled softly at your begging and her laughter seemed to vibrate against your core. Her fingers hooked on the band of your underwear and she tugged them off quickly, barely giving you a moment to realize that she’d pulled away. 

“Missed this all day,” Ellie groaned as her eyes fall on your pussy. She ran her thumb up and down your slit, spreading your wetness along your folds. Her eyes were trained on you as she began to circle your clit and added more pressure. Your moans grew louder, but you yearned for more. 

“M-More, please,” You gasped and whined. Ellie placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh and pushed a finger inside your needy cunt. After dating for so long, you would think that your body would be used to Ellie’s touch and how she felt inside of you, but it felt electric every time.  

“Doin’ so good,” She praised you and slid a second finger into you. It took every ounce of her self-restraint to stop herself from completely devouring you at that moment, but she wanted to take her time with you. 

Ellie curled her fingers inside of you, stimulating that sensitive spot deep inside you that made your legs shake with pleasure. Ellie could tell you were close to your orgasm by the way your cries grew louder and how you tugged at her hair desperately. 

She leaned in and ran her tongue along your cunt, moaning as she tasted you. Ellie lapped at your pussy like she was starving, giving special attention to your clit while she continued to finger you. That self-restraint she’d been holding onto had suddenly been thrown out the window as soon as she tasted you. She couldn’t be slow with you, she wanted you to come all over her tongue. 

“Ellie–” You moaned deeply as you felt your climax quickly approaching. 

“I know, I know,” She cooed. Her movements sped up slightly and it was just enough to push you over the edge. With her name on your lips, you let out a long moan and fell back against the table. 

Your orgasm left you somewhat senseless. Your body was tired and spent, but you felt a remaining buzz flowing throughout you. Ellie peppered your inner thighs with small kisses before she finally pulled away and stood up. She licked her fingers clean and looked down at you with a smile. You looked so perfect all splayed out on the kitchen table, Ellie was certain that no meal would ever top this. 

[pedriache]

Love ur work! How ab a lamine angst fic where things between them didn’t work out and now that he’s willing to try, reader is upset/confused bc why now

Toothache — Lamine Yamal.

Pairing: Lamine Yamal x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lamine wanted to try again—to give you his all, but all you could think about was ‘why now?‘

Word count: 1.35k

Disclaimer/s: angst , second chances , crying , messy past breakup.

A/N: I love writing angst ^_^~

Heavy breathing was what you heard the second you picked up the phone. You hadn’t bothered checking the caller ID, it was two in the morning and the call had woken you up from a deep slumber.

“Hello?” You mumble, clearing your voice to rid it of the sleep induced rasp.

“Hey, it’s me.” He didn’t need to introduce himself, you recognized his voice even if he whispered. Lamine wasn’t someone you could forget.

You were wide awake now. His voice shooting blots of energy throughout your body. “Lamine? It’s—“ You pull the phone away from your ear, looking from his caller ID, to the time at the top corner of your phone, “it’s two in the fucking morning.”

Lamine plays with the corner of his textbook, he’d been attempting to work on homework, but you were the only thing on his mind. “Yeah, I know.” His voice is quiet, like his mind was elsewhere.

Although you knew you didn’t have to feel concern, it was hard to ignore. “Are you okay?” You mirror his quiet voice, softening it to show your genuine care. Lamine’s heart felt heavy with guilt, he hated when you used that voice.

He knew he didn’t deserve the concern you’d always showed him throughout the years of knowing each other, let alone when you’d dated.

“Yeah, yeah.” He clears his throat, “can I come over?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. Not only were you exhausted, you also knew your parents wouldn’t like to see him showing up without their knowledge. “That’s not a good idea… we can meet elsewhere. I can come over, are your parents home?”

Lamine glances up from the kitchen table where he’d been doing homework, “yeah, but they won’t mind.” There’s a pause before he continues, “they miss you.”

Unnecessary. That did not need to be added, and Lamine knew that.

Rubbing your eyes, you climb out of bed, head tilted to the side to keep your phone next to your ear as you reached for a hoodie. Sliding on a pair of slippers, you reach for your keys on your desk. “I’ll be over in a few, do you need anything?”

You were always far too willing to comfort your ex. He’d called you like this many times. Mostly, he just needed your company, but sometimes he needed to talk to someone. For some reason, whether intentional or not, Lamine could only open up to you.

No matter how messy your breakup had been, you hadn’t been best friends for over a decade just to stop because he couldn’t put effort into an actual relationship.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

The drive was only fifteen minutes to Lamine’s house. You hadn’t played music, an unsettling feeling coming over you. This time, something felt different. Lamine’s tone was different.

Unbuckling your seatbelt and locking the doors behind you, you make your way up to the familiar household—one that you had at one point, practically lived in. You don’t knock, simply opening it slowly and slipping inside. Taking your slippers off, you pad your way into the dining room.

Lamine was staring at his texbooks, head in his head with an annoyed expression, which softened the second his eyes flickered up to you. “You’re here.” He smiles slightly, and you forced yourself to return it.

“Can we make this quick? I have work at nine.” You pull out a chair beside him. “What are you working on?” You ask, though you knew the answer as you had the same textbook in your backpack at home.

“Math.” Lamine answers simply, his eyes trained on you, memorizing your face as if he would never see it again. And, maybe after tonight, he wouldn’t.

Looking up to meet his eyes, you give him a questioning look. “So… what is it?”

“I’m ready.” He stops, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m ready to try again. I want to make this work. I will do better this time.”

Your body felt light, like he’d knocked the wind out of you. Your brain flew into over drive, millions of questions slamming against the walls of your skull. He was ready to try, again? After five fucking months?

You almost scoffed. Almost.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Your bottom lip tugs between your teeth, a smile forming on your face—not a happy one, but one of disbelief. “Lamine. We—you have had about a dozen chances! I’ve given you five months, and each time you weren’t ready. Why now?”

He had to battle the thoughts telling him to look away, to cower in shame. He doesn’t get a chance to speak, because you are still going.

“I love you. I haven’t stopped, but—I was nearly healed and ready to move on. This is so.. it’s selfish!”

Lamine’s fingers played with each other nervously. His lips pulling into a deep frown. “I love you, too.” He whispers, but you shush him. “Can you let me explain?”

You tap your foot against the wooden floor, thinking. Your head hurt, shit—your teeth hurt. Your heart hurt, everything hurt.

This was what you’d wanted for months, so why didn’t you feel happy right now?

The small whispering of your name called you back to reality. Rubbing your face, you finally look back to Lamine. “Sure, go ahead.”

He began his explanation, weak attempts to find an excuse for his past behavior. His mouth eventually shuts, a long exhale leaving his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He continues to repeat his apologies until your head falls onto the table out of annoyance.

Lamine watches you, taken aback by your dismissal. “I just want to show you I can love you like you deserve. Just one more chance, please?” His voice had thinned, little emotion showing other than desperation.

Shifting your head to the side, you glare up at him. “You make my life so God damn difficult, Lamine.”

He couldn’t stop the small twitching of his lips, “that’s not new.” His light hearted tone unfortunately had a small, almost unseeable grin threatening your lips.

“This is it. Okay? One, last chance. And if you fail, thats it.” You sit back up, “we are over, forever, if you mess this up.”

“I understand.” Lamine nods, eagerly. “I won’t let you down.”

Your eyes narrow at him before nodding as well. “Fine. We start new. You’ll take me on dates, ask me out, ask me to be your girlfriend. You will put more effort in than you’d ever had to put into anything before. No excuses, nothing.” Your rules were set and Lamine was more than ready to comply.

“Are you free tomorrow—“

“Nuh-uh.” You wag your finger. “You’re going to surprise me. And go all out. Pretend like it’s a fucking movie, I don’t care. Just.. show me you care enough so I can trust that you’re genuine about this—about me..”

Lamine agrees with a grateful sigh, “I will. I promise.”

“Can I go home now?” You look at the time on your phone; 4:04 AM. Your parents would be waking up in twenty-six minutes.

“Of course.” The boy nods, “goodbye.”

“Goodbye.” You hum, standing up and leaving the room without another word. A lingering sense of doubt flooding your heart the second you left, but it was overclouded by the genuine hope you felt for the first time in five months.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future lamine posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @ar4ujos @spidybaby !

[sturniolohohoho]

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒕

╰┈➤ 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝒃𝒔𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃

he showed up late.

of course he did. first monday of the semester and he strolled into homeroom with a hoodie half-on, a backpack he didn’t bother zipping, and a sort of scared look on his face like he didn’t mean to be late—he just got distracted by something on the way, or forgot where the classroom was.

"chris," the teacher sighed, already exhausted by him and it was barely 9:07. "take the empty seat in the back."

the seat next to her.

you didn’t look up at first. your headphones were in, pencil moving, not really listening to anything around you. he sat down with a plop, and you felt him watching you, practically vibrating with curiosity at what you were doing.

"yo," he whispered, leaning way too far into your space. "what’re you drawing?"

you lean away from the sudden intrusion. "boundaries," you said flatly.

he blinked, then let out a cackle that could only be described as too much.

"that was good," he grinned. "i’m chris."

you gave him a look. "yeah, i got that from the teacher."

he didn’t take the hint. of course he didn’t. the rest of class, he kept fidgeting—tapping his pen, bouncing his knee, spinning a coin on his desk like he was at home and not in calculus.

at one point, you caught him not subtly trying to glance at your homework.

"seriously?" you muttered, dragging your notebook a few inches further away.

"what? i wasn’t—" he paused, busted. "...okay, i was. but like. in a respectful way."

you gave him an eye roll so sharp it must've hurt your eye socket.

"no really! you seem really smart!" he added quickly, grinning like that somehow made it better.

"there’s no respectful way to cheat off someone’s homework, chris."

his entire face lit up at you using his name in a sentence— he was absolutely the type of guy who loved that when people did that.

"god," you said, trying to hold back a laugh. "you’re so… whats the word… earnest?. like a golden retriever."

he blinked. "is that a compliment?"

he stuck to you like a magnet after that.

group projects? suddenly you were partners. lunch? he’d sit at your table, even though there were fifteen empty ones closer to the door. gym? he somehow convinced you to skip with him once, and you both ended up in detention, where he doodled tiny skateboards on the desk while you tried to not laugh, but it was hard. he really did have a contagious laugh.

you tried to stay away— not for any particular reason. but he was... warm. loud. kind in a way that didn’t ask for anything in return.

you sat on the curb after school, sketchbook open on your knees. he dropped his backpack beside you and sat so close your shoulders touched.

"that a tree?" he asked, peeking over.

"obviously."

he nodded, like you’d said something deep.

"you’re a weird girl," he said fondly.

"you’re an annoying boy."

and still—he stayed there. legs stretched out, hoodie sleeves too long, gaze on the sky like he couldn’t believe his luck just sitting beside you.

“wanna get ice cream?”

he smiles huge. “yeah.”he didn’t say it then. but he knew it already. he was going to fall in love with you. and you were never going to fall back.

MORE OF THIS AU

ok guys hear me out i change it to bsf!goldenretriever!chris x bsf!reader

bc chris so golden retriever coded lets be real

[skiller0dani]

Going Home | Eleven

M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.

Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!

BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.

CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.

“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 

“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 

“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 

“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 

“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 

“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 

“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 

You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 

Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 

So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 

You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 

“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 

“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 

“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 

“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 

“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 

“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 

“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 

“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 

“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 

“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 

“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 

“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 

“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.

“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 

“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 

“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.

“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 

“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 

“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.

“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 

“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 

“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 

“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 

“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 

“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 

“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 

“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 

“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 

“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 

“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 

“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 

“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 

“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.

“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 

“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 

“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 

The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.

The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 

He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 

Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 

“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 

“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 

“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.

“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 

“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 

You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 

Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 

“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 

“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 

“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 

“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 

You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 

The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 

The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 

“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 

“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 

“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 

“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 

“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 

“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 

“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 

“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 

“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 

“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 

“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.

“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 

“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 

“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 

“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 

“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 

“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 

“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 

“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 

He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 

“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 

“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 

“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 

“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 

“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 

“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 

“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 

“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 

“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 

“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 

“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.

The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 

“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 

“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 

“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 

“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 

“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 

“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 

“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 

“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 

“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 

The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 

“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.

“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 

“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 

“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 

“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 

“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 

“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 

“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 

“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

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

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

word count: 20,3k

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

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

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

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

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

[pics-and-fanfics]

Alr time for me to relay the weird ass dream I woke up from today. Sorry for how long this is, but I’m trying to share every detail with yall.

My mom got a weird invite to a thing where she’d learn how to fix what was wrong with her car. There was no letter, just a ticket that would allow her to enter the place.

She dragged me with her, obviously.

So we get there, and figure out how to get to the 3 below ground levels (idk how I knew there were below ground levels)

We get to the below ground levels, and get caught after a few minutes, and return above ground, which had somehow morphed into a huge shopping center.

Some of my friends were there too, for some reason.

So we start shopping (???) and eventually catch wind of a rumor of every villain in Gotham (how’d we get teleported to Gotham, along with the store and everyone inside?) working together. (I realized it sounded a lot like “Shutterbug” by @goldkirk and knew we needed to get out.)

I beg my mom to let us leave, I want to go home, I don’t feel good. I used about every excuse in the book.

Well, everyone starts screaming out of nowhere a bit later, and slightly colored gas starts filling the air. Everyone is stampeding, trying to get to the above ground levels and leave. Oh yeah, we’d gone back downstairs, which were also turned into a huge supermarket for some reason.

Then Batman and Superman appear, and they start fighting like crazy, and Superman is slowly getting weaker from whatever was in the gas.

Me and my mom try to work towards the center of the store, where the escalators to escape were. People are still screaming, hallucinating whatever their worst fear is. Mine doesn’t manifest for some reason, but I was glad for it, being able to just ignore the feeling of being scared.

We have to fight our way through big groups of people, and for some reason I know how to do flips and complicated gymnastics moves out of the blue to try to get away faster. (Was I Robin?)

Me and my mom get to the escalators, thank god the power stayed on, and see the only one that wasn’t working had nobody on it. So me and my mom go up the empty escalator, and people start slowly following us, and the escalator starts moving.

I’m falling as I try to move up the escalator to get on solid ground faster, eventually giving up and just waiting until the escalator ends. We run to the elevator that was right there, right on the wall a few dozen yards in front of us.

People are already here, so we run to the one we took to get to the below ground levels originally, and open the elevator with the ticket my mom got.

Everything turns even more chaotic as people start getting eaten by those things that are people who made sound in “The Silence” on Netflix.

I scream, I’ll die. I did both.

The dream changes to this dude trying to explain why chickens were descended from leprechauns based on their tail and wing feathers.

A chicken off to the side clucks, and the dude turns away from his camera, and I (somewhere above the scene bc I’m dead) watch as the chicken does the famous velociraptor scratch thing with its foot before the chicken bites his ankle.

The lady who owns the farm runs out into the road, following the dude who’d stumbled into the road after being bit.

They go back and forth, the lady trying to warn the dude, and him being confused (wtf happened to all his memories?).

The dude gets hit by a car.

I, still dead, remember that I have a model of his death.

I wake up.

[stardewsnail]

Can you write head cannons of how the bachelors would react when jealous? Perhaps they heard their farmer was giving gifts to other bachelors. Can be NSFW. K love you byeee

This is a bit inconsistent because of how familiar I am with them/how interesting I thought their reactions would be–some of these are head canons and some of them are drabbles. Somewhere along the way I realized I switched from they/them pronouns to she/her so I guess this is about a fem farmer now lol–hope you enjoy! 

Bachelors get jealous 

MINORS DNI; cw: sexual activity, jealousy, sad boi hours

Shane 

- very different if he’s with the farmer or not bc I feel like he’s used to being envious of others 

- When he sees the farmer bringing Elliot a bottle of wine or Sam a cactus fruit he feels like he has no valid reason to be jealous. He’s just embarrassed and ashamed of his own feelings.  

- Like, obviously the pretty, successful, kind farmer isn’t going to be interested in him? He’s working at the Joja mart and drinking away his money—he’s barely keeping it together and he comes with a kid. Not exactly the biggest catch

- After the cliffs he had come to terms with his crush and is just sort of leaving it because he cannot imagine her reciprocating his growing feelings. That’s fine, he loves having her in his life regardless. He doesn’t have the expectation that they’ll ever return his feelings and that’s okay. He gets a therapist and focuses on getting better for himself and the others in his life

But if they’re together it’s different

- He retreats into himself and has a bit of a mental spiral (ranging from “it was bound to happen eventually” to “oh god our chickens are going to come from a broken home”) 

- Fortunately he has a therapist to work through things with so he’s able to actually express himself to the farmer in a healthy way and receive the emotional validation that the farmer does in fact love them and their chickens will grow up with parents who love each other 

- He’ll pull her onto his lap or against his chest and if the vibe is right the cuddling might turn into a make out session which might get handsy—Shane is extra needy after all this, lingering through the motions. After sex he stays inside her for a minute, just sharing breath and being as close as possible

- Shane alternates being big and little spoon don’t @ me 

I feel like Shane having a therapist pulls a lot of the “drama” out of him being jealous because he’s so focused on developing healthier coping strategies so him talking about his feelings directly is a big step!

...

Sebastian 

Pre relationship

“Motherfucker-!” Sebastian snarled, watching his avatar die yet again. In his headset Sam groaned, quickly meeting a similar fate. Abigail, now left alone, didn’t fare much better. 

“Okay, it’s 4, I’m calling…” A yawn cut through Sam’s words, “….it.” 

Sebastian winced, glancing at the clock, “Damn—yeah. Night, guys.” It was stupid late. He was going to regret this tomorrow. No, actually, he was already regretting it. Now he was just pissed at the game and at—he shoved that thought down, feeling heat rise to his face. He dropped heavily onto the bed, arm thrown over his eyes. His head hurt. 

And he really didn’t want to deal with the bolt of anger that shocked him when he saw Alex throw his arm around the farmer. Her face was lit up with laughter as they shared some joke—the jock had only touched her for a moment and sure, it might not actually mean anything—but he was jealous. And even a solid nine hours of league had done nothing to subdue the feeling that boiled in his chest. It wasn’t even like the farmer didn’t talk to him either—and while she brought everyone little gifts, he’d had the thought that maybe his were special. A foolish, hopeful thought. Alex was outgoing, athletic, and only still lived at home to care for his grandparents. Sebastian was a twenty-four year old college dropout living in his mom’s basement filling his time with gaming. God, he really was a loser. Fortunately he was unconscious before he really had to deal with that. 

… 

Knock, knock, knock

Sebastian groaned, burrowing farther under his pillow. His mom always woke him up when she made breakfast even if he wasn’t actually required to get up. Maybe later he could ask her what she knew about the farmer. He was pretty sure she was still working on upgrading their coop anyway. It wouldn’t be an odd question. He rolled over, trying to relax back down into sleep. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the second knock sounded. If he ignored it, chances are his mom would leave him be. But then she knocked again, a little harder this time. He swore under his breath as he hauled himself out of bed, not bothering to hit the lights before throwing open the door with more force than strictly necessary. 

The farmer’s hand was still raised to knock and she froze, looking up at him with raised eyebrows. 

Sebastian’s entire brain blue-screened. It crashed. It attempted to restart. It failed. It tried again but all that came up was how he must look—an old band t-shirt, unbrushed hair, stubbled chin, frog-print boxers—holy shit he wasn’t even wearing pants.  

“Good morning!” She said, cheeks pink. It certainly wasn’t morning, that much he knew.  Sebastian wished the floor would swallow him right then and there. “Sam said you guys were up late playing games so I brought you this,” she held up the coffee in her other hand, “Robin said I was fine to come down, I didn’t think you’d be asleep, sorry—“ 

“I needed to get up anyway,” he said, a bit too fast. He ran his hand over his hair, trying to judge its state and was quickly dismayed. Fuck, she was pretty. Great impression Sebastian. Great job. 

“Thank you,” he added, finally accepting the warm paper cup. 

“I started growing coffee beans a while ago,” she continued, fidgeting and definitely noticing his lack of pants, “This is the first of it. Let me know how it is, I’m still experimenting with roasting.”

“Oh wow,” he took a sip realizing not only was the coffee delightful, she’d also added cream and just a touch of sugar–exactly how he took it, “This is really good. Thank you.” 

She lit up, “Oh good! I was hoping you’d like it.” She was hoping he’d like it? Him specifically? The caffeine hadn’t hit him yet, but the taste of coffee still got his brain moving. He noticed the fishing pole sticking out of her pack.

“Are you headed to the lake?” he asked, before he could really think it through.

“Yeah–I wanted to do some fishing,” she rocked on her feet, “I’ll let you get back to it–”

Shit, that hadn’t been his intent.

“D’you want company?” he cut her off, flushing when she just looked up at him with a smile.

“That would be really nice–you can tell me about your game. It sounded fun but I didn’t quite understand when Sam was talking about it.” 

“Great,” he said, “I’ll uh…meet you out there?” He still wasn’t wearing pants.

 Dating 

Sebastian trusted his girlfriend. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that seeing her smile and shyly give Elliot a bottle of her mead had shaken the dust off his old companion, jealousy, and now he didn’t know what to do with the itch in his skin.

He’d spent the day working on his bike, music blasting, a scowl etched on his face. At some point Demetrius had come out to say something, but a glance at Sebastian’s face had him simply turning tail back to the house. 

It was better he got it all out of his system before he met up with the farmer at the saloon. 

Some time and a hot shower later he was entering the saloon, wondering if she had beat him there–and she had. 

And Elliot was there, fawning over the farmer who had a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles as the writer told some dramatic story, talking with animated hands. 

He was across the bar in a second, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side. The lazy grin he gave Elliot was more a challenge than anything–he didn’t know where this sudden boldness was coming from–Elliot didn’t seem like the type to pull something but there was a primal need to mark his territory. The farmer was his.  

She flashed him a grin, her hand coming to rest in his back pocket, and finished what she was saying. 

“Hey, babe,” she said, pushing to her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips, “I got here early–want to get in some practice before Sam and Abby show up?”

“Need a warm up?” he teased, “Think that will help you beat me?”

“One of these days,” she bumped his hip with her own, “I’m gonna win. Talk to you later, Elliot!” she added. Elliot said something in response before slinking back to where Leah was sitting, watching as if this was her very own reality TV show.

...

Harvey

Harvey wasn’t jealous. The farmer was just a friend–she was kind and generous and liked giving gifts! Most mornings she popped by the clinic to bring him a coffee and chat for a few minutes between appointments. 

It was only natural for her to prefer someone less devoted to their work, younger and more aligned with the pop culture she was familiar with. Sam was a ray of sunshine, and seeing him light up when the farmer had offered him a cactus fruit had sent a spike of something that was not jealousy through his chest. 

He spends all his free time for the next few days pouring over his model planes, completing two kits in record time. Between that and the kids in town catching something nasty and viral, he hadn’t even seen her in a week. Which was fine. 

He hadn’t anticipated her to be waiting right outside the door of the clinic, swinging it open as soon as the lock turned. If he had been any slower, she probably would have hit him with it. Her eyes were piercing as she held out the coffee, a small frown on her face.

“Have you been avoiding me?” her words were blunt and heat rose to his face, hands raised as if that would be enough to convince her of his words. 

“No–no, I just–well–” he swallowed, looking anywhere but her face, “You just seemed busy and like you were spending time with Sam and–” She was giving him this small smile that had his stomach turn to jelly, and now he didn’t know what to do with his hands. She held out the coffee. 

“Want to meet up at the saloon later?”

“Yes!” His reply might have been a bit eager,  but he didn’t care because her face simply lit up. 

“Great, it’s a date.” and then she turned out the door, going on her merry way before he could even process her words. 

...

Alex

- to be honest before they’re dating I think he would just AGGRESSIVELY do push ups where the farmer could see 

- or he’ll make a comment about how hot Haley is looking to the farmer

- Either way he tells Haley about “how well he handled it” and she is so, so tired. 

Alex doesn’t care that the farmer went all the way into the mines to find that special rock for Sebastian. It wasn’t even Sebastian’s birthday or anything, she was just nice and he was not bothered. 

He wasn’t bothered when he was doing push-ups.

He wasn’t bothered when he was squating. 

He wasn’t even bothered while doing his deadlifts. 

And while he showered, he totally wasn’t thinking about how she looked so pleased when she showed him the gem, mentioning that it was Sebastian’s favorite.

Now they were sitting on her bed, watching some movie that he couldn’t quite parse over his churning thoughts. He’d been inching closer and closer without realizing, and now he shifted to rest his head in her lap watching her instead of the movie. 

Immediately her hands found their way to stroke through his hair. She smoothed his brow, and he realized he’d been frowning. 

“What’s up?” she asked, ever perceptive. 

“Nothing,” he replied reflexively, and she paused the movie, waiting for him to continue.

“You…like me, right?” His voice was quiet, and if it wasn’t her he would be too embarrassed to ask such a vulnerable question. 

“I love you, actually.” She said it so casually he took a second to process the confession. Her smile was soft. 

Never one for words over actions, he sat up, closing the distance between them with a kiss.

...

Sam 

- I feel like Sam would try to cover any jealousy with a smile and positive attitude but something about the farmer “doting” on Alex and making him baked salmon really bothered him 

- He asks Shane for advice because that’s his work dad/adult and Shane just looks up at the security camera like it’s the office but does try to give advice because he’s fond of the kid 

- His advice is literally just for Sam to make a move because so help him god if he has to head about the farmers eyes one more time 

...

Elliot 

- He’s in denial that he’s jealous 

- I feel like Elliot’s solution to every emotional problem is writing

- He would probably end up projecting it onto his characters writing a scene where somebody is jealous (because he’s not jealous nope. He’s not jealous at all) 

- He’s a little moodier, a little more sardonic and eventually the farmer asks what’s bugging him–he assures her that it’s just difficulty with his novel

- He doesn’t say he’s jealous nope

- He's just gonna go full Gomez Addams and make love to them in a bit of a frenzy—I’m talking a trail of clothes, fucking her right on his desk.

- He’s leaving hickies, the farmer is being claimed 

- The farmer is being RAVISHED 

- He probably won’t bring it up bc he does trust the farmer completely and knows it’s his own anxiety and the farmer more than reassured him on the reg and he can trust that

...

I’m hiding my dumbass notes waaaaaaay down here

I wrote this while zoinked and made up a whole ass bachelor named Mike and sat there for a good min wondering why I could remember anything about Mike, who the FUCK is Mike????

Am I writing Elliot ravishing the farmer on the desk? Yes, but this reply was getting a little long so it’s coming later

I’ve been a little slow on requests lately, but my spouse is going to be out of town for the next month so I should have a lot more time to working on these :) it brings me such joy every time I get that lil notification, thanks y’all <3

[charmercharm3r]

imagine roommate! 3racha coming back from the gym to u in one of their rooms trying on lingerie bc “i don’t have a full length mirror in mine :(((“ literally been on my mind all day

-📿

finally finished this one🥳🥳

-

Sharing is Caring

BC, SCB, HJS

wc: 5.6k

warnings: smut, sexual explicit content, foursome, gets kinda nasty with a side of fluff, jisung x reader leaning lol

-

It was the first and last time you’d ever go shopping with Jisung. He was the only one of your three roommates that was currently available to accompany you. As fashionable as the boy is, he couldn’t give a single valuable opinion for his life. Everything you showed him, he’d give you either a thumbs up or tell you that “it’s your body. If you like it, you like it.”

You’d been at the mall with him for almost two hours when you’d given up asking him. It was obvious when Jisung started to run out of social battery, he’d tell you he’d wait on a bench outside whatever store while you looked around. By the time you’d come to the last store you wanted to check out, Jisung was practically drained.

“Wait outside. I’ll be quick,” you told him, already heading towards the lingerie store without looking back at him. What you didn’t see was his head perking up at the sight of you entering the much flashier and… adult… store. But he did as you asked, taking a seat outside and swinging his legs until you returned.

While inside, you browsed around and picked out a few pieces that stood out. One in particular that really caught your eye was a light blue babydoll set, feminine and frilly and so out of your comfort zone. There was no one you had to wear it for, but it was just so cute. It was also very different compared to the usual black and nude lingerie you typically stuck to. All the courage you had to even walk in the store and pick up the babydoll set evaporated as soon as one of the employees came up and offered to show you where the dressing rooms were, all with a judgemental look on her face. “Is that your boyfriend outside?” She asked, head pointed straight at Jisung, who watched you fiddling with the fabric between your fingers.

In an attempt to ward off her disapproving energy, you replied, “yeah, he is. I don’t need the fitting rooms, I think he’ll like this.” You walked towards the register without another word from her.

You probably should’ve taken up her offer on trying the set on before you got home, but for some reason, the way she looked at Jisung and how she stared at you sparked a sort of jealousy. Upon purchasing it, you instantly strode back over to your friend and took his arm, pulling him from the store and walking away.

He didn’t question your interaction with the store employee or why you’d dragged him away so quickly, but his mind didn’t stop racing at the idea of you wearing lingerie. Little to your knowledge, he had been crushing on you for the longest time. But you were also very, very off limits. It was a rule that he and your other two roommates agreed on when you moved in. You were their friend first, roommate second, and object of their sexual desires at the very end of the list.

However, he just had to tell Chan and Changbin of what he witnessed. So when the two of you arrived home and they invited you both to work out, Jisung jumped at the opportunity while you politely declined and used the excuse that you were tired. In all honesty, you just wanted a reason to stay home and try on your newest addition to your underwear drawer. As soon as they’d left, you locked yourself in your room and stripped, taking your time to put on the outfit. You’d taken off the tag without knowing if it would even fit or not, sighing at your own recklessness. But as you slowly slid on the light colored panties and draped the incredibly sheer top over your head, you came to the realization that you didn’t even have a mirror in your room– not a full length one, anyways. Your little vanity that you usually used wasn’t big enough to get the full view of your new set.

You were on a roll today, acting without thinking as you moved to unlock your door and peak your head outside into the hallway. Checking up and down the hall as well as listening for any movements, you quietly padded around the house looking for any sort of reflection that could show you how you truly looked. The bathroom mirror was a bust, too tall so that you only saw from your diaphragm and up. It was still too bright outside to see anything in the reflection of the sliding door that led to the balcony. Your only other option was perhaps one of the boy’s rooms.

Cursing under your breath at your own ignorance, you mentally noted to grab a full length mirror the next time you went out.

The house still seemed to be empty, but out of anxiety you treadded silently back towards the hallway where the four bedrooms were. You were lucky enough for your room to be next to Jisung’s, who was the quietest of the three boys when alone in their respective spaces. But he was also one of the more private ones, meaning his door was locked. You still checked, of course, but with no luck. Across from him was Chan, also very private and also very much locked. Changbin’s door directly across from yours was your last hope.

And voila! You were met with the overwhelming smell of spice and linen clearly left behind from his cologne and laundry detergent. His walls were painted a dark navy blue, complimenting the pale gray sheets that were messily spread across his bed. There wasn’t much else in his room besides the dresser, a few dumbbells, a desk that acted also as his bedside table, and a closet. There was no mirror that you could see, but upon further inspection, you opened the closet door and found just that.

With your back to the entrance of his room, you smoothed out the top of the lingerie set, tilting your head and twisting to see all the different angles. You had to admit, you looked good. Despite it being entirely different from what you were used to, it was nice to know that you could pull off other colors and other styles. So for a while, you just admired your body in his bedroom mirror.

Jisung had rushed Chan and Changbin out of the house, whispering in their ears that he had something important to share with them. The three of them were already in the gym of their apartment building and starting their routine when Jisung had realized he’d forgotten his pre workout drink. “I’ll be right back,” he said and rushed back upstairs before he could even tell them about you and the lingerie store. He’d jogged to his locked bedroom and found his drink sitting on the desk, taking a couple swigs of it before exiting to find Changbin’s door open. And you in all your glory.

You didn’t even hear him come in let alone notice him, jaw almost to the floor as your hands ran over your curves. Still looking at yourself in the mirror, you turned your hips to see how your butt looked in the baby blue. Immaculate, of course.

“Wow,” Jisung said, a lot louder than he’d intended to.

You jumped, seeing his reflections standing in the doorway with a dumbfounded look. It took you a second to remember your current state, hands flying to cover your chest and private parts. “Wha– I thought you were supposed to be at the gym?” Blood rushed to your cheeks as your eyes darted around aimlessly. When he didn’t respond, you turned to face him.

Jisung looked down at the drink in his hand, “I forgot s– something.” You followed his gaze downward, seeing the bottle. But you kept going, only now noticing his figure in the shadow of the hallway light. The sleeves of his shirt were cut off, drawing your attention to his sculpted arms. But how tiny his shorts were made your mouth water. You’d almost forgotten to breathe once you noticed a tent starting to rise.

You’d briefly thought back to the interaction with the store employee, thinking harder back to how Jisung was watching you like a hawk.

Grazing over his body again, your eyes met his. With the most innocent look you could conjure, “I don’t have a mirror in my room. What do you think, Sungie?” At a snail’s pace, you removed your hands from your chest and core, placing them behind your back and tilting your head.

He’d short circuited, unable to think about anything besides the way your tits peaked through the material of the lingerie. He didn’t even care that he was completely hard and almost to the point of throbbing. Not a single ounce of shame lingered in him as he took a step into Changbin’s room. “Really… really… something,” was all he could compute.

It felt so wrong, like you breaking a whole variety of rules that could get you into some deep shit with your other housemates. But the way his eyes were completely blown out and how good he looked, you couldn’t get yourself to care. So you took a step closer to him, looking up and smiling devilishly.

“Yeah?” You noticed the way his breath hitched in his throat the nearer you got. It gave you a surge of confidence, “wanna take a closer look?”

Jisung nodded embarrassingly fast, followed by dropping the bottle and pulling you in for a kiss even faster. Your head spun at how quickly things escalated. One second you were standing in the middle of Changbin’s room, the next you were spread out on his bed with Jisung hovering over you. His kisses were ravaging, sloppy but still heated as he made his way down your neck, only stopping to breathe. Your hands traveled through his thick hair, carding and pulling it in between moans as he continued further down.

Over the baby blue material, he kissed the tops of your breasts and licked across your nipple, making it perk more and leaving dark wet marks. The more your hands caressed him, the more he soaked your new clothes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you in this,” he mumbled into you, leaving peppered kisses down your stomach. As he reached the hemline of your frilly underwear you arched into his touch, mind wandering to how smug you felt leaving the store earlier hand in hand with him. “Just had to tell the guys about how hot you looked.”

You didn’t expect it from yourself, aroused by the idea of both Jisung and your other two roommates fawning over you in lingerie. It made you practically shove his face towards your cunt, wet spot growing larger the longer he stared up into your eyes. “Please,” you whimpered, unsure of what you were truly asking for.

He didn’t wait any longer before just pushing the material to the side and letting his tongue run up through your folds. The warmth of the wet muscle made you groan, eyes shutting as your head fell back into the sheets. The fact that you weren’t in either of your own beds only added to the forbiddenness of the situation, how risky and taboo it was to be doing this in your roommate’s domain.

Jisung was good with his tongue, flicking your sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip and alternating to suctioning you in. You let out a particularly loud moan when he sucked harder and let his fingers circle your entrance.

You were so immersed in the sensation that you didn’t see the body standing in the doorway. “And when I thought today couldn’t get any weirder,” Chan stood, dumbfounded at the sight before him.

Seeing him in complete awe of you and Jisung set shocks through you, unable to stop yourself from shoving his head harder into you and mewling out. You kept your eyes locked on Chan’s face as Jisung continued to eat you out like a man starved. The absolute bliss your body writhed in sent blood rushing straight to the watcher’s cock, arms flexing in restraint. But then you pried one hand from Jisung’s hair, bringing it up to stick two fingers into your mouth.

As you swirled your tongue around your fingers and the man between your knees continued to ravish you, Chan was already stripping his shirt off and walking to the side of the bed closest to your head. Despite Jisung wanting you all for himself, he enjoyed the show you’d put on as you popped your fingers from your mouth and pulled Chan in by the back of his hair for a messy kiss. It fueled his need to prove himself to you, so he circled your entrance for a second to collect your dripping essence, pushing two digits into your relaxing hole. The sudden intrusion made you cry into Chan’s mouth.

Hearing your sweet noises made the older pull away from you and tug his shorts down, tugging lazily at his fully erect cock. As Jisung continued to suck at your clit and stroke his fingers into you, Chan stood tall. He looked down at you with an expression that told you he wanted only one thing. But to get you to how he wanted, he grabbed the base of his cock and tapped it against your cheek.

“Open,” he commanded, intentionally missing your tongue that was now sticking out. It was slightly humiliating, Jisung having witnessed the whole thing as well. But you were so close to your release, unable to care about how dumb you must’ve looked.

Jisung could feel how tightly you were contracting around his fingers, your hips bucking up and using the handle on his hair to grind harder into his tongue. He enjoyed himself, much more than he’d ever admit, how you used him to chase your own pleasure, so sure he was leaking precum through his shorts. Laundry was definitely going to need to be done.

But just as you were at your tipping point, needing just a little more to get over, Chan gathered a pool of saliva in his mouth, letting it drip from his tongue. He’d meant to slather it onto his dick, but with how erratically the lower half of your body moved he missed, smearing it across your lips and cheek. It was such a filthy sight and an even filthier feeling, forcing your orgasm to rip through you and clench your thighs around Jisung’s head. Just as your eyes shut and mouth opened to cry out, the man standing over you easily shut you up by shoving his cock into your mouth, immediately muffling you. The vibrations from your moans traveled through Chan’s body, making him groan out as well.

Reaching down to find a grip on your hair, he gently thrusted into you, taking his time. Jisung, still clamped between your legs, almost refused to detach from your cunt. But you’d released him and pulled him up by the hair. “She tastes so fucking good. Wanna try, hyung?” he playfully asked, watching the older screw his eyes shut in pleasure as he climbed to his knees between your quivering legs.

“Yeah. C’mere,” Chan breathed out, looking at Jisung and pulling him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. He even surprised himself by the action, letting his tongue glide over the other boy’s as he took in the taste and scent of your high. You, mouth still full of Chan’s cock and legs wrapping around Jisung’ s waist, watched as the two boys above you temporarily forgot about your surging needs. You’d gotten their attention again by digging the tip of your own tongue into Chan’s slit, making him push the younger away and rip another moan from his chest. “Fuck– he’s right. You’re fucking delicious.”

You reached up to grab the base of his cock and pop him from your mouth for a split second to say, “bet you taste even better.”

You could hardly process what occurred in the next few moments. Chan pushed you harshly into the bed and took a step away, “want front or back?” He asked the younger.

For a moment, he pondered. “Front.” Just as Chan was lifting you back up– completely contradicting the mean way he’d treated you a few seconds before– another set of footsteps echoed through the house. Less than a minute later, your third roommate stood sweating and out of breath in the doorway. The three of you were unashamed, uncaring that you’d been using Changbin’s bed without him there or without his permission. He watched Chan lift and settle you with your back to his chest while Jisung selfishly blocked the view of your cunt by quickly undressing, slipping off your panties, and gliding his cock between your used folds.

“I’ve talked about a foursome for how fucking long and you all decide to do it while I’m not even here?” Changbin exclaimed, strutting into his bedroom towards the desk and opening a drawer. “If you’re gonna go doubles, at least use some lube. Idiots,” he popped the lid of the bottle open and handed it to Chan.

“Binnie,” you dreamily called out, extending your hand towards him. Excited, he stood before you, letting you grab his shirt and pull him down for a kiss as well. He was already hard, the second he walked in on the scene all the blood rushed to his cock.

It was experimental for you, sort of new because you weren’t used to taking something in both holes at the same time. Sure, you’d tried anal before, but that was with a toy and with a partner who’d known what they were doing. Chan was kissing the back of your neck and whispering encouraging words in your ear while he dumped a generous amount of the liquid over his cock, using his fingers to pick some up and spread it around your hole. With Jisung toying with your clit and Changbin now pushing his shorts down, you were more than aroused.

But you were growing impatient, mewling as Chan pushed one finger in to test the waters and Changbin lazily stroking his cock before you. All of them were well endowed, Jisung perfectly hooked and Chan on the longer side. Changbin, however, was girthier than most, unsure how well you’d be able to take him in your mouth.

Jisung flicked your clit rather hard, making you arch into Chan’s hand and whimper again. “More,” you managed to say. The youngest looked to Chan over your shoulder, giving him a nod to enter first.

He went slow, gently letting you sink onto his cock inch by inch and get used to the feeling. The way he’d felt was nothing like your toys, hard but also fleshy and soft, much warmer than any piece of plastic. Your head fell back against his shoulder, biting your lip to keep from groaning at the unfamiliarity. Chan was holding back his own moans, the stretch burning for a few moments until you could completely relax. In the meantime, all you could hear were their sweet praises and the rushing of your blood in your ears. When you looked at Jisung, you gave him the okay to slide into you.

When he did, his head immediately fell back and eyes shut, but your jaw went slack. You felt so full as the youngest bottomed out, reaching out blindly for Changbin’s hand to pull him closer.

“Fuck— can barely move, she’s so tight,” Jisung mumbled through his teeth, fighting against the instinct to pound into you.

“I’d be okay with dying right now,” Chan joked to ease the tension, kissing your shoulder.

Changbin pumped himself in front of your face, hand petting through your hair, “I would’ve appreciated being invited to the party.”

Your body clenched at the thought of having your mouth stuffed as well, making Chan moan and hips stutter into you. “Jesus, I’ll blow if you do that again,” he gripped your waist tighter. “Me too, Bin. Found Jisung eating her out for lunch.”

The man standing looked down at you with a sweet smile, tugging his aching dick harder and tangling his fingers in your hair. “Really now? What were you doing here, little one?” The grip on your head pulled back harshly, making you clench again.

“Trying on this slutty lingerie I was telling you guys about,” Jisung answered for you, hand trailing up your belly to push the garment over your breasts and tweak your nipple. He twisted the nub, your brain hazing over with every passing second.

Changbin’s handle on your hair forced you to look at him, mouth still hanging open. When you stuck your tongue out, all his inhibitions went out the window. “Pretty little thing wants all her holes filled, hm? Why don’t you let our friends play with you for a bit, then you can taste.” Whimpering quietly, you nodded and reached a hand back to card through Chan’s hair. It encouraged him to move, gently pulling out before lazily pushing back in, breath hitching as the tight ring of muscles contracted around him.

Jisung followed, setting his pace opposite of the man under you. Wet sounds echoed throughout the bedroom, the only other noise falling from your mouths as the feeling of two cocks in you made your eyes glaze over. It was such a strangely wonderful experience, you didn’t know how good it would feel to be filled from both ends. You also didn’t realize how dirty of a mouth Changbin had.

He stared down at you condescendingly, eyes flittering between your fucked out face and lewd cunt. “Who knew our pretty princess could take two cocks so well. Wish you could see yourself, you look so filthy. Bet they’re hitting all the right spots, hm? Could probably feel Channie hyung’s dick rubbing against Jisungie, isn’t that right?” All spat at you while he swiped some of the lube dripping from your ass, using it to make the glide of his hand along his own cock easier. But he was right. As the two took turns pulling out and pushing into you, you could feel the undersides of their dicks scraping against one another. It made your head spin even more.

Through the immense pleasure you felt, you were able to breathe out, “want you, too.”

“Give the princess what she wants,” Jisung managed to say. His hands ran up and down your thighs, eventually keeping you spread open by hooking his arms under the crooks of your knees.

“You want my cock? Want your mouth stuffed, too, little one?” Changbin cooed just before he shoved his thumb into your mouth. You hummed around his digit, trying your hardest to focus on him through the heat rising in your gut.

The weight of his thumb on your tongue was enough to make your walls pulse around the two men, both moaning out as you did.

Chan’s arms snaked tighter around your midsection. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— I’m gonna cum.” He used his last few thrusts to hammer up into you, pulling out and letting his cock smack against the inside of your leg as he released all over your stomach with a long sigh. Jisung stilled in your cunt, seeing you covered in cum being a deep rooted fantasy that he’d never thought he’d get to see.

The older continued to let out spurts of his seed, thick and hot against your skin as your hands soothingly rubbed over his. “So good. So, so good for me,” he whispered into your ear, just loud enough for only you to hear. His praises were like music, arousal electrifying your body.

“Already, hyung?” Changbin joked to the older.

“You feel her back here and see how long you last.”

You watched his cum drip off the sides of your body, unaware of how intently you were staring at it.

“I think our pretty little princess likes being messy,” Changbin teased. His voice broke your attention away from the sticky white fluid, making you look up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

Jisung’s balls tightened at the sight of you, eyes blown wide and looking up at his older, much more attractive friend like he’d hung the stars. Despite being the one balls deep inside you, he was jealous. So with your attention on Changbin, he started to pound into you, skin slapping skin. You instantly snapped your head at him, seeing his eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes stared into your own. Leaning over you to the side Chan wasn’t on, he whispered, “I don’t like sharing.” You cried out when you felt a pair of fingers rub against your clit.

Just as quickly as you’d found yourself in this position, you felt Jisung pulling out and yanking you off of Chan. He flipped you on your stomach, pulling you up so you were on all fours. The older chuckled, scooting out of the way so that Changbin could take his place in front of you. Before you could even think about sucking him off, Jisung entered you again, using the fatty flesh of your ass as leverage to slam you into him again and again.

Your mouth dropped, eyes shutting as tears stung behind your waterline. The man in front of you brushed your hair back, creating a makeshift ponytail with his hand as he guided your head down and onto his cock. You moaned louder into him, making Changbin shiver.

Almost unable to concentrate with the way Jisung continually abused your cunt, Chan helped you out by gathering his cum from your stomach with two fingers and bringing it to your mouth. Popping off Changbin’s cock for a second, you took his fingers in with a sigh, tasting the bitter-salty liquid. As soon as he pulled away, you were back on Changbin, tasting both his cock and Chan’s cum.

“How’s it taste?” Chan chuckled, smearing his saliva covered fingers over your cheeks. All you could do was moan, in return making Changbin do so as well.

You used your hand to pump whatever was left of Changbin’s cock that couldn't fit in your mouth, swirling your tongue and pressing harder into the ridge where the head met the length. “What the fu—“

Changbin couldn’t finish his sentence, too lost in the feeling of your warmth.

Jisung was unrelenting, fighting off his high every time you squeezed around him, enticing him to fill you with more cum. But he was buzzing, too much energy for his body for him to handle and making him thrust without taking a second to savor you and your velvety walls.

Your lips cupped around the tip of Changbin’s head, sucking him in as his stomach rapidly contracted. He used the grip on your hair to roughly push you back down, tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. Typically, you hated the guys that would push your head. But with how nasty the things he was saying to you earlier were, you couldn’t find it in you to care. You just wanted to make him cum.

So you let him abuse your throat, sure that it’ll be sore tomorrow. But you moaned as Jisung reached around to toy with your clit again, vibrating the entire length of Changbin’s dick. He used your hair to lift and slam your head onto him until eventually holding you completely still so he could buck up and fuck your throat. He was rough like this for a few more seconds before he dropped his hips and pushed your head down onto him, holding your nose to his pelvis as he shot his load down your throat. You hummed around him as he came, guttural groans falling from his lips.

Chan laughed, teasing Changbin about coming too quickly as well. You attempted to swallow with his cock still in your mouth, pulling a few overstimulated whimpers out of him until he tugged you off by your hair again.

With his cum dribbling from the corners of your mouth, Changbin pulled you in for a nasty kiss, bouncing against his lips as Jisung still searched for that satisfying high he craved.

Sure, he could’ve blown by now. But he’d been pining after you for so long and he felt like he was running on pure adrenaline. If he were to cum now, he’d be wasting so much potential. So he kept fucking into you, pulling your hips into him so hard that you were sure there would be bruises on your ass from where his hip bones hit.

Chan and Changbin sat back and enjoyed the show, loving how dumb and sloppy you were now that you were drenched in their seed. The third boy was loving it just as much, thriving off his name falling from your lips like it was all you could think of.

To be fair, it was. Jisung has been the focal point of your sexual desires all day, starting from that incident at the store. How hungrily he watched you, then caught you in another boy’s room wearing the sluttiest thing you owned. And those tiny fucking shorts— there was no way you could conjure up a single thought that wasn’t Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

The two older roommates continued to call you the lewdest things, “cum princess,” “pocket rocket,” “fuck toy,” “cum dumpster.” Jisung almost forgot that they were even there, entranced by how he would disappear into your swollen pussy.

He was close now, as were you. Your walls pulsed and fluttered and almost sucked him in as the heat rising your stomach burned so painfully good. Jisung took your hair from Changbin, who was playing with it mockingly. He yanked you up, pressing your back to his chest. The change of angle made you whimper, tears steadily streaming down your face as his other hand made its way around your cum covered torso. “This is the last time I’m sharing you. Enjoy seeing them in the post nut glow you caused. You’re mine now,” he growled in your ear.

The possessiveness unexpectedly made you shudder, eyes rolling back without a single thought other than to cum.

“Look at that. Finally broke you,” Jisung laughed, shoving your upper body back into Changbin and focusing on his release.

You didn’t need him to worry about you coming, his words did you in as you slumped into your roommate. Vision going white, holding onto Changbin’s biceps so hard that you left crescent shaped marks into his skin, your orgasm took over your body. Heat suffocated your skin as your ankles locked into Jisung’s legs, the shivering of your pussy pushing him over the edge as well.

He delivered a few more deep, hard thrusts, making sure to milk himself and give you everything he had.

It took you a few minutes to catch your breath, head still dizzy but light as air. Chan and Changbin smiled down at you fondly, stroking your hair and giving you nonstop praises whereas Jisung stayed rock hard and lodged inside your cunt, unable to pull away from the warm and slick hole.

Eventually, he managed to get himself together, stealing you away from the two to bring you into an embrace. He kissed the top of your head while your roommates ran off to get things to clean you up.

“Are you okay?” Jisung whispered, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. All you could do was nod and nuzzle tighter into his arms. “I meant it. I really, really don’t like sharing.”

Your eyes threatened to shut, “no more kissing Chan.”

He laughed, “okay. No more kissing Chan.”

Sleep was so close to taking over you, but still, you felt yourself being lifted and carried to a different place, gently being placed into what felt like clean sheets. For a minute, it was just you in the silence. But then you heard shuffling in the distance, voices speaking to one another until footsteps lightly trekked through the room again.

“Is it okay if I clean you up a bit?” Jisung’s voice asked quietly. Eyes still closed, you nodded, completely exhausted. You could hear him giggle, hands gently guided you onto your back and spreading your legs. He ran a warm, wet towel up your center, apologizing as you winced and continued to wipe down the rest of your body.

When you couldn’t feel him on you anymore, you opened your eyes groggily, searching for him. Jisung reappeared in the room not a moment later, silly smiling. You made grabby hands at him, wanting someone to hold on to. “Okay, okay. Cuddles,” he jumped into bed next to you, holding you as if you were made of glass.

You rolled onto your side, his chest against your back. But when you shifted your hips, you felt someone poking at the back of your thigh. Immediately, your eyes opened. “Jisung?”

“I had too much pre work out,” he said, slightly ashamed that he was still rock hard. But you flipped back over and deviously smiled, suddenly full of energy again.

“Oh god, don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. Before he could protest further, you leaned in to kiss him. The kiss started to become slightly more heated until he pulled away. “Can I come with you in the store next time?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his request, nodding and connecting your lips again. It was going to be a long day.

-

A/N: wasn’t really sure how i wanted to go about this buuut i enjoyed writing it!! not gonna lie, those pre work out drinks are fucking crazy. I had some to keep me up while studying for final exams...got lots of studying done..o_o

send me more requests! this was so fun and im more than happy to do them!!!

-momo < 3

[doodle-pops]

Sons of Feanor | Having A S/O Who Can Foresee

Headcanons: Maedhros, Maglor, Caranthir and Celegorm

Request: The gates of heaven is open guys let's goooo! Can I ask for a headcanon with Maedhros, Maglor, Caranthir and Celegorm with a s/o that can often guess random things that's gonna happen? Like they're going about their day and reader just goes like "I have a feeling that 'insert random thing' is gonna happen today" and later on that thing happens; I often can predict things to the extent some of my close friends called me a seer, bc I can guess random stuff that I couldn't possibly know but yeah (secretly I'm just Sauron in disguise, I see everything but they dont need to know) Thank you Mina ♡♡ -👻 anon

Warnings: characters death

A/N: Another chance for me to write more pain and suffering. It just felt necessary to be extra :) This started off so light and then grew dark smh.

Maedhros

⊰ It was always a natural habit that both you and Maedhros had developed as you were courting, all the way into marriage – telling each other “Be safe!”

⊰ But for some reason today was different, you just knew from the reoccurring dreams with him for more than a week, something wasn’t right.

⊰ Telling him to “Be careful on the road today and try not to take any shortcuts, please” would make your husband stop in his tracks. A questioning frown marring his face, because ‘where did the extra come from?”

⊰ It wouldn’t be until he met the accident on the road and decided to take a shortcut because he was impatient and didn’t feel like waiting for assistance. Riding through the forest, he would be ambushed by a bunch of orcs in hiding.

⊰ Escaping with just a few injuries and a large cut to his forearm, he wouldn’t hesitate to retreat and return home to you.

⊰ Seeing him injured, the first thing you asked was “You took the shortcut, didn’t you?” the look of foreign shock Maedhros would give caused you to reveal how you just knew.

⊰ “Growing up, at times whenever I was dreaming, I’d sometimes get these sightings of events from the future happening, but they’d always be in parables. I learned how to read them eventually – rarely they come straightforward, but only when it chose to.”

⊰ Maedhros would give you a big apology for not heeding your warnings earlier because you were literally trying to save his life without him being aware.

⊰ From then on, whenever you dreamt something and informed him, he’d always take your visions into account even if it wasn’t meant for him.

⊰ In the end, he’s amazed at your foresight since he wasn’t aware of mortals being gifted with what he considered an ‘elven gift’.

Maglor

⊰ For weeks your dream about Maglor’s been plaguing your mind and you were constantly on the edge believing that at any moment now, something would happen to him since the dream didn’t show when.

⊰ But tonight was his big performance for the newest pieces he’d been working on for months and your nerves were kicking brass the entire day. You knew it was today.

⊰ Watching as he dressed in his finest wear, you leaned against the doorframe and spoke shakily, “Will be careful tonight?” which got his attention because it didn’t sound normal.

⊰ He’d be out of his seat and towering above you with worry and concern written across his face. “Melda, what is it? What has you so fearful, please tell me?”

⊰ The thought of him being hurt would cause you to break down and reveal your dream. “I had a reoccurring dream about you being killed and it felt so real that I believe it might really happen…tonight. I don’t want to lose you Makalaure. Please tell me that you’d be extra safe?”

⊰ Maglor would be lost for words and seeing you in this state would push him into staying home with you last minute. He hated how distressed you appeared for his life.

⊰ During his attempt at calming you, he’d sneak in the question about what made you believe your dream, not in a demeaning way, but concerned.

⊰ Here he would learn about your gift, “Sometimes when I dream things, they tend to happen but not in the exact manner all the time. I have to read them and their meanings to know what it’s trying to tell me – not all my dreams mean something, some are just nonsense.”

⊰ The next day, Maglor would learn from his brothers that one of the performers was mistaken for him and was attacked, that would make you ability kick Maglor in the head and cause him to be grateful for your prophetic visions.

⊰ Maglor would very much understand your emotions and for this reason, he wouldn’t hesitate to believe anything you revealed a vision to him. Like his brother, he too would be baffled by your ability as a mortal to foresee as an elf does.

Celegorm

⊰ You were a mortal who escaped the prisons of Angband during Dagor Bragollach. As they raided your village, they were also capturing people to build their army of orcs. Successful you were with escaping and running into the arms of the Feanorian, Celegorm.

⊰ At first, he wasn’t too keen on helping you at all, but then he learned of where you came from and believed that through you, he could learn an entrance into Angband to strike.

⊰ Overtime, you didn’t reveal to him that one of your reasons for being kept was due to your gift – foresight. The dark lord used and forced you to predict the outcome of his future in the war.

⊰ One day while you were in your room, the moment Celegorm burst through the doors was the same moment you saw your first vision since your captivity. It was him and his brother and another one, purchasing tickets to board a boat. They had given the tickets to the ferryman and were already boarding the ship.

⊰ You knew what that vision meant, there was no other way to read the vision. He and his brothers had booked their one-way ticket to death – there was no coming back.

⊰ It pained you to see this because in the weeks that went by, he treated you kind and in some ways, you grew attached to him. He would bring his dog around to cheer you up and sometimes if in a good mood, would teach you the basics of the forest and hunting.

⊰ Celegorm seeing your state of shock and hearing the gasp would rush over inspecting the room for any intruders as he approached you. When he kneeled before you, he saw the tears and demanded to know the reason behind them.

⊰ I can see Celegorm scoffing since he believed himself to be invincible and death would never touch him as well as elves only being the ones gifted with foresight. It would pain you to know that he didn’t believe you and only to learn on his own time.

⊰ It wasn’t until he watched as his brothers died one by one during the Sacking of Doriath, he would remember your vision and how you warned him so he could avoid his death, but Celegorm wasn’t going to leave his brothers alone – he would welcome death with open arms.

Caranthir

⊰ All your years, you’ve been always giving Caranthir advice based on your foresight without him having the slightest clue but would propose your ideas from a very academic standpoint to get him to agree.

⊰ From simpler ones like, ‘Be careful out there’ or ‘I don’t think you should sign the contract with those elves’, he would listen to you, but he never knew the full extent of your gift.

⊰ It wouldn’t be until the Sacking of Doriath was rolling around and his brothers were riling Maedhros up in the request of retrieving the silmarils. You would have thought that the King would have returned it, but instead, he refused.

⊰ For weeks they were plotting and devising the best way in and around them, just a week before, you would be hit with the most straightforward dream. He was walking alongside his father and younger brother, Amrod, into a burial ground. You were attempting to call him, but he ignored your calls and continued walking.

⊰ Drenched in sweat, you would fly out of your bed and rush to inform him about not going along because he’d die. Caranthir would question you on if you had gone crazy, only for you to reveal that you had seen him dead should he embark on the attack.

⊰ But just like you dream, Caranthir would ignore your warnings because the oath was calling, he had no choice but to answer. You would beg and plead with him for days all the way until he was departing in hopes of not losing him.

⊰ When he suffered the first strike that brought him down and left to bleed out, all your warnings would emanate in his head. He wouldn’t help but curse at how stupid he was for not believing and listening to you.

⊰ You on his mind would be the last thing he dies with – how sorry he was for causing you pain. You, after all, had to witness his death twice.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @someoneinthestars @aconstructofamind @mysticmoomin @lilmelily @hoshinokurasa @ranhanabi777 @noldorinpainter

[pandoa]

Yellow pansies and Freesias with Ace with tve theme childhood playground pls 🥰 have a nice day and make sure to take care of yourself!

Yellow pansies ~ “they love me, they love me not. they love me, they love me n—” “what are you doing?” “GAH!”

Freesias ~ “you’re an idiot” “no, i’m not” “i hate you” “love you too”

Hyacinths ~ “i bet you can’t do it” “well, i bet i can” “no way—it’s impossible” “fine, i’ll kiss you if you’re wrong” “hey—wait, i wasn’t ready yet!”

~child!ace trappola x child!gender neutral reader~ childhood au!!

hi anon!! thank you so much for the request! i hope it was okay that i combined your request with another anon's bc you both wanted similar prompts with ace! this was inspired by the adorable shenanigans children often get themselves into lol hope you enjoy~

♡cootie crush♡

If there was anything the young Ace Trappola knew as the bright five-year-old he was, it was the dreadful existence of cooties within children his age.

Cooties.

Those icky, dangerous germs that somehow only plagued small children with silly crushes and wreaked havoc among all his friends at their local playground. It festered your lungs, inflated your skin, formed a lurching feeling in your tummy, and even caused your heart to thump faster and faster until it burst! Or, that’s what he had told Deuce to mess with the poor boy, at least. Ace hadn’t had a clue as to what cooties truly did. He just knew that he wouldn’t be caught dead with the revolting sickness if it was the last thing he lived to see.

…Which was precisely why he was there now, sitting alone on the playground swing sets, secretly doting on his newfound, blooming emotions for you as he plucked at the silk-like petals of the flowers growing beside the peaceful park. If anyone had seen him there outright confessing his little crush on you, he would immediately be accused of being infected by dreadful cooties! Ace didn’t want that! But he still wished to find the answer he had been searching for in each fallen petal of the flower he’d been picking at. So, the playful ginger-haired boy did what he thought was best: discreetly wait for each child on the playground to finally return home so he could at last have the whole park to himself—safe and free of any judgmental eyes. 

“They love me, they love me not,” Ace’s adorable voice rang through the empty playground, with only the whispering of the breeze tickling the young boy’s ears. “They love me, they love me n—”

“What are you doing?”

“GAH! (Y-y/n)!” Ace then suddenly sprinted out from his spot on the swing sets, surprise evident on his face at the sound of your high-pitched voice taking him out of his trance. “I-I was just um…” the boy in front of you nervously glanced around searching for a believable excuse, “...seeing how far I could jump off of these swings! Yeah, that!”

You questionably stared at Ace’s rather small physique not entirely having faith in his physical prowess. Sure he could run around and keep up with you when you played tag with each other. You knew he wasn’t weak per se, but c’mon. A five-year-old jumping off of a swing three times his size and not breaking a bone in the process? Yeah, right. Maybe when flamingos turn blue—then you’ll believe it.

“I bet you can’t do it,” you said with a smirk, challenging him. 

“Well I bet I can.”

“No way— It’s impossible.”

“Fine,” Ace declared as he made his way back onto the playground’s swings, preparing himself for the large leap he was about to take. “I’ll kiss you if you’re wrong, you really want that?”

“Now wait a sec—!”

Stunned, you tried reasoning with him, but it was already too late. The moment you followed your gaze to the creaking swing sets of the park, Ace had already been ten feet off the ground—reaching out into the sky like he was aiming for the softness of clouds, envying the birds flying above. He then swiftly settled down on the mulch-covered ground with his knees cushioning his landing and stood before you. 

“See?” Ace puffed as he approached your side, “I could do it.”

You rolled your (e/c) eyes in defeat. “Yeah, yeah, congratulations, Mr. ‘I-can-jump-off-a-swing-like-a-little-maniac.’ I’m so proud of you,” you applauded him with sarcasm tainting your tone. 

“Be quiet, will ‘ya?” The ginger-haired boy returned your comment with a glare. “Besides, I think you’ll regret ever doubting me once I do what I’d said I’d do.” Ace paused, letting his words reach you. “Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

“I said close your eyes,” the boy naughtily smiled at you. “What? You scared or something?”

“O-of course, not!” you defensively yelled trying not to let Ace see how nervous you surprisingly were. He wouldn’t actually… kiss you, right? You were both children! And cooties exist, too! Your child-self was saving your first kiss for a knight in shining armor. Or maybe a prince or princess with enchanting magical talent! Not whatever… Ace was. Nope, never in a million centuries! Your running thoughts were interrupted, however, when Ace quickly skipped closer to your form and inched his face towards your own. You felt your heart pounding a loud rhythm in your chest as a devilish glint shone on Ace’s smirk before placing a mischievous peck on your… cheek?

What…?

Stepping away at the flustering contact, you instantly faced Ace’s giggling figure. “Hey— Wait, I wasn't ready yet!”

The familiar frivolous laughter of your friend mocked you as he took every opportunity to tease you until you were completely and utterly embarrassed. “What’s with the reaction, (Y/n)~? Were you expecting me to kiss somewhere only Mommy and Daddy kissed on their wedding day?” Ace said as he made a few pestering kissing noises referring to his jokingly puckered lips.

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Sure~”

You sighed, glaring at the boy’s annoying pranks. “...You’re a real idiot, Ace.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, (Y/n)~”

a/n: child!ace being scared of cooties but still giving reader a lil kiss on the cheek with no regrets???? kids istg /j

[urfavemcustan]

I just rewatched the scene where Carmy talks to Marcus after he causes the fuse to go out and I was like “damn Carmy would be such a great dad” and I ended up writing this

Carmen As A Dad 

*this is a half-baked thought* also it’s most definitely inaccurate (I have 0 kids)

You called Carmen into the kitchen to show him what you were cooking. When he opened the oven to find a sole hamburger bun inside he met your excited gaze with confusion. 

“What's this about?” He tried to wrap his mind around what would posses someone to put a singular bun in an oven (even though the reason was literally right in his face) 

“You don’t get it?” You couldn’t help but be giddy as you drew out the surprise. 

“No,” he chuckled, “I really don’t.” 

“What is that,” you pointed inside the oven. 

“A bun.” 

“And what’s it inside?” It was killing you not to just spit it out at this point. 

“The oven- oh!” His mouth dropped in amazement, “are you forreal right now?”

Instead of answering with words, you out pull the stick that clearly displays the word pregnant.

Of course he’s scared shitless.

He’s ecstatic about growing your family but a part of him doesn’t see how he could possibly be a good father.

He won’t let his anxiety get in the way of being the best husband you could ever ask for,

He fulfills any and all of your craving requests- even if the food combinations make him cringe a little inside. He actually urges you to stop by The Beef whenever your hungry and he immediately drops whatever he’s doing to cook for you.

Whenever you try to tell him you don’t need freshly made dish for each meal he dismisses it.

“Always the best for my girl, and I want our kid to have some good fuckin taste.”

The first people you tell- after your parents- is everyone at The Beef. Marcus begs to bake you guys a gender reveal cake since he’s never made one before (it’s a girl). Tina rides your ass about taking all your vitamins. Richie begs to be the godfather. Sydney 

Everyone refers to your baby as baby bear, you and Carmy are given the nicknames papa bear and momma bear. You use the name baby bear so frequently that bb basically becomes your daughter’s name. 

Carmy’s hand is always on your stomach, no matter what position you’re sleeping in.

Your water actually broke in The Beef (bc of course it would). You were stopping by to give Carmy a kiss before opening. You’ve been experiencing contractions on and off for two days so you didn’t think much of it. As soon as you started heading toward the counter to find someone to grab him for you, your water broke. Of course everyone’s busy at the back of the house.  

Richie is actually the one who finds you and alerts all of The Beef staff (earning him godfather status). Everyone stops what they’re doing to rush you and Carmy out the door. Once the baby is born, they all visit the new edition to the family. 

After you brought her home Carmen would literally just sit up in bed and let her sleep in his arms while you slept next to him. This girl is spoiled. By her 4th week of existence she owns more gold jewelry than some adults do for their entire lifetime. 

One morning you roll over at 5am and notice he’s still holding her.

“Carm?” You whisper panicking at the thought of him falling asleep while holding her.

“Yeah?” He immediately answers with the same alertness as if it were a normal hour.

“Have you been like that this all night?”

“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly.

“Don’t you wanna get some sleep?”

“Nah.”

He’s been dealing with insomnia ever since his time in New York. It’s calmed down a little once you came into his life since he got to sleep next to you, but it never fully went away. His love for your baby only made it return 10x harder.

The one downside to holding her all night was that he wasn’t able to hold you. Eventually he misses cuddling so much he let’s her sleep in a bassinet- next to the bed of course.

“Carmen we decorated her room and put a cradle in it for a reason.”

“One more night? Please?”

Over time you’re able to get her sleeping in her room. While most couples argue over who’s getting up to check on the baby, you two never have that problem since Carmen automatically jumps up to see her whenever he hears her so much as move over the monitor. You don’t even get a chance to offer to get her.

Sometimes he would just get up and stare at her. 

------------------------------

this kinda surprised me because I NEVER write domestic/pregnancy stuff but I actually enjoyed this

[unwrittenlibrary]

adore you

summary // bucky and alpine enjoy their solitude, but the girl across the hall is slowly creeping into their hearts. (bucky x fem!reader)

words // 7.4k

warnings // diverges from canon & no major spoilers.

notes // just thousands of words of fluff bc that’s all i know how to write. maybe one day i’ll venture into anything else. fluffy bucky has my heart 

reblogs & replies are greatly appreciated!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

The first time you knock on Bucky’s door Alpine wanders over curiously.

Bucky stares at the door silently urging you to go away. You knock again and Alpine begins to paw at the door before meowing loudly, which makes Bucky groan. “I’m coming.” He calls as he stands from the couch. He pauses the movie playing on his television, something ridiculous that Sam had insisted on. Alpine meows again and Bucky can hear you laugh through the door. 

He pulls on a hoodie that’s laying on his counter and stuffs his left hand into the front pocket. When he pulls the door open you smile brightly. “James!” 

The two of you had met briefly when Bucky had originally moved into the building. You had smiled the same bright smile in the elevator and offered up your name easily. Bucky had smiled tightly in return and told you his full name, a habit he had yet to break, and he deeply regretted it. Every time you passed in the hallway you called out a cheery James despite Bucky’s corrections. 

“It’s Bucky.” He mutters. Your eyes move over his shoulder and Bucky watches as you take in his very undecorated and barely furnished apartment. Bucky didn’t mind how seemingly empty his place was. He wasn’t home a lot and nobody but Sam spent time with him. Sam might think it was time to add barstools and a spice rack, but Bucky was content with how things were. 

Your attention is pulled to Alpine as he peeks out from behind Bucky’s legs. “And who are you?” You ask quietly as you squat down to meet his eyes. You hold a cautious hand out and Alpine only stares. You wait for a moment before he turns and moves back into the apartment. 

You don’t seem to take it to heart though. You laugh as you stand up. “He takes after his dad, huh.” There’s a teasing glint in your eyes and Bucky should be offended but the comment actually makes him smirk. 

“His name is Alpine.” Bucky says monotone as he watches you rock back and forth on your feet. “Did you need something?” 

“Oh!” Your eyes light up as if you had completely forgotten your reason for coming here in the first place. “I need salt! Do you have any?” Your eyes move behind him again as if you’re now suddenly worried the answer won’t be yes. 

“I have salt, yes.” He doesn’t move from his spot and only stares down at you. Your eyes flicker around the hallway before you smile nervously. “Can I have some?” You ask quietly. 

Bucky nods and makes his way into his kitchen. He expects you to stay and wait in the doorway, but he hears the door shut behind you.

“Didn’t want him to get out.” You say as you lean against his counter. Bucky’s a little put off by your brazen personality, but you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. “How long have you lived in DC?” You ask as Bucky moves to pull the salt out. 

“How much do you need?” He asks instead of answering. 

“Not much! A couple teaspoons.” Bucky’s stoic attitude doesn’t seem to deter you at all. He glances around the bare kitchen before deciding to just give you the shaker. 

“I don’t have anything to put it in, just make sure to return it eventually.” He shrugs as he slides it over to you. You grasp it in your hand but make no effort to move. Bucky sighs. “And I’ve lived here for a couple years now. I… I moved here after the Blip.” 

He wonders briefly if you know who he is. He’s not sure what happened in the years of the blip, if his name had been marked on one of those memorials. That had been before his pardon, so he assumes not. He wonders if Steve’s exhibit had been changed. He hadn’t been back since before the blip. Was he still in it? Had they changed it or was Bucky Barnes still dead in America’s eyes? His eyes find yours and then he wonders if you did know who he was, were you worried? 

You seemed fine around him. He hadn’t seen any recognition on your face when he had introduced himself all those months ago. A frown tugs at your lips. “Were you…” You trail off but Bucky knows the question. 

Bucky nods tightly and you take a step away and move towards his door, like you know he’s reached the limit on sharing personal details for the night. “Me too.” You finally say when your hand lands on his door knob. You pause. “It’s weird. Right? Coming back to a completely different world?”’

“Yeah.”  He nods. You have no idea, he thinks. He had just begun to figure out how to live free again and then he was gone. And when he came back, he was thrust into battle then lost Steve to a world Bucky was no longer a part of. “It’s weird.” 

You smile apologetically. “Thank you for the salt, James.” You say quietly. His eyes flash to yours but your face doesn’t give much away. 

He nods and the door slams shut. Alpine comes trotting out and rubs against Bucky’s shins. “Yeah, she’s weird.” Bucky reaches down to softly pet Alpine’s back. “Pretty though, huh?” 

Alpine pushes against his hand and Bucky takes that as agreement enough. 

//

Bucky liked helping Sam down at the VA. Handing things out, setting things up, and talking with veterans gave Bucky a sense of something. It gave him something to do when Sam and him weren’t away on missions. 

And he got to spend time with Sam. While it was something he would never admit to the man, he enjoyed his company. Sam had slowly become Bucky’s best friend. Not that Bucky really had any other close friends. 

“Thanks for helping out today.” Sam smiles as Bucky leads him through the hallway towards his apartment. “But you know, you can just come for a meeting. To talk.” 

Bucky nods. He did know that, really. But Bucky was okay with listening for now. Maybe one day he would share some of his story, but helping out now was helping him. 

Bucky stops short in the hall when he notices something sitting outside his door. He throws an arm out that Sam slams into. “Jesus, what…” He trails off when he notices what Bucky had seen. 

There’s a small brown box sitting on the ground. “Stay here.” He murmurs as he begins to move towards the object. Sam gives Bucky a look before following behind him. “Or not.” He glares. Both men kneel down in front of the box. There’s not much that gives anything about what’s in the box away, just his name written in fancy script. 

He reaches a hand out to touch it when the sound of your door opening makes him second guess and pull away. You were a little weird, but he didn’t want to blow you up. 

“James!” Him and Sam look over at you as you lock your door. You’ve got a red apron wrapped around your waist and your bag is slipping off your shoulder. Before Bucky can say anything like be careful, you furrow your brows at the men. “What are you doing? Do you not like cookies?” 

“Cookies?” Bucky asks as he glances down at the box again. Sam has already stood up and straightened out, but he’s still kneeling in front of the door. He can hear Alpine pawing at it, no doubt having heard Bucky’s voice, and he feels a little ridiculous now. “It’s Bucky.” He adds on now that he knows it’s not an explosive sitting in front of him. 

You nod slowly with a confused smile on your face. “Cookies. I made a bunch so I packed up the extra for you. When I knocked nobody answered so I left them, I wasn’t sure if I’d be home when you got back.” 

Bucky feels heat rise to his cheeks. He hastily picks the box up and stands. Sam laughs loudly and Bucky glances at him coldly. “Thanks.” He says quietly. 

You rock back and forth on your feet again. Must be a nervous habit, Bucky thinks. “I also made some cat treats. For Alpine.” Bucky recognizes the nervous tone in your voice as you stare at the box in his hands. “Thank you. For the help.” You say before spinning on your heel. You freeze and turn again, this time your eyes land on Sam. “Nice to meet you, Captain America, sir.” You look like you’re thinking of throwing your hand up in salute, but instead you turn again and rush down the hall. 

Bucky just stares after you until a muffled meow breaks his focus. He shakes his head before shoving the box into Sam’s hands and moving to unlock the door. “So.” Sam says with a poorly contained smirk as he follows Bucky inside. “She seems nice, James.” 

Bucky groans before snatching the box from his hands. “She knows I go by Bucky, she just calls me that to mess with me… I think.”

“And she knows Alpine?” Sam kneels down to pet said cat, but he jumps away and hides behind Bucky’s legs. “Come on, Al. We’ve known each other since you were adopted.” Sam stands up and rolls his eyes at Bucky. 

Bucky laughs softly at the cat. “She asked to borrow salt last night and kind of met him. Alpine didn’t really stick around to hang out with her.” He begins to open the box and notices a small note taped to the inside of the lid. 

He pulls it off hesitantly. “What’s her name?” Sam leans against the counter and pulls a cookie out of the box.

“Y/N.” He says quietly as his eyes skim over the note. 

James, 

Thank you for the salt. And the conversation. I hope you enjoy the cookies. I made some simple tuna treats for Alpine. 

Step One in getting your cat to love me. 

Bucky lays the note on his counter and looks into the box. His shaker is standing in the corner next to a small plate of cookies and a jar of what he assumes are the cat treats. Sam laughs and Bucky glances up to see him reading over the note. “Hey!” Bucky yanks it out of his hand and shoves it into one of the drawers in front of him. 

“Getting Alpine and you to love her, she means.” He laughs again and Bucky rolls his eyes. “That’s cute. I didn’t know you had a little flirtationship going on.” 

Bucky scoffs. “I don’t… What does that even mean? Did you see us in the hall? I don’t flirt with her.” 

Sam reaches for another cookie. “Really? Just felt like that’s how you would flirt. And you blushed so…” He trails off with a smirk. 

“I wasn’t blushing!” Bucky says defensively. He didn’t blush just because a pretty girl gave him cookies. He wasn’t in middle school. When Sam reaches for another cookie, Bucky yanks the box away. “Are you gonna order dinner or stand here and eat all of my cookies?” 

Sam throws his hands up in mock surrender and pulls out his cell phone. “Hey. No need to get defensive. Maybe it was just hot in the hallway.” He moves into the living room and flings himself onto the small couch. 

Bucky scoffs and looks down at Alpine, who has made himself comfortable at Bucky’s feet. “I wasn’t blushing.” He says quietly to the cat. Alpine just blinks. Bucky pulls a treat out of the small jar and holds it out to him. “You know I wasn’t blushing.” 

//

The next time Bucky sees you, it’s him at your door. He’s got a clean plate in his hand and is decidedly not nervous as he waits for you to answer. 

He lifts his hand to knock again when the door swings open. You’re standing in nothing but a sweatshirt and shorts that barely peek out from beneath it. Bucky swallows and forces his eyes up from your legs to your face. 

He gives you an apologetic smile when he sees your raised brows. “James.” You smile kindly as you lean against your door frame. “What can I do for you?” 

“Bucky.” He says automatically. He holds the plate out and notices your eyes catch on his gloved hands. “Figured you might want this back. I washed it.” 

You take the plate from his hands. “Thank you.” Bucky doesn’t move from his spot in the hallway. He’s not really sure why because he’s done what he needed to do. He just wanted to enjoy your presence, he assumes. You had begun to grow on him and your cookies were really good. Or maybe he had always kind of liked you. 

“Do you want to come in?” You ask. There’s an inviting smile on your face and he almost says yes. He wants to say yes. But he didn’t want to leave Alpine alone, he had already been gone for most of the day. 

Bucky gives you an apologetic smile. “I would… But I don’t want to leave Alpine alone.” You nod with a soft smile and Bucky watches for a moment before taking a step back.

“I’ll just…” He points over shoulder at his door. He turns and starts the short walk to his door. 

You laugh quietly. “Have a good night, James.” 

“Bucky.” He corrects. He takes a deep breath and turns to face you again. You’re still standing in your doorway watching him amused. “Do you want to… You can come to mine instead?” 

Your small smile transforms into something bright and excited as you nod. “That would be great. Let me grab my keys.” You hold a finger up and disappear into your apartment. 

As soon as you're out of sight Bucky slumps against the wall. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He thinks. His living room is bare except for the small, shitty couch Sam had persuaded him into buying. That and a lamp on an Ikea side table and his television. 

He imagined your living room was much homier. Probably decorated to fit your aesthetic and cozy. What would you think of his place? What did you think? You couldn’t mind it too much if you agreed to come, right? 

His nervous train of thought is disrupted when he hears your door slam shut. Bucky watches as you lock your door quickly. “Lead the way!” You look at Bucky with teasing eyes. 

Bucky smiles hesitantly as he turns towards his own door. When he opens it, he finds Alpine laying on the back of the couch and he stares confused at Bucky and the new addition to the apartment. 

“You remember Alpine.” Bucky says with a small smile as he beckons you further into the apartment. “It’s not much-“

“-It’s nice.” You cut him off. You’ve got a genuine smile on your face and Bucky begins to wonder why he had ever been nervous. You’d always been kind, he couldn’t imagine you having anything rude to say. “Hi, Alpine.” You say quietly as you step cautiously towards the couch. 

Bucky watches as Alpine looks up at you equally as cautious. “Nice to see you again. I hope you like the treats.” At the word, Alpine perks up and looks at you intrigued. 

Bucky quietly pulls a couple treats out of the jar. He moves as subtly as he can in order to avoid shifting Alpine’s attention. “Here.” He slips a treat into your hand. “See if he comes to you.”

You hold the treat out in front of you and Alpine sniffs the air. You don’t say anything, like you know trying to coax the cat to you might spook him. Alpine seems to appreciate it and moves towards you slowly. He snatches the treat from your hand before dashing away. He disappears down the hallways, but you don’t seem to care because you spin around to face Bucky with a happy smile. 

“Did you see that?” You laugh. Bucky swallows and nods. Briefly he thinks you have a beautiful smile before shaking the thought off. You take a seat on his couch and pull your legs up underneath you. “I’ll be his favorite in no time.”  

Bucky snorts. “I’m sure.” He says sarcastically. He sits next to you on the couch and moves to hand the remote to you. He lets a small smile be directed at you as he watches you make yourself comfortable in his home. It’s not much, but you seem to fit right in. 

When your eyes land on his gloved hands again, he thinks you’re gonna ask for a reasoning behind them. He’d have to come up with a poor excuse, not wanting to share the truth yet. But your eyes move from his hands to his face and you take the remote with a smirk. “You ever seen Legally Blonde?”

And, well. That’s that. 

//

The next time you and Bucky see each other, it’s in passing. He’s going out as you’re coming in. There’s a grease stain on your shirt and your red apron is barely stuffed into your purse.

Bucky hesitates for a moment. “Hey.” He says quietly. You spin around and slam backwards into your door. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He takes a cautious step towards you. His eyes trail over your face, your eyes are red and he can tell how exhausted you are. 

“It’s okay.” You say quietly. You take a few calming breaths. “I was in my head. It was a rough night.” 

Bucky leans against the wall next to you. “Wanna talk about it?” He’s grown so used to you just stopping to chat that this tense silence feels wrong. Normally he wouldn’t even have to prompt you, he would listen as you just launch into a story easily.

You trail your eyes over his outfit. “You look like you’re headed out.”

Bucky shrugs and doesn’t move from his spot. “Just a recap then. I have time.” He’s not sure what’s inspired him to do this. But he thinks it has something to do with this newfound fondness to your bright personality. He wants it back. 

You take a deep breath and nod. “Come in for a glass of water? Then I’ll let you go.” 

Bucky sighs in relief. “Sounds perfect.” He follows you into the apartment. It’s different from his. Bright, like you. You’ve got posters hanging neatly on the wall your tv is against. Plants sitting by your window. A large couch and soft rug. “Nice place.” He comments as he moves to sit on one of your barstools.

You laugh softly. “Thanks.” You drop your purse onto the counter and turn to pull two glasses out of the cupboard. “Where are you headed? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Bucky glances at the time on your stove. “Oh… I help my friend out with meetings at the VA. I was headed to help him set up.” 

You slide a glass of water towards him. “You’re a vet?” He takes it with an appreciative smile. “I didn’t…” You shake your head. “Thank you.” 

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m not…” He trails off unsure of how to explain his status to you. Did you really not know who he was? “Tonight's topic is you.”

You roll your eyes and lean back against the counter. “Have you ever just had a bad day? Where nothing seems to go right?” Bucky nods and you sigh. “My master’s thesis, I’ve been working on it for months, I got back my draft today from my advisor and he tore it apart. Had a good cry about that. Got called in early to work, I need the money so I said yes. The diner was busy and we were short staffed. To top it off, my last customer of the night was a douche. He hit on me all night. When I told him no to getting my phone number, he threatened to take my tip away.” You laugh bitterly as Bucky sits in silence, listening intently. “And then when I walked away, he tried to grab me. So… Stellar night over all.” 

“Want me to kill him?” The words are out of Bucky’s mouth before he can think. He couldn’t imagine being forced to be nice to somebody who was just harassing him all night. In fact, he knows he wouldn’t be. And he knows you certainly didn’t deserve treatment like that. 

You let out a shocked laugh that turns into a full blown laughing fit. Bucky lets out an awkward chuckle as he watches you shake. 

“That’s…” You trail off and Bucky notices tears gathering in your eyes. “That’s really sweet.” You say wetly. 

“Hey.” Bucky stands up and takes a step towards you. He pauses, unsure of what to do, but when you start to shake again, this time with tears, his decision is made. “Hey. You’re okay.” 

He pulls you into him and you come easily. You wrap your arms tightly around his waist and rest your head against his chest as you let it out. 

Bucky rubs your back and tries his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. He hopes you can’t hear it because he’s sure it would break any kind of aura of nonchalance he had created. 

He glances at the time again. He really has to go. The meeting was starting soon and he’s sure Sam is worried about where Bucky is. He pulls back slowly, not wanting to let go. 

You look at him with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry. I have to go.” You nod dejectedly and take a step back. You don’t go too far, both of your hands still clinging to his jacket. “Can you watch Alpine?” He rushes the words out and he knows there’s a light blush rising to his cheeks. He just wants to make you feel better and he really does hate leaving his cat alone. 

You furrow your brows. “What?” 

“I mean.” He takes a hurried step back suddenly aware of you still wrapped in his arms. “I hate leaving him alone. And… You look like you could use some furry company.” 

A slow smile spreads across your face. “Are you saying your cat likes me?”

“No.” Bucky laughs. “But you are the only other person he doesn’t completely hate.” 

“I would love to watch Alpine.” You take a few rushed steps out of your kitchen. “I’ll change and head over.” 

Bucky lets out a relieved breath and nods. “Good. Cool. I mean-“ He shakes his head. “-my spare key is on top of my door. You don’t have to do anything but hang out with him. Don’t expect cuddles though, I’m not sure you’re on that level yet. Don’t give him too many treats.” 

You’re nodding like his instructions are even the smallest bit important. “I have to go.” Bucky says ago and takes another step towards the door. “I’ll see you later.” 

You nod and take off down your hall. Bucky lingers by your door for a moment.

“Wait!” You yell and come rushing out again. Bucky freezes and turns to look at you. “Thank you…James.” You smile brightly before spinning around again and disappearing. 

Bucky smiles to himself as he leaves. The bright was back. 

//

When Bucky gets home he’s more nervous than when he left. His palm is sweaty and all that’s on his mind is Sam’s constant teasing. 

Bucky didn’t have a crush. He just… Liked having you around. That didn’t mean he wanted to date you. Maybe he did think you were pretty. And sure when you had let him hug you earlier it had made his heart race. 

But it wasn’t a crush. Bucky was too old to have a crush. He takes a deep breath before opening his door. He can hear a movie playing softly before he even looks up. 

“Hey.” You say quietly from where you’re laying on his couch. You sit up hastily with an embarrassed smile. Alpine is laying on the chair across from you. “We’re friends!” You point to the sleeping cat. 

Bucky nods. “He actually stayed in the same room as you all night?” He asks doubtfully. 

You frown, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Maybe not all night. But he came out like an hour ago. I think he gave up on waiting for me to leave.” 

You pat the spot next to you on the couch and Bucky moves as quietly as he can. “How was your night? Do you feel better?” He looks you over. You looked less tired and from the blankets piled on his couch it looks like you had taken a nap. 

You nod. “A lot better… Thank you. I really appreciate you letting me hang out with your cat.” You look up at him with a nervous smile. “He’s just like you. You two were made for each other.” 

Bucky glances at Alpine. “What does that mean?” 

You poke Bucky’s leg with your socked foot. “Hard exterior, secretly wants to be best buds with me.” 

Bucky snorts and gently shoves your foot away. “My secret plan has been outed. Make the girl from 4B my best friend.” You laugh and move to tuck your feet under his leg. It’s silent for a moment, and Bucky knows you’re watching him so he busies himself with watching Alpine.

“Hey…” You trail off waiting for Bucky to turn his attention to you. “I don’t want to upset you or anything.” 

“That’s always a good start.” Bucky says nervously as he focuses on you. Your hands are fidgeting in your lap as you watch him. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing’s wrong! I just… Promise you won’t be upset with me?” Your eyes are pleading and Bucky can feel himself get anxious. What could you be so nervous about? 

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly. You don’t say anything, so Bucky swallows hard. “I promise.” He nods slowly. 

“Okay.” You take a deep breath. Bucky watches your eyes shift around the room before landing on his hands clenched together in his lap. “I thought I recognized you. Like, your name is so familiar and then when I saw you with Captain America…” 

Bucky looks down at his hands and nods. He knew where this was going. “I…” He trails off. 

“I looked you up.” You rush the words out. Your voice is small and Bucky feels any hopes he had for this friendship shatter around him. 

“I don’t… I’m not any of those things anymore.” Bucky cringes. His leg is shaking anxiously, but he just can’t get it to stop. He can’t even get himself to look up from his gloved hands, didn’t want to see the fear or disbelief that would be painted across your face. 

Your toes poke at his thigh again and it forces Bucky to look over at you. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you watch him, but there’s no trace of fear or anger, you wear the same kind smile that you always did. 

“I know that.” You whisper softly. Your eyes move past him and Bucky follows your line of vision to Alpine, whose bright eyes are staring at him. Bucky smiles gently at the cat as he stretches out and hops off the chair. Alpine rubs against Bucky’s shins, a welcome distraction from the impending conversation. Your feet curve upward to poke Bucky in the leg again. He looks up hastily at the gesture. “When I asked if you were a vet earlier, why did you say no?” 

Bucky purses his lips to think. The truth was he wasn’t at all sure how to explain everything to you. He didn’t have to explain things to Sam or Steve, they knew. “My war was a long time ago.” He settles on saying. 

“That doesn’t make you any less a veteran.” You say firmly.  “And there’s not much online about the Winter Soldier-“ There’s ringing in Bucky’s ears as the words come out of your mouth. What had you found? And what were you thinking? 

“Hey.” You lean over and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “There’s not much online, but I didn’t read what there was because I knew that it was your story to tell me. When you’re ready.” 

Bucky inhales sharply as you look at him with curious eyes. “I… I did a lot of bad things. I… I worked on making amends and I… I was pardoned.” He pleads with you like he’s sure you’ll walk out if you know everything. 

“Okay.” The word is quiet and your hand is still resting on his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I just wanted you to know that I’m your friend. Even with your super cool secret identity.” 

Bucky laughs at that. “It’s not a secret if you use your real name.” 

“Ah! You agree? We’re friends?” You say with a smirk. “Does that mean I get to see the super cool metal arm that’s always been covered around me?” 

Bucky shakes his head, but laughs. “Not yet.” You’re watching him carefully so he gives you a small smile. “I would say we’re friends though, yeah.” 

//

Suddenly, you’re always there. 

When Bucky has missions with Sam, you check in on Alpine for him. His spare key has moved from above his door to your keychain. 

You’ll come over with treats when he gets home from the VA. (Bucky likes to think you check for him when you hear the heavy footsteps in the hall and that’s why you’re always there right after he gets home.) 

He’ll bring dishes back whenever he sees you get home. (He does check the peephole when he hears footsteps.) 

You send him pictures of Alpine when he’s away. Alpine who still won't cuddle with you or even touch you, but who lays in the same room and has recently started allowing short pets. He sends you pictures of Sam and cities they’re in. 

And tonight, while he’s in New York, you’ve sent him a picture of you in his bathroom mirror with Alpine sitting pretty on the counter. 

He’s not supposed to be up there. 

All he gets is another picture in return, this time you have a thumbs up and Alpine is still on the counter. Bucky smiles. Sam notices. 

“Your girlfriend texting you?” He teases. 

Bucky scoffs. “She’s not my girlfriend… She just watches Alpine for me sometimes.” He looks back down at his phone. Nice. He sends back before stuffing it into his pocket and looking back at the man. 

Sam nods slowly. “Right. She just watches Alpine sometimes. And hangs out with you when she’s free. Don’t forget the treats she makes you and Alpine.” Sam lists off casually as he looks down at his fingernails. 

Bucky feels an embarrassed heat crawl up the back of his neck and looks down at his feet. “We’re friends. She’s a good friend.” 

When he looks up, Sam doesn’t have a teasing smile, but instead a genuinely happy one. Bucky thinks that this one is somehow worse when Sam grips his shoulder firmly. “I’m glad you have such a good friend, Bucky. Someone outside this super hero business.”

Bucky nods and swallows the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Thanks, Sam.”

“I’m serious, Bucky. You deserve it.” 

Bucky gives him a grateful smile unable to say anything else.

//

Bucky creeps into his apartment at four in the morning. It’s quiet, like usual, but Alpine isn’t sitting on the couch like he normally does when Bucky isn’t home. 

“Al?” He calls out quietly. The logical part of him is aware that Alpine may have fallen asleep in his bedroom, or underneath a piece of furniture. But there’s another part of him that panics at the routine being broken. 

Alpine was always there to greet him. 

Bucky would rather be safe than sorry. “Al.” He whispers again, already reaching for the knife strapped to his ankle. He bends slowly and lifts his pant leg as he scans his eyes under the couch and coffee table in search of the cat. 

He stands with the knife in his hand and moves slowly down his hallway. His bedroom door is ajar, Bucky takes a deep breath before pushing it open all the way. Alpine blinks at him from the edge of his bed. The knife slips from Bucky’s hand as he stands, shocked in the doorway. You’re asleep. Asleep on the bed that he never used. 

The knife clattering against the ground stirs you from your sleep and your eyes widen when you notice Bucky standing there. 

“Hey!” Your voice is raspy and low. You rub your eyes and Bucky can only stare at your half-asleep form. “I… I thought you were going to be gone until tomorrow night.” 

He nods. “Yeah. I mean, we got things done sooner than expected.” He explains. You lean over to flicker the light next to you on. Bucky doesn’t recognize the pillow sitting behind you or the blanket that’s thrown over your legs, he thinks you’ve brought them over from your apartment. You must have because his pillow and blanket was sitting folded in his linen closet waiting for the next time he camped out on the floor or the couch. 

You smile apologetically. “I’m sorry. I… I got tired of falling asleep on the couch.” You whisper. “And Alpine lays with me on the bed.” 

Bucky hastily shakes his head. “No! It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. I should’ve told you to sleep in the bed. I didn’t even think of it.” I don’t really sleep in the bed. He moves further into the room. 

You scratch nervously at your cheek before freezing in action. He almost laughs at the annoyance that crosses your face. You had mentioned once that touching your face was a bad habit you had been trying to break for months. “I should go.” 

“You don’t have to.” Bucky opens his dresser drawer in search of sweatpants. “Stay here. You’ve already got yourself set up. I’ll crash on the couch.” 

You push the blanket off of your legs and Bucky has to force his eyes to stay on yours when he notices the already short shorts you’re wearing have ridden up your thighs from sleeping. “I can’t make you sleep on the couch, James. I’ll go!” 

“You know it’s Bucky.” He stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “It’s fine.” He stresses. “I… I don’t really sleep in the bed anyways. The couch is better.” 

Your eyes narrow. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” He can tell you’re hesitant, but your rushed movements have paused. “My apartment is across the hall! I feel awful for invading your space like this already.” 

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and watches curiously as you shift to sit next to him. Both your legs are dangling off, almost brushing his, and Bucky feels warmer than he had all week. “Doll, I’m serious. Beds are weird for me. I haven’t had one in so long that sometimes they’re just too overwhelming for me to sleep in.” 

He almost jumps when your head rests against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think of that.” 

“It’s good to see somebody getting good use out of this bed.” He leans into you slightly. “My ma would have thrown a fit if she saw how much this bed was. 800 dollars for a mattress... 800 dollars back then is like, thousands now.” 

You laugh softly. Bucky glances down again. Your eyes are closed and he thinks you’re almost asleep until you talk. “Do you… Would someone being there help you sleep in the bed?” 

You don’t open your eyes and Bucky’s almost glad for that because he can’t look away from you. “I… I don’t know. It’s only been Al and I.” His eyes follow the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe slow and calm. 

You finally look up. “You should stay with me. The couch isn’t comfortable to sleep on, I would know.” You elbow his stomach gently. 

He nods before he can even think about it. “If… If you’re comfortable with it.” He whispers. 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. I promise.” You move away from him and Bucky already misses the warmth you radiate. “I’ll let you change.” 

He leans against the bathroom door as soon as it’s shut behind him. “It’s okay.” He mumbles to himself. His nightmares had been getting better, but that didn’t mean they were gone entirely. 

They probably never would be. And he knew he couldn’t let himself be afraid of the bed for the rest of his life. He had bought the bed. He just hadn’t expected his attempt at getting over the anxiety to be with you. 

Why had he said yes? He thinks as he shakily slips his jacket off. He looks at himself in the mirror and sighs. It was a good question, why had he said yes? 

He slips into his sweatpants and just stands in the bathroom. He couldn’t change his mind now. 

Well, he could. He knew you would give him a kind smile and reassure him that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. You were just that person. Kind and understanding and holding no judgement. 

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He shakes his shoulders out and picks up his discarded clothes. He stops at the linen closet and pulls out his blanket and pillow. 

You’re already wrapped up in your blanket again when Bucky comes back into the room. Alpine has moved to lay the floor in front of his bed. You smile sleepily at Bucky. He feels himself smile back. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

(When his eyes crack open the next morning he finds Alpine curled at his feet and you curled into his side, he knows being with you wouldn’t be bad. It’s the first time he lets himself think maybe this really is a crush.) 

//

So, Bucky has a crush. Which is a little ridiculous because he’s over a century old and having a crush is so high school, but it’s there. When you smile in the hall and butterflies rush through his stomach or when his chest warms at a picture you’ve sent of you and Alpine. It’s so obviously there. 

“What are you staring at?” Your voice shakes him when he realizes he’s been staring at you this entire time. You’re sitting next to him on the couch, so close your legs are touching. “Do I have something on my face?” You reach a hand up to your cheek. 

Bucky shakes his head hastily. “No. Sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Penny?” You ask softly and Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. “Penny for your thoughts.” You clarify quickly. 

He thinks the smile that appears on your face is bashful and it makes Bucky feel just a little more confident. Maybe he made you as nervous as you made him. 

“You’re really pretty.” He says suddenly. Your eyes widen and you look away nervously. A hand scratches at the back of your neck and Bucky bites down on his lip as he watches you. Not exactly how he hoped that would go. “I mean… I was just looking at… how pretty you were.” He cringes at the words as they come out of his mouth. 

He used to be so much smoother than this, he thinks. He remembered having a new girl on his arm every week and a friend of theirs for Steve. 

Alpine meows loudly and Bucky just knows the cat is laughing at him. “Thank you.” You finally say quietly. “I… I didn’t think you thought that about me.” 

“‘Course I do.” He says equally as quietly. “Always thought you were pretty.” He glances at you and smirks, “Even when I thought you were weird too.” 

You gasp and turn to look at him. “You thought I was weird?” 

Bucky laughs and nods. “After you came in the middle of the night for salt? A little. And the fact that you keep calling me James when I’ve told you it’s Bucky.” He raises an eyebrow. 

You smile brightly. “You introduced yourself as James. Why would I call you anything else?” 

Bucky presses his tongue to his cheek as he tries not to laugh. “Yeah. I’ve regretted that every day since. Nobody’s called me James since the forties.” 

You scoff. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Bucky looks away. “Well for decades I was referred to as soldat.” He glances down at his hands. He’d stop wearing his gloves around you after you’d spent the night, even told you a little of his story the next morning. 

Sam thinks your relationship is weird. You spend the night sometimes and both of you find time to spend together when you can. It’s like you’re dating, but Bucky knows it’s not really like that. He thinks you both bring a sense of calm to one another. 

He’s not sure how to shift that, or if you would even want to, into a relationship. He glances back at you with a tense smile. “Steve always called me Buck. Sam calls me Bucky. Last person to call me James was probably my mother.” 

“I’m sorry… I never meant to-'' You take a deep breath like you’re preparing yourself for what you're going to say next. 

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s fine. I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I was just pointing it out.” He tries to smile reassuringly. 

“I was just trying to flirt.” You say so quickly the words sound jumbled together. 

It takes him a moment to comprehend what you’ve said. “With me?” He points to himself. The words make his confidence rise exponentially. “You were trying to flirt with me?” 

“With you.” You confirm with a slow nod. You start laughing, but it’s soft and happy. “Of course I was! I wanted you to remember me! How could I do that if I called you what everybody else does?” 

“I don’t know. Anything else?” He laughs along with you. “I…” He shakes his head with a smile. 

You both settle and Bucky hears you inhale sharply. “The salt to come see you and talk, the cookies and treats for Alpine… I’ve had this huge crush on you since you moved in.” You say softly. 

Bucky nods, he could see it now. Then he starts laughing again. He feels you smack his shoulder. “I’m sorry… You… Sam said that those cookies and treats were you trying to get me and Alpine to like you.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “Keen eye. He saw I was flirting.” You tease gently. “Does it… Does it bother you? Or change anything? The fact that I was flirting?” You ask softly and full of nerves. 

Bucky smiles sweetly. “That depends. Do you still want to flirt with me?” 

You narrow your eyes, but nod. “I don’t ask just any boy to sleep in the same bed as me.” 

“Just me and Alpine?” Bucky nudges your knee with his. You nod softly and he inhales a deep, nervous breath. “It worked.” He says quietly. 

You nudge his knee back. “It did?” 

He turns to look at you again. You’re already looking up at him with hopeful eyes and Bucky feels his heart race. “Yeah. I like you a lot. I don’t... I haven’t felt this way in a long time.” 

A smile breaks out on your face. “I like you a lot too.” You whisper, like you’re afraid anything louder will break the moment. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers back. You nod excitedly and lean towards him. Bucky places a gentle hand on your cheek as shuts his eyes and leans in. 

His chest warms when your lips press against his tentatively, like you’re both still nervous it’s not real. Your lips are soft and Bucky knows his own are chapped, but he feels you smile against him and can’t stop his own smile from overtaking his face. 

You pull away, but you’re still close enough that your lips are brushing against his. He’s caught up in the moment staring at you when he feels something rub against his shin. 

It makes you pull apart. Alpine is rubbing himself against both your legs and purring softly. Bucky presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“Think you won both of us over.” 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // what do you do when your midterm is an essay & gave you a headache? write bucky barnes fanfiction. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. ps i’ve seen some spelling mistakes promise to edit those in the morning!

[p0orbaby]

Natasha x female!reader request where r was on a mission for a week & calls on the day she’s coming back but calls nat, “natasha” which she panicked to bc she thinks r is mad at her bc he only ever calls her darling or honey or something but r already hung up. so nat runs down to the kitchen where the avengers are & hurriedly asks wanda to help her make r’s fav muffins (thinking it’d help) & wanda is amused & agrees. when r arrives they’re not done yet & when nat hears r come & asks the team where “natasha” is she panicks more & hides behind the counter, r asks friday, who tells her that nat is in the kitchen, r is confused not seeing her but she smells what wanda is making & says something like “wanda !!darling!! are those my fav muffins oh i love u!” & nat just gets mad and upset at that, especially after finding out r wasn’t even ever mad at her lmao she just said her name, natasha 😃

This was such a request! Thanks for sending it in🥰

Authors note - a little one as I slowly ease myself back into posting fics. Had abit of writers block but I’m getting there!

Warnings - language (what as surprise😂). Sexual themes.

-

A Slight Misunderstanding

As much as you enjoyed your line of work, you loved it more when it was time to come back home. You could deal with the uncomfortable bed. You could stomach the dozens of terrible microwave meals you had to consume. But the one thing you struggled with was being away from Natasha.

Being involved in a covert operation meant that you couldn’t call home and speak to her and you hated every second of it. Distance makes the heart for fonder they say, and truer words have never been spoken. So as soon as you were extracted from your safe house and on the Quinjet heading towards home, you picked up the phone to ring your girlfriend.

“Hey baby” Natasha sounded through the phone after a few rings.

“Hello Natasha, it’s nice to hear your voice”

“Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah I’m here, can you hear me?”

“You keep breaking up Y/N”

“Nat-“ the call was cut off abruptly with three loud beeps, “Goddammit!”

-

“What do you mean she said your name? Isn’t that what people generally do when addressing someone?” Wanda just chuckled as she flopped down next to Natasha on your bed. Confused as to what the big deal was.

“I suppose, but she never calls me that, it’s always Nat or baby or-“

“Okay I get it, she never calls you by your actual name. So what do you think’s up?”

“I don’t know but I don’t like it whatever it is. Maybe she had a bad mission or she’s annoyed with me for some reason?”

“How could she by annoyed with you when you’ve not even spoken to her for a week?”

“I don’t know but something’s not right. Maybe I should do something nice for her for when she gets back just in case she is upset. At least then I might be able to butter her up a little before I grovel at her feet”

“I very much doubt that’s what’s going happen but if it makes you feel better. What do you have in mind?”

“She’s probably sick to death of instant noodles so maybe some good old fashioned banana muffins. Wanna help?”

“Might as well, I haven’t got anything better to do. And if she is pissed at you it’ll be funny to watch when she gets back”

-

Luckily the journey back wasn’t too long so you made it back to the compound in earlier enough that everyone should still be up and awake.

As soon as you landed you unbuckled yourself from your seat and made a hasty exit from the jet in hopes of spending some quality time with Natasha. However when you get inside, she was nowhere to be found.

Not in your bedroom, not in the gym. Vanished. She would normally be waiting on the tarmac for you so something must be up for her to not even bother greeting you upon your return.

You decided to make your way to the kitchen to grab some snacks before you showered and changed, when you saw the team sitting in the common room which adjoined the kitchen.

“Hey guys” you said as you entered the room.

“Oh hi Y/N, when did you get back? Nat didn’t say anything” Steve asked.

“Landed about 5 minutes ago. Actually, have any of you seen Natasha? I can’t find her anywhere”

-

“Did you just hear that?” Natasha asked Wanda in a worried tone from where they were both situated in the kitchen.

“No what was it?”

“I just heard Y/N say Natasha again. Christ I didn’t think she’d be back so soon”

“Nat I think you’re just being paranoid, there’s probably nothing even-“

“Oh god she’s coming” how she could even hear your footsteps Wanda would never know.

“I need to hide. I need more time to think about how I’m going to make it up to her” and with that Natasha ducked behind the kitchen island, just in time for you to enter the room.

When you passed the threshold, Natasha was still nowhere to be seen. Was Steve lying to you when you asked where she was? And if no, then where on Earth could she have gone?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y can you tell me where Natasha is please, I can’t seem to find her”

“Miss Romanoff is currently in the kitchen Miss L/N”. Maybe you needed to get Tony to have a look at F.R.I.D.A.Y’s circuit boards, because Natasha was definitely not in the kitchen.

“Oh, hey Wanda I didn’t see you there. Oh my God what’s that smell? Are they my favourite muffins. Wands, my darling, I love you so much you know that right?”

Natasha wasn’t having that at all. How could she put up with you being annoyed with her for no apparent reason and then hear you telling Wanda you love her. Nope, not okay.

“What did you just say?” Natasha jumped out from behind her hiding spot behind the island.

“Jesus, why on Earth would you jump out on my like that Natasha? Why are you even hiding down there? I’ve been looking all over for you”

“Stop calling me that!”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you’re annoyed with me then just say so Y/N. I can’t take the suspense”

“I have no idea what’s going on right now”

“What have I done? I’m sorry for whatever It is please forgive me!”

“Wanda can you please explain what’s happening because I’m a little lost”

“She thinks you’re upset with your because you called her Natasha, and apparently you only say it when you mad at her”

“Are you being serious, that’s what all this is about?”

“You called me Natasha and then hung up the going what was I supposed to think! Then I heard you ask they guys and F.R.I.D.A.Y too. I thought I was in the doghouse”

“I had no service baby, I was trying to see if you were there. Then the phone cut off, I didn’t hang up on you”

“Oh” embarrassment evident on your girlfriends face.

“I told you! We’ve made these muffins for no reason now!” Wanda exclaimed throwing her arms in the air.

“Ah no, not for no reason, I still want them”

“I’m an idiot” your girlfriend pouted and Awh friend towards you.

“Just a tad, but I still love you Natasha”

“Hey I thought-“

“I’m joking, let’s go upstairs, I want to say hello properly” you winked at her as you held out you hand for her to take.

“Ew, not something I needed to hear” Wanda gagged from where she was stood, shaking her head as she checked on the muffins.

-

Taglist

@jromanoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx

[silkscream]

Not original request.... I know but I've been thinking about this scenario for a looong while. Let's say reader dislikes Spiderman for sooome reason? Ummm and reader is besties buddies chums pals with Peter and she expresses her dislikes all the time, like he's a poser, he's not a real hero blah blah blah. (bc of this peter doesn't want reader to find out his real identity!) One day somehow somewhere reader finds out our dear Peter is spidey. Reader is kinda upset bro,,, hmmm why tho? Let's see why, flashback! An accident, spiderman was there, reader was there, reader was injured badly but survived, all without spideys help. Is this too much? U can ignore or change it i dont mind, i just wanted to tell this idea to someone since i cannot write 🐸thank u

ty for your idea!!! here it is for u bb

Speaking Terms

pairing: peter parker x reader

genres: (one-sided) enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst and fluff

warnings: language, vomiting, alcohol use, making out, unedited

summary: you hate spider-man but you love peter parker. what happens when your worlds collide?

wc: 6k (this was going to be short but alas...)

Peter’s swinging through the city, as a Spiderman does, except it’s rush hour during Tuesday and he promised Aunt May that he’d pick up a few things from the grocery store. Happy was coming over for dinner and although Aunt May was notorious for some subpar cooking, the woman knew how to make a mean spaghetti dish, at least. This is why, at the moment, Peter was swinging through the city with a baguette in one hand, flying through florist kiosks and on the tops of halal carts.

You roll your eyes at the sight of him. Having Spiderman as New York City’s mascot wasn’t as fun as you’d think… at least in your opinion. You considered the hero pompous and obnoxious, annoyed by his popularity like the way you would feel about an earnest football quarterback or valedictorian.

The red-suited spider-human nearly hits you on his way. You flinch, causing one of your earbuds to pop out of your ear. Great, I can’t have one walk home without Spiderman interrupting my SZA session.

“Sorry! ‘Scuse me! My bad! Oh hey, cool shirt, I love Star Wars... OOF—“

You try not to laugh but it’s irresistible. Peter plops right into a pole, sliding down with cartoon-esque gravity.

“Try not to get squashed, Web-head!” you call after him.

Peter shakes his head like an etch-a-sketch and turns to you, waving sheepishly with the baguette.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

___

“Peter, how are you a fucking Avenger, and yet there are so many Tiktoks of you like this?”

The boy turns towards MJ and peers at her phone screen. He groans at the sight of it and wipes his face with his hand. That god-awful Tiktok song with its high-pitched “oh no!” loops over footage of Spiderman swinging right into a pole. Peter softens slightly when he notices your figure in the video.

“Oh, shit, that’s Y/N!” MJ points. Ned gestures for the phone and examines.

“Dude, when are you gonna tell her?” Ned urges Peter. Peter sighs, knowing full well that his friendship with you would be a whole lot easier if you knew about his secret identity, especially considering how close you were getting. Not to mention you were the only one in the group who didn’t know.

“Tell who what? Is it me? Is someone waiting to confess their undying love for me?”

Peter’s head whips around and meets you with a crinkly-eyed smile. You reciprocate it and set your lunch tray across from his.

“Yeah, that and somethin’ else too,” MJ mumbles to herself. She glares at Peter when she feels his black Van sneaker kick her in the shin. In response, she returns the kick, but three times harder, making Peter verbally yelp in his seat.

“Are you guys good?” you frown, raising an eyebrow.

“Peter’s being shy today! You know how he is,” Ned teases. He pokes Peter in the ribs much to his dismay.

“No, everyone at this lunch table has decided to have it out for me, apparently,” mumbles Peter. “Y/N is the only one here who’s actually nice to me.”

You snort. You wouldn’t admit to anyone else (except maybe Michelle, who knows everyone’s business before they can find out, just by observation), but Peter is probably your favorite person at Midtown High. Your small crush on him since last year only grew exponentially over time and would fluctuate drastically once you started hanging out with him, Ned, and MJ.

Ned laughs at his phone and you glance over his shoulder. A red and blue blur flies through the air between the skyscrapers.

“Oh, hey, I was there when he ran into that pole. Idiot,” you muse. “God, it was hilarious.”

“Yeah, shit’s been trending all over TikTok,” MJ quips.

“I seriously don’t get everyone’s obsession with him.”

“Well… he is a superhero,” Peter tries, shrugging. He feels as though his attempts at being casual are futile. He tries not to make it seem like Spiderman is an awkward subject for him, but you notice he always shifts in his seat when you rant about the masked vigilante.

“Yeah? One out of a dozen. And all they do is fuck up the city as if we aren’t already suffering from horrible infrastructure.”

“Well, Mr. Stark is actually really philanthropic—“ You cut Peter off.

“He’s the worst of them! His whole company is weird and capitalistic and the fact that everyone is so obsessed with him and Spiderman just proves that no one gives a fuck about how the Avengers are essentially no better than our own military. Our country is the one breeding terrorists and now we have some dudes parading in leotards helping the government make nuclear weapons.”

The table goes silent. You sigh heavily, hating to be the outlier because you know your friends are rather fond of Spiderman. You know that Peter interns for Tony Stark, but your dislike for superheroes in general manifests itself in an ugly way sometimes.

“Jeez, I thought I was the buzzkill,” MJ attempts, trying to clear the air with her sarcastic humor. You roll your eyes.

“Sorry for talking shit about your boss.” You flash Peter a small, apologetic smile. He returns it, tight-lipped with pinkish cheeks. He shrugs.

“Nah, everything you said was pretty valid. I just don’t get what the problem with Spiderman specifically is, though.”

“Yeah! He’s just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman! Just some guy,” Ned chimes in.

“Yes, just some guy. Nothing special,” you retort. You lock eyes with Peter and swear you see a glint of melancholy in his brown eyes.

__

You and Peter Parker are friends. This is a mantra you have to tell yourself repeatedly. Especially now at this moment, considering you’re at a party watching Liz Allan kiss him square on the lips. You’ve decided now that your little crush is over and was never sustainable in the first place. Instead, you blame your drunken state for your bad mood. Not them. Everything was perfectly fine in your world. At least until you’re able to stuff your tears into your pillow when you get home.

When Peter pulls away from Liz, his eyes flash at you. You can’t fathom the look on his face, wondering if what he feels is pity or guilt. You smile at him, glassy-eyed and grim, before turning your heels to find MJ and another red solo cup to fill at the keg. You sigh a breath of relief once you find her on the patio outside.

“You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost,” MJ says, twirling the straw in her cup.

“Nope, just Liz making out with Parker.”

“No fucking way! Did he cream his pants?” MJ asks with her mouth agape. You shrug nonchalantly and mumble something incoherent. Her eyes soften at you. “You don’t still have a crush on him, do you?”

“No,” you scoff. She looks at you knowingly. You’ve always been a bad liar — it was Michelle who found out about your feelings anyway just by guessing. You weren’t intending to fall asleep with Peter in his hotel bed on the Washington D.C. trip, but you did. And it didn’t help that that had happened another time at Peter’s after a movie marathon. No, it was fine. Liz Allan wasn’t the most popular girl in school for no reason.

“How much did you have to drink?” Michelle cocked an eyebrow.

“Enough. I think I’m gonna head home,” you murmur, downing the rest of your cup.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no! I need to walk alone. I’ve been feeling weird all night.” Your voice is small and you’re not exactly lying, so MJ simply nods and gives you a soft smile back.

__

You’re only a couple blocks away from your apartment before you hear whistles from around the alley. Inside your denim jacket, you grip the Swiss army knife that your dad had gifted you last Christmas.

“Look at those legs, mama!”

Your hands are digging into your pockets as you walk faster, not bothering to look behind you.

“Hey, baby, where ya goin’?” Two men block your path. They’re probably twenty years your senior, one sporting a goatee and the other with a five o’clock shadow. Their devilish Cheshire-grins make you shiver, or maybe it’s the wind.

“Fuck off,” you mutter. There’s nowhere to go with them blocking the sidewalk, and for once in all of history, the street you’re on is completely empty. Of fucking course.

“You look lonely, babes, wanna hang out with us?” one of them sneers at you. You shake your head and try to keep your face stoic and hard.

“Don’t tease her, Kenny, she doesn’t seem like much of a talker!” roars one of the men. He looks like an older, uglier version of Robert Pattinson in Good Time. You scan him up and down. You’re supposed to remember as many details as you can about your kidnapper, right? You try to memorize his blue eyes and red Carhartt beanie before his buddy speaks up.

“I know something that’ll loosen her up.”

You’re about to sprint when “Kenny” grabs you by the wrist, snaking you towards his body and holding you by the waist. Your heart beats like a bass drum and your senses are overflowing with anger mixed with adrenaline mixed with sheer, unadulterated anxiety. Suddenly, all those self-defense tactics you taught yourself aren’t anywhere in your brain, mind going blank. Your knee-jerk reaction comes eventually within seconds as your canines bite as hard as they can into the man’s flesh, to which he screams and loosens his grip. Red Beanie subdues you immediately, taking over your smaller size and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Right as you twist around and kick him in the groin, a web rapidly hits him hard enough to propel him into a nearby car. You’re distracted for a second. Somehow seeing the red and blue suit perched on the street lamp above you makes you feel angrier despite the relief he was probably giving you.

“I don’t think so, sir!” Spiderman effectively kicks Kenny to the pavement before he’s able to move. The hero’s foot steps harder on the man’s face as blood permeates the asphalt along with one or two teeth. “That’s not how you try to win over a lady’s attention.”

Releasing him, Kenny attempts to throw a punch at Peter but the boy easily escapes with cat-like (spider-like?) reflexes. He subdues the man and webs him to the alley-wall, to which Kenny reacts with a string of expletives and a whole lot of spitting.

“Guess you guys never learned your manners, huh?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, shivering.

“You okay, miss?” Peter asks you, Spider-eyes wide. He doesn’t understand the scowl on your face — shouldn’t you be relieved that he’d just saved you from attempted assault?

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” you grumble. “I could’ve handled that myself but thanks for the free entertainment. Have you considered changing your script? It’s a bit corny.”

“What, you don’t like my lines?” Peter jokes. You stare at him blankly. Under his mask, he frowns. It didn’t occur to him how much you actually dislike Spiderman until now.

“Have a good night, Spidey,” you grimace, saluting him and going on your way. Peter clearly can’t take the hint, even though your demeanor is like a light-up sign.

“W-wait! Can I walk you home?”

You scoff, laughing darkly. “If that’s what’s gonna help you sleep tonight.”

“I… don’t understand. Are you mad that I just rescued you?”

“You didn’t rescue me. I’ve lived in New York City all my life, of course, I’ve been mugged once or twice,” you snap.

“Listen, you don’t know what could’ve happened to you if I wasn’t there.”

“Are you demanding a thank you? Because I already said thanks. I’m okay. I’m alive.”

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles, still following you to your home. He scratches his head awkwardly. “Are you really okay, though?”

You sigh. First, your ego gets killed by the sight of your crush with someone else. Second, you nearly become an unsolved true crime case for the NYPD. Now, you were walking home with someone you’d rather not encounter at this close of a proximity ever. You bite your tongue. You’ve been rude enough to the hero — commenting on his Spandex-covered appearance wasn’t going to add anything to your already seething rage.

“No. I’ve had a shit night. This really topped it all off, though.”

“At least you’re safe,” Peter tries. He doesn’t know what to say to you. Even at school and during your hangouts, he’s always been a bit shyer around you, especially because you were the newest to the group and not yet a FOS. If anything, you were a HOS (Hater of Spiderman).

“Uh-huh,” you mumble solemnly.

“Um, I like your outfit. Went to a party or something?”

“Uh-huh,” you reply with the same monotony. You don’t know what time it is but you’re absolutely exhausted. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a teenager probably a few years younger than you on a bicycle. His jaw is wide open and you glare back. Your features soften when you remember your unlikely companion beside you. Spiderman waves at the kid and you hear a whispered “holy shit.” It’s the first time you laugh that whole night.

“Does all this popularity ever get to your head?” you cock your head at your companion.

“Nah. Not everyone likes me. You’re an example.”

You take a breath and look at the masked boy apologetically. You may be a bit drunk, but you get it, kind of. Spiderman’s charm. You liked the sound of his voice, you realize, because it feels like something warm and familiar. You realize he’s probably around your age or only a little bit older. It makes you pity him a bit.

Peter notices how slow you’re walking and offers to swing you to your apartment. Fuck it. You agree.

__

Swinging under Spiderman’s grip was probably the worst idea of the night, because your system is full of mixed liquors, and now New York’s favorite superhero is holding your hair back in your own bathroom while you puke your brains out. You decide your life is a comedy. A black comedy.

Despite your protests, Peter carries you bridal-style to your bed, plopping your body down as he helps you take off your jacket. You’re still in a mildly drunken state so you don’t think about how this stranger is in your room, watching you take off your dress. Peter’s eyes widen and he awkwardly turns around for your own privacy. You chuckle at his shyness.

“What, you never seen a girl naked before?” you tease.

“Not really, no,” Peter mumbles.

“For real? You’re a fucking superhero and you’re telling me you get no hoes.”

Peter shrugs. “Too busy saving people and keeping the streets clean, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, remembering your dislike for Spiderman. Although, maybe it isn’t exactly the person in front of you that you dislike, but rather the association you have with Avengers and cops. You absolutely hated systems of authority and considered Spiderman a pawn for the NYPD. You wouldn’t admit this to him now, though, because, for one, you’re too tired, and secondly, you find yourself entranced by the broadness of the hero’s shoulders and thick thighs. You wonder briefly how he looks underneath his suit.

You’re left in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt, so you tell Spiderman he can turn around again.

“Woooow, I see how it is,” he says, and you cackle. “You did that on purpose!”

He sits on your bed and lightly tugs the hem of your t-shirt sporting Captain America’s logo. For the next three hours, the two of you make interesting conversation (save for your interjections at Spiderman’s… craft). The two of you have more in common than you would’ve guessed, and now you’re cursing yourself slightly for how much you want to kiss the masked stranger in front of you. You’re sitting on your bed together, thighs touching.

Mindlessly, you take his hand, examining the thin material of his red suit.

“Sorry for being so mean, earlier,” you mumble. “Guess it’s just ironic how you actually saved me considering the last time.”

“What do you mean, last time?” Peter asks. A beat passes. Your swallow a lump in your throat.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Peter shakes his head. Has he met you before as Spiderman?

“A year ago, I was walking around 8th and there was this huge explosion. The car bomb, remember? And you were there obviously getting the bad guys and shit but right when it happened, you… you saved my friend instead of me. Like, she was completely unscathed meanwhile I got hit by so much fucking shrapnel and then kept getting nightmares about it for months after.”

You purse your lips.

Peter’s eyes widen when he remembers the incident. Before he saved Liz Allan from falling down the suspending elevator at the Washington monument, he saved her a first time in Manhattan. His senses were loud enough to save her before the bomb had gone off. It was a small explosion, but an explosion nonetheless, big enough to fuck up the pizzeria near Port Authority. He suddenly remembered that Liz was hanging out with you.

Peter didn’t remember the exact moment, but you did. The two of you had locked eyes when you had gotten injured despite all the debris, clouding everyone’s vision, and before he could even think about making his way to you, Liz had hugged him as tightly as she could. Seconds later, he was distracted by the culprit of the crime and swung away after Liz’s affections. You were on the ground, slightly bloodied with a bruised rib that took a few weeks to heal. You didn’t want to feel ill will towards Liz, but the incident stuck in your brain. It felt rude and intentional that Spiderman didn’t bother with even trying to save you, but in reality, Peter was just too scatterbrained to pay attention.

How did he not recognize you? He had noticed you had taken a week off at school, but he wasn’t very close to you. All you knew was that you were close friends with MJ and Liz and you shared a few classes.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N”, he whispers, taking his gloved hand to cradle your jaw to look up at him. Your eyes narrow.

“Wait, how do you know my name?”

The boy panics, but luckily his eyes fall onto the birthday card taped to your wall behind you. It was from your 16th from MJ, who had drawn a cartoon version of you and her with your name in bubble letters. He nods to it.

“Oh, right.”

“I’m really sorry, I swear. I… I wish I could go back in time. I’m so sorry.”

You turn your face away from him. You feel embarrassed about your dislike for him. Were you just… jealous of Liz? Maybe. But now your body felt hot from shame because of how sweet you learned Spiderman to be. You also feel nervous about how intimate the current moment feels.

“I always beat myself up about that kind of stuff. Not being able to save everyone. I want you to know that everything that happened that day was… was fucked up, but I didn’t turn away from you on purpose,” Peter breathes.

“I don’t need your pity, Spidey. It may have been traumatizing but you made me realize that I can take care of myself just fine on my own. Without anyone’s help.”

“You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

For some reason, you decide to touch where his neck meets his collarbone, and you lift his mask the slightest bit. Peter feels like he might choke.

“What are you doing?”

You lift higher but not enough to even see Peter’s nose. You see his pale skin and the sharpness of his jaw and you smooth a thumb over it.

“Just remembering that you’re human,” you muse quietly. “I’m sorry, I’m overstepping, aren’t I?”

“You’re fine.” Peter’s head is reeling. He quite literally forgets how to breathe. When did the two of you get so close to each other?

“I forgive you. Sorry for being a cunt.”

“You aren’t… that.” You chuckle in response.

“What are you thinking about?”

Peter swallows before he answers. He feels like he’s teetering on something where he has a higher chance of falling. There’s a pit in his stomach with your name on it.

“How I wanna kiss you,” he replies, his voice just above a whisper.

“Go ahead, Spidey.”

He puts a hand over your eyes, the other on his face to lift up his mask a little more. Slowly, he puts his lips on yours. Peter knows you can’t see his face, but he feels naked all the same. He’s nearly convinced you can hear how loud his heart is beating. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you sigh into his mouth. His thin lips are softer than you’d expected.

Your hand is clenching his thigh and you do everything in your power to not just climb into his lap. You’re on your knees in your bed lifting your head up to meet Peter’s lips, and he removes his hand from your eyes to cradle your cheeks. As if he’s read your mind, he pulls you towards him so that you’re on his lap straddling him.

A groan tickles its way out of Peter’s throat and it sounds like heaven to your ears. You open your eyes as he pulls away slowly and notices the tiniest cut on the corner of his mouth. You close your eyes again and kiss him there, then his jaw, then down his neck until the fabric of his suit prevents you from going lower. You’re reveling at the fact that you’re making Spiderman moan. How are you going to break this news to Michelle?

“Fuck,” Peter murmurs, eyes fluttering at the feeling of your soft lips on his skin. He tilts your chin up so he can kiss you breathless. Your hands are pawing at him now —you’re desperate to feel skin. Before you nearly get on top of him, Peter pulls away, making you whine.

“We can’t get carried away, baby,” he whispers.

“Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not safe for you.”

“I have condoms,” you grin. He laughs at your statement. It’s a high-pitched, boyish laugh. Where have you heard that before?

“You know what I mean.”

He runs his long fingers through your hair and you purr like a kitten. The fabric of his gloved hands makes it so your hair frizzes a bit, which makes Peter chuckle. You look adorable just like this, under your string lights in just a t-shirt with your hair wild.

It makes his heart ache once he realizes what he’s done. He doesn’t know how he’ll react to seeing you in school, in a setting under awful fluorescent lights, and in a group where you’re known as just his friend.

He’s also guilty because Liz kissed him at the party and he has no idea where that’s going, either. It’s not like he can date Liz and have Spiderman date you. Did he want to date Liz? Did he want to date you? He doesn’t know the answer to either of these questions, but at the moment, he’s absolutely smitten with you, and he realizes that he’s fucked either way.

“I think I should go,” the hero gulps.

“Can you at least stay with me until I fall asleep? Please?” you urge.

He sighs and nods. He might as well enjoy his moments with you, your head curled into his chest with his arms around you. He feels silly that he’s in a girl’s bed wearing his suit. It feels like a cheap costume to him right now. He feels like a fraud.

___

It’s three in the morning when you wake up. You don’t know what wakes you up. You were just having a lovely dream about being on a date with Spiderman, which ended right as you were about to lift his mask. Turning to your side, you see that Spiderman is still in your bed, fast asleep as you just were. The sight makes your heart beat faster.

How strange it was, to have a new crush on someone you disliked. On someone whose identity you didn’t even know, though, after the entire night, you feel like you had grown up with the boy next to you. It takes everything in you to not pry off his mask while he sleeps. You know he’d probably hate you for it and you’d never see him again.

Half an hour passes. Or is it an hour? Either way, you can’t get back to sleep, so naturally, you look at your Twitter feed and check your email and other mundane things on your phone. You finally check your texts, something you’re usually awful at, and chuckle at the texts from your group chat. Peter and Ned were gushing about something related to Dune, which you didn’t care about considering you weren’t a science fiction nerd like them. You hold down on MJ’s text mocking them to give it a heart.

Something vibrates. Your eyebrows furrow, looking for the source of it until your eyes settle on a black backpack near your window. You remembered being curious about the backpack when Spiderman was walking you home, but after swinging with him, your brain was a blur by the time you were vomiting. Carefully, you get out of bed and crawl on your carpeted floor so you don’t disturb Spiderman’s slumber. The front pocket is zipped open slightly, and an iPhone is illuminated. You take it out of its pocket and your eyes widen at what you see.

(Y/N) loved a message

Your mouth gapes open. You see your name on the screen, as well as about four texts from Aunt May. It hits you like a train.

Peter is Spiderman. Spiderman is Peter.

You turn around and look back at the masked vigilante. Peter Parker is asleep in my bed right now.

If you weren't wrecked with tiredness, maybe you’d freak out. Well, you are freaking out, but there was nothing you could do unless you felt like waking Peter up just to yell and interrogate him. Instead, you crawl back to bed and attempt to fall asleep, though you’re aching to take off Peter’s mask just to see his face for real. You fall asleep eventually with Peter stirring and wrapping an arm around you.

___

Peter’s gone by the time you wake up. You contemplate texting him but you can’t. You ignore his texts about the physics homework, and the banter in your group chat, and MJ’s questions about whether or not you made it home safely. You don’t say anything to anyone for the rest of the weekend.

By the time Monday rolls around, you’ve still avoided Peter, but you manage to corner MJ privately.

Before she’s able to ask you what’s wrong, you interrupt her.

“I kissed Peter.”

“What?”

Your lips form a thin line.

“Dude, when? At the party? Or after?”

“After.”

“Holy shit. I thought he got with Liz!” MJ whispers, eyes wide. You bite your lower lip.

“I don’t know if he did or not,” you shrug. “I went home and I almost got mugged but Spiderman saved me and then he walked me home and then he stayed over and now I don’t hate him anymore I guess.”

MJ’s eyes are nearly bugging out of her skull with her forehead crinkling in confusion. Suddenly, her face relaxes but her pupils are still black and wide. You see the realization in her face. She knows. Do they all know?

“If I ask you something, do you promise to tell me the truth?” you ask earnestly. For once, MJ is an open book. Her face reeks of guilt in contrast to your begging eyes.

She opens her mouth as if to answer you but closes it. Conveniently, the bell rings.

“MJ, please.” You tug on her arm but she shakes her head.

“You should talk to Peter.” A beat passes and she walks away from you. You sigh in defeat and gather your books from your locker. In the mirror on your locker door, you see a familiar mop of brown hair. Peter watches you from afar with an expression you can’t put a name to. Before you can catch up to him, he slips away.

___

mj: have you talked to Y/N today?

peter: no i havent

mj: ok

peter: why?

mj: nothing, just wondering

peter: she seems kind of out of it today. i feel like she’s avoiding me

peter: …is she avoiding me?

Peter’s in the darkness of his room, face illuminated by his phone screen. He watches an animated bubble at the bottom of his screen, which suddenly stops. He groans. Usually, MJ and he share everything, but now that you were in the mix, he can’t help but speculate that something was wrong.

He knows it’s a bad idea. He knows. But after last night, his heart’s been yearning for you and you wouldn’t bat an eye at him all day. Considering MJ confirmed your suspicions, you decide that school grounds weren’t the most appropriate place to confront Peter about his secret identity. You didn’t know where a good place was, or when a good time was, so you decided to avoid the ordeal completely. Maybe it was a one-time thing. You did watch Peter make out with Liz, and him making out with you was probably just a fluke because of how you’d just spent hours with one another. He didn’t actually like you. Boys are… boys.

You try not to let it get to you. Even when you notice Peter watching you in English class, to which you flash him a quick smile so that he doesn’t notice your somber demeanor. If you looked back at him for too long, you thought you might’ve cried.

You try to forget about the past twenty-four hours by putting on a random Netflix comedy, but it’s merely background noise to your extremely loud thoughts. You jump at the sound of knocking at your window, and when you peel back your curtains, your eyes widen at the sight of a familiar red and blue-suited figure. He waves at you lamely.

“Can I come in?”

You nod, lifting your window open.

“Hi,” you breathe. You try not to give away your grin. You’ve convinced yourself Peter doesn’t like you, nor does Spiderman, yet the sight in front of you makes your heart ecstatic.

“Hi.”

“Shouldn’t you be fighting bad guys or something?”

“You were more important.” Heat rises to your face. You don’t say anything.

“I feel like I’m putting you in danger just by being here but I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. Couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you,” he says softly.

“Me neither.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers and you beam at him, lifting his mask.

Delicately, you kiss him like your mouth is a butterfly landing on his flower of a mouth. He responds with a sweet sigh. It’s like Peter’s brain is short-circuited, glitching, a thousand tabs open in his mind with just you on every page.

He hums as you pull him closer, holding your cheeks until he feels dampness. Opening his eyes, he sees your face littered with tears.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His heart aches at the sight of you.

“I just feel like no matter what, this is going to end badly.” You don’t say this out loud. Instead, you smile sweetly at him, wiping your tears, and you lock lips again. Peter feels like he’s absorbing your pain. He pushes you towards your bed until you both fall onto it with him on top of you.

He kisses alongside your jaw and squeezes the flesh that’s right above your hip. He’s taking advantage of the fact that you’re wearing a crop top. His hands explore your love handles and the small of your back and the spot in between your underwear and your navel.

“Touch me, Peter,” you whisper. It doesn’t even register in your brain that you actually said that, but Peter hears it as clear as day.

“You called me Peter.”

You don’t know what to say. Your jaw is slack and he pulls away from you, instead sitting at the edge of your bed.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you stammer. Peter pulls his mask down over his mouth quickly.

“How did you know? Did.. did you know this whole time? And you hate Spiderman and… I don’t…” Peter struggles with things to say because of how off-guard he is. He didn’t know what he was doing. Hell, he was a teenage boy before he was a superhero. He didn’t know what this relationship with you was or how far he was going to let it go, but all he knew was that he wanted to be absorbed in you for however long you’d have him. Separate from his “real life”. Separate from Peter Parker, because God knows how your friendship would be affected.

“I-I didn’t know. Not until last night. We’re in the same group chat, you know,” you explain.

“Fuck, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to find out!” You wince at his raised voice.

“Why not? Doesn’t MJ know? And Ned? Why am I not supposed to know?” you argue.

“You hate Spiderman.”

Your face falls. It hits you that every time you’ve said something harshly negative about Spiderman, Peter was right there to hear it. It makes you sick to your stomach how you must’ve made him feel.

“I love Peter. So I love Spiderman, too. Or I can learn to. I promise.”

“You what?”

“I really like you, Peter.”

With that, Peter takes off his mask and looks at you with his melancholic brown eyes. He stares at you intensely before bridging the gap between you two again. He kisses you properly now like he means it, twirling a lock of your hair in his fingers, leaning into you closer and closer.

“Do you… pity… me?” you mumble in between kisses.

“Why would I?” Peter furrows his brows.

“You like Liz.” You feel pathetic. Everything happening was much too confusing for your brain to handle at the moment.

“I… I thought I liked Liz, but I think I was just in love with the idea of her. I’m pretty sure she kissed me to try to get over Harry Osborn, too. I like you. I didn’t know what to do about it because I feel like there was this weird tension between us and I didn’t know if it was romantic or sexual or negative.”

“Peter, why would it be negative?”

“You just hated Spiderman this whole time that I let myself believe that you hated Peter Parker in the back of your mind, too.”

You laugh and shake your head. You kiss him again passionately, nibbling his lower lip slightly.

“Peter, I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate you.”

Before he can answer, his words catch in your throat from being stuffed down with the sensation of your lips. His anxiety dissipates as he takes in the smell of your shampoo and the softness of your skin. He’d stay with you in your room forever if he could.

You didn’t think you’d ever warm up to Spiderman. You were plenty content letting him kiss you all over for the rest of the night — something you wouldn’t be able to fathom a week ago. You sigh at the feeling of Peter’s wet mouth on your neck. The two of you decide that forever can mean just for that night. Eventually, it becomes the next night, then the next, then the next. You never realized how much you actually love red and blue.

[lilac-5ky]

A Birthday Plot (Takasugi birthday oneshot)

A/N: As his legally wedded wife, I think that me writing an incredibly lengthy piece for his birthday, surprises no one. Takasugi is a character whom I utterly love, one who has helped me deal with many self issues and gotten me to accept myself. People outside the anime community will mock you if you suggest that a fictional character was enough to change your life, yet I feel no shame to admit that without him or Gintama, my mental state would have deteriorated a long time ago. Takasugi is the one who basically saved me and he's brought a great deal of happiness to my life, and for that, I will always be grateful to him and Sorachi. SO YEAH BEFORE THIS TURNS INTO A MUSHY EMOTIONAL SPEECH, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BELOVED SHINSUKE 💜💜💜

p.s. i really did time this to japan time so that it gets posted the same second his bday comes. aye.

Warning: Don't get fooled by the fluff, this turns into a full mode smut. But you know, it's full of love and fluff too so uwu.

adding this gif bcs his expression here overwhelms me and i wanna squeal.

Birthdays are special. You’ve always been a firm believer in that. When you are a child, you get to eat all the cake in the world undisturbed, getting coddled by family and friends alike. No one complains about you spending the entire day playing ‘kick the can’. No one asks you to do chores; you are free to do as you wish.

Birthdays really are special, but as time went by, you saw a less selfish reason as to why that was. It’s the one day of the year when you can celebrate and honor a person’s life and very existence, when you can return all the joy and happiness you’ve received tenfold. When you truly care about someone, their birthdays have even more importance than your own. Yet when it comes to the one you cared about, things did not come as easily.

Takasugi was never a big fan of birthdays. Even when the two of you were younger, he always spent his birthday like any other ordinary day at Shoka Sonjuku, bickering and getting into trouble with his friends. While Katsura wished him a “happy birthday” without fail, Gintoki’s teasing never seized. If anything, it was just an opportunity to remind him how another year had gone by with him not growing an inch, leading to even more arguing between the two.

At the end, Shouyou-sensei was the only one to try and make this day somewhat memorable, letting you play to your heart’s content and prepping a small gift for each of his pupils’ special day.

When it came down to you, Takasugi’s birthday was perhaps even more valued than your own. Ever since you were mere brats, your eyes had always been set on him, more so than on any of your other friends. For reasons you failed to understand, his happiness meant a great deal to you, and so, even if it was nothing but a small thing, you wanted to give him something that would make him smile.

The first present you could remember giving him was the silliest of the lot; a makeshift bouquet of freshly cut mountain flowers, one that you’d hastily shaped on your way back from the temple school when he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t much of a gift, for sure, but that was all you had to offer at the time.

The two of you paced side by side as per usual, the distance between your houses being relatively small and all. Though the walk was short, your anxiety made it feel as if you’d been on the road for hours. The fact that no one was around was enough to make your palms all sweaty, the green of the stems molding with your fingertips. It didn’t help that he’d chosen this day to keep to himself either, as if he had some sort of premonition as to what was about to happen.

Doing your best to forsake that gut wrenching feeling, you held onto the flowers as if your life depended on it. His house was the first on the line, yet rather than taking a left turn to reach your own home, you tagged along with him. Surprisingly enough he didn’t seem to mind, his attention turning to you only after you’d reached his front door. It was time.

“H-here!” You shut your eyes, extending the bouquet for him to grab. “Happy Birthday, Shinsuke-kun.”

The second he took them in his own hands, you had vanished into thin air. Your heart was beating so loud, that by the time your feet stopped moving, it felt as if your entire body was tossed inside an oven. When the oxygen returned to your lungs, you realized what a big idiot you were. Instead of waiting to see his reaction, you had ran away like a coward. What if he hated you now? What if he didn’t want to see you again? How would you face him? And lastly, why on earth would you gift a boy flowers?

Perhaps you were unsure of what that feeling that you felt for him was, but if you’d stayed just a second longer, you’d get to see how a bright shade of red clung onto his cheeks as well, his lips trembling between a frown and a shy smile.

Your second attempt at a birthday gift didn’t come until his next birthday. Despite neither of you bringing it up, the embarrassment of the flower incident managed to haunt you all year long. At times you mused over what had actually happened to the bouquet, though knowing him he’d probably discarded it. Well, that’d didn’t matter. It wasn’t a particularly bright idea to begin with, and now you were given a chance to redeem yourself. No matter what, past mistakes would not be repeated, a rule that did not necessarily apply to new ones.

This year, you had decided to put your mothers culinary teachings into practice by opting for a different kind of present, one that just about anyone would be able to appreciate; homemade cookies. Surely a birthday cake was far more suited for the occasion, but your skills were not honed for such a thing just yet. Cookies would have to do. Besides, your mother assured that they were most delicious.

The first thing you did in the morning of Takasugi’s birthday was to hide your gift underneath your desk, away from the prying eyes of your friends. For once, this was a present you could actually be proud of; packed in a small fancy box and kept together by an even fancier looking ribbon, the cookies looked as if they were straight from the bakery. Those half shredded daises you gave him last year would finally be erased from memory.

When the opportunity to approach him presented itself, you fished the box out, walking towards the boy with the biggest smile on your face. There was no reason for you to run away anymore, not when this was a guaranteed success.

“Happy Birthday, Shinsuke!”

The boy arched a brow, his curious expression studying your own and then the box, before finally relieving you of the burden. Things were moving along way better than they did last year. Or so you thought until the ribbon came off and you found yourselves staring at an empty metallic pit. Well, semi empty, that was. Other than a leftover cookie and many, many crumbs, everything you’d worked so hard for had turned into smoke.

Without saying a word, Takasugi picked up the remaining cookie, shifting it with his fingers while looking at it in disbelief. You didn’t know what to say. There was no way that box was empty when you left the house, and yet, there was no way to explain this. At least not until a certain silver-haired troublemaker passed you by with a face full of crumbs.

“Gintoki!” The two of you growled together in unison.

And that was how your birthday surprise was once again ruined.

It wasn’t until about three or four years later that you dared break through that birthday curse. In all those years that went by, you’d managed to identify those weird, swirling-like emotions as love. Or at least an early stage of it. With time, you were able to keep them under control around him, yet they remained the reason as to why you could never come up with a proper birthday gift. Celebrating another failure would not do. Next time you attempted to gift him something, it needed to be proper and well thought of, a present that equaled your feelings.

At least that was the thought, until the four of you officially joined the war. With Shouyou-sensei’s rescue being your primary goal, no one had the time nor the mind to fool around anymore. Not when death and destruction loomed right around the corner. However, Sakamoto’s eventual arrival did have an impact, restoring some of that past liveliness in your lives. After all, soldiers or not, you were still teenagers. A little fun here and there when the war was in a stalemate wouldn’t hurt.

With Takasugi’s birthday approaching, you found it hard to concentrate on anything other than finding the perfect gift, while he seemed to focus on literally anything else. When he wasn’t in the middle of fighting over every single petty thing with Gintoki, he was constantly working on new strategies and tactics, doing his best to predict every possible enemy movement in advance. His dedication was admirable, earning the respect of many fighters among your ranks. Yet that perseverance of his limited your gift choices, rounding them down to tools of practical usage. How unimaginative.

Time kept flowing, and you’d been unable to come up with a good idea, until one day you overheard an argument between him and Gintoki. The latter was accusing him of being unable to see past a meter because of his height, while Takasugi put the blame on the overgrown flora. It didn’t take long for things to get heated between them, each trying to bring the other’s head onto the ground in a contest to see who could reach lower. While an entertaining sight to behold, you had no time to spare on watching, not when you had finally come up with the greatest idea.

On the day of his birthday, you found yourself aimlessly circling through the woods. According to Katsura, the boy set out for the forest around noon, hoping to scout the area before nightfall. It wasn’t unlike Takasugi to take on objectives all by himself, refusing to ask for help even in the face of daunting tasks. Aware of that stubborn nature of his, you decided that rather than waiting around for him to return, it’d be better to go on the lookout yourself.

After searching just about every nook and cranny of the place, you were unable to find any sign of Takasugi, or anyone else for that matter. He might as well have turned back from a different path, leaving you to stand all alone in the desolate woods. The sun was about to go down and the first batch of stars were already appearing upon the sky. It was time to go. Finding him in the dark would be impossible anyway.

Having let out a disheartened sigh, you were about to give up when the sound of leaves rustling from up above caught your interest.

“Shinsuke?” You asked, perplexed as to why his face was buried between branches and leaves. A pair of sharp green eyes looked down on you, with the boy’s back leaning against the trunk and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Y/N.” He acknowledged without budging an inch. “Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you. Zura said you’d be here.”

The light hum of the cicadas was the only answer you received.

“I came here to bring you this.” You went on, ushering him to grab the bag from your hands. “It’s your birthday, remember? When I saw this I thought that you might find some use for it and I uhm…” Panic seeped through your words as you watched him take the pair of binoculars out. “I hope it’s to your liking. Happy Birthday!”

Takasugi carefully examined the object, his gesture reminding you of how keenly he had once studied that cookie you gave him. Though you couldn’t tell from down there, he seemed at the very least interested, bringing the binoculars to his eyes and then looking far into the distance.

“You can use these to spot ambushes or enemies in general, but you could also use them to gaze at pretty things from up close. I’ve seen you stare at the stars or the sea or other pretty things such as-“

“You.” He interrupted, the direction of his binoculars shifting.

The second you understood the meaning of his suggestion, you felt your entire face turning red, an expression he could easily spot with his new toy. Did he really mean what he just said? Did he really find you pretty? Did he actually look at you? All sorts of thoughts spiraled through your brain, until you realized that he wasn’t done talking.

“…should head back in. I’ll take care of things and join shortly.” At the sound of his words, you felt a weird rush of embarrassment and disappointment, resulting in your legs picking up a quick pace on their own.

Just when you thought you’d been able to escape, the sound of his voice made your feet come to a halt.

“Oh and Y/N?” He hesitated, briefly contemplating his own words. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

That was the first and the last actual gift you managed to give him. The war, your defeat, his injury, sensei… all those events that transpired changed Takasugi in unimaginable ways. Just like the rest of you, he’d lost so much during those years, yet he refused to ever let go. Ten years had passed since then; ten years of him living his own life as if it was borrowed; ten years of him throwing himself down the path of vengeance.

Although it was hard for you to see him progressively destroy himself, you knew that without a purpose he’d truly lose it. You understood that better than anyone. After all, you’d spent all these years by his side.

Perhaps you really were Takasugi’s final selfish need, a remnant of the past he couldn’t forsake. Be it persistence on your side or tolerance on his, you clung onto one another like no one else, promising to see the end of things together no matter what that meant. This was your pledge.

Considering birthdays during such a crucial point of your journey wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, yet part of you could not completely abandon your previous way of living. Even when he had no intention of celebrating the occasion, you found yourself reflecting upon the past times, wishing that just this once, you could return to the girl who schemed around his birthday plans.

“Why are you in such deep thought?”

The sound of his voice made you turn around to the direction of your bed. Despite being all dressed up, he was still sitting idle, not particularly willing to leave the comfort of your covers.

A light frown of his as you approached him was all it took to make you smile. Even when you’d grown accustomed to seeing that face on regular occasion, it didn’t seem to lose its appeal. He remained as endearing as ever.

You hummed softly, taking a seat by his side. Bringing up the past would likely turn the mood sour and foil all plans for the day. You had to carefully consider your choices before giving him an answer, or else everything you’d worked for would go to waste.

Takasugi patiently awaited your response, his eye trailing down to his fingers, mindlessly tugging at the roll of bandage between them.

“I was thinking about going to the city today.” You admitted, claiming the bandage from his hands. He stood still, watching as you pushed the hair off his forehead, wrapping the fabric around his left eye with great care.

“What for?” He asked, a pout taking shape on his face. Even when he let you handle such things for him, he’d much rather be the one taking care of himself. At the end, past this imposing and striking appearance, lied a bullheaded child.

“To replenish your stash.”

“My stash?” He arched a brow.

“Well…” You chuckled awkwardly, doing your best to play the part. “Can you blame me? This heatwave is unbearable and-”

“You drunk my yakult?” He interrupted, shooting you a glare.

“Yes… but I was planning on compensating you, as you see!”

It didn’t matter whether you upset him or not, as long as he took the bait. All you wanted was for him to be distracted enough so that when you reeled it back in, he’d be sure to follow. After all, this was nothing but a carefully planned ruse to get him to celebrate his own birthday.

With an apologetic smile, you cupped his face, ignoring his unamused expression.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I touch your stuff.”

He shook his head, some of his annoyance dissipating.

“Would you like to come with me? It’s been a long time since we last walked together, and well, carrying all that yakult by myself would be exhausting.”

“Just how much did you consume?”

If anyone heard the conversation between the two of you, they’d assume that you had committed a grave sin. His tone was stern and his expression strained, as if you’d just revealed to him that you’d sided with the Bakufu. Seeing such side of him resurface brought great joy to you, relieved that this part of him had survived the war.

“All of.. it?” This was a big oversight. Checking his actual stash beforehand completely slipped your mind. You could only hope that the amount was formidable enough to pique his interest.

“Three refrigerators?”

You widened your eyes, finding it hard to believe that he actually kept this much inside the ship.

“Y—yeah! I told you I was quite thirsty.” You chuckled, hoping that your plan wouldn’t fall apart now.

Takasugi kept quiet, his expression tensing up once more before relaxing into a curved smile. Fooling him was hard, but when it came to his beloved beverage, you could only hope his excessive defense would drop even for a bit.

“You’ll pay for this.” He said in a rather ominous tone, briefly erasing the thoughts from your mind.

“O-of course!” You nodded, returning your attention to the unfinished wrapping of his eye. Going about three more times over it, you tucked the loose ends in the back, making sure that it was secure enough. “So, you are coming?”

He sighed, rolling his eye ever so slightly. Success!

Unable to contain your excitement, you flashed a smile at him. Today would be so much fun. Even if he got mad about you disrespecting his wishes, he was bound to forgive that little scheme once he got to see the actual surprise you’d planned. Or at least, so you hoped.

Leaning closer to his face, you pressed your lips softly against his bandaged eye, earning yet another annoyed scoff from him.

I’m sorry, Shinsuke. But this is the only way.

“All set, let’s go!”

Surprisingly enough, Takasugi seemed to be in a far better mood when you met up on the docks. Once you’d finished fixing his bandages, he went back to his own room, giving you time to change into something nicer. After all, you wanted to look pretty on his birthday. A light blue kimono decorated by cherry blossoms was your outfit of choice, paired with a silky pink obi. Your hair was shaped in a slightly excessive updo style, kept together by a dark blue hairpin.

On second thought, maybe this was too much for a walk in the city, a fact that he also took notice in.

“You look…” He furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly searching for the right words.

“Weird? Is it too much? Should I get changed?”

“No. Just…” He walked closer, leaning as close to your face as his hat would allow. “Pretty.”

You had to suppress the urge to attach yourself onto his arm, with your entire face lighting up at his comment. Maybe if you were alone, he wouldn’t mind, but in front of all his comrades, he still had to keep appearances up. It’s fine, you’d have enough time to show your affection for him later on. For now, moving things according to the plan matters more.

On the way to the city, the two of you walked side by side, the conversation unsurprisingly falling back to the topic of work and his goals. If one thing about Takasugi remained the same in all those years, that was his tendency to throw himself into his personal aspirations, which was basically another word for ‘workaholic’. Still, you were never bothered by that. This was one of his many charms.

Things on board had been quiet for the most part, and so when he asked you if anything interesting had occurred, you didn’t have much to say. Truth was, you spent more time inside the ship than he did. While Takasugi was busy going from spaceship to spaceship, personally handling the meetings with the Harusame, you stayed back, the main focus of your job being babysitting the new recruits.

Still, it wasn’t as if you could complain. Your communication skills rather outmatched your battle prowess. If anything, you’d be dead weight on the battlefield. Besides, the majority of the time, there was always a funny story to be shared with him.

This week’s story involved one of the newest members of the Kiheitai, the son of a farmer who’d joined about two months ago, eager to serve the cause even when that meant leaving the warmth of his home behind. For the most part, he seemed to adjust well enough, if one overlooked the whole Matako incident.

“What is the Matako incident?” Takasugi inquired with an already entertained expression. He was well aware of how ridiculous such stories could get.

The infamous Matako incident was a series of events that followed Takasugi’s latest trip to one of those planets with over ten syllables in their names. While he was gone, there was a small gathering to celebrate one of your most recent alliances with another mercenary tribe. As expected, everyone was in a joyful mood, drinking perhaps more than they could handle.

One of those people was the new recruit, who’d drunk until he could barely stand on two feet, slurring and bumping his way closer to your table. At first, you thought he needed something, but when he dropped onto his knees before Matako, you knew what was up. A love confession followed, with the man struggling to express his sincere feelings. At the end, all he managed to do was throw up all over her skirt, resulting in the blonde firing bullets at his feet until he dropped into the sea.

Takasugi snickered out loud, his right eye falling shut while he laughed.

“The poor guy was bedridden for an entire week after that.” You chimed in with a chuckle of your own. “Matako refuses to apologize and he hasn’t even looked her way since. What a tragedy.”

“I told you not to let fools aboard.”

“He is not half bad with a sword. Plus, I do understand where he’s coming from.”

“Fools tend to relate to one another.” Takasugi sneered, earning a playful nudge to his shoulder.

“That’s not it!” You protested. “It reminds me of how hard I tried to make you like me back then.”

“Hmm? There was no need for you to try.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I wonder…” He smirked, the tone of his voice rather suggestive.

Before you could ask further questions, Takasugi stopped walking, making you realize that you were standing right outside Edo Mart. Damn, all this mindless talking had you completely forget about your plan. If you went yakult shopping this early, then everything would fall apart.

Sliding in front of him, you extended both hands and legs in a dramatic manner to block his entrance. Perplexed, Takasugi tried to move past you, yet you stood in the way again. His confusion progressively shifted to annoyance, and you knew you had to say something, or else things would take a turn for the worse.

Bringing your arms to your stomach, you put your best strained expression on, making it seem as if you were in severe pain.

“Can’t we get something to eat first? My stomach is killing me.” You protested, keeping up the tormented grimace.

“I’ll let you have one of the yakult.” He argued, attempting to push past, when you clung onto him with both hands, pressing your face against his chest as if you were about to faint.

“It’ll be too late by then… please, let us get some food now.” You pleaded with teary eyes.

With a sigh, Takasugi pulled you back on both feet, briefly glancing around him. Except for a few exiting customers, no one seemed to notice the dramatic scene unfolding right in front of their eyes. The last thing you wanted was for people to realize that the two of you were wanted terrorists with a large bounty placed over your heads. But then again, who would assume that terrorists went yakult shopping in broad daylight?

Indulging your whims, Takasugi stepped away from the door, letting you lead him to wherever it was you wanted to go. One would assume that your destination would be some sort of food selling vendor or restaurant. So when the two of you came to stand outside a pastry shop, naturally, he failed to hide his own surprise.

“You need cake to quench your hunger?”

At this point, making stuff up was becoming second nature. Surely it was getting ridiculous, but what else could you do?

“Well… I heard cake is a good counter to nausea.” Plus, a birthday celebration with no cake just doesn’t feel right.

“I told you to quit exchanging letters with that idiot.” At the mention of your childhood friend, Takasugi clenched his jaw, despite him being the one to bring him up.

“It’s not that, it’s just that I… damn, I feel nauseous again.” You feigned dizziness, with your hand covering your mouth.

Following your gesture, Takasugi seemed to be taking your theatrics more seriously. Inspecting you from head to toe, you felt his stare pierce right through you, an expression of visible dread overtaking his features.

“Y/N. Don’t tell me you…” He insinuated with a hushed voice.

“What?” It was then that you realized how he’d been fixated on your belly all along.

“What?! Of course not, that’s not it!” You assured him, frantically waving your hands up and down as if to erase his suspicions. “I just can’t remember the last time I had cake and well I… uh…” Even now, he didn’t seem fully convinced that an unplanned pregnancy wasn’t behind today’s shenanigans.

“Be right back!” You yelled, throwing yourself into the store as fast as possible.

Just how much worse could things get already?

Not long after, you came out of the door with a sole piece of strawberry shortcake in hand. Had you opted for more than that, he’d most definitely grow suspicious, if he weren’t already, that was.

Though reluctant at first, Takasugi agreed to take a seat for as long as you ate your dessert, settling down at a table by the door. For a guy that was hunted down by the entire police force of Edo, he seemed overly relaxed, with his head hanging back and his legs stretched underneath the table. Perhaps all those recent diplomatic meetings had finally taken their toll.

“Feeling any better?” He asked, peering at you through his half-shut eye.

“Mhm, much better!” You grinned, pushing yet another spoonful past your lips. “Want some?”

He was about to say something regarding sugar rush and idiotic samurais, when you stuffed his mouth with cake. Your gesture most definitely caught him off guard, a muffled grunt evading him as he stubbornly pursed his lips around the spoon. In the end, he was left with no other choice but to swallow.

“How is it?” You asked as he took the spoon off your hands.

“Edible.”

You chuckled, pushing the cake towards the center of the table. No matter his lackluster comment, it was obvious that the dessert was to his liking, with his spoon stealing bites off the plate every now and then. Your first objective was completed.

“So, what was it that you liked about me?” You dropped your spoon, leaving the remaining bits for him to dig in. “You said I didn’t need to put in any effort.”

“I figured that if I left you behind, you’d probably die on your own.” Takasugi shrugged, a smirk appearing on his lips the moment he picked up on your pouty expression. “That and because… you prove to me there are still things to be preserved.”

“I do?”

“You still don’t get it? This planet is a home for idiots. At least one should remain to upkeep traditions. A pure-hearted idiot like you would do just fine.”

You weren’t sure if he meant to compliment or insult you. Knowing him, the one went hand in hand with the other.

“You really look down on me.”

“Do I?” He teased, licking the cream off his spoon. “Don’t worry. At the end of the world, I’d feel much more confident caving in the arms of said idiot.”

Once Takasugi finished his cake, the two of you hit the road, resuming your original yakult replenishment quest. Or at least, that’s what he thought. The day was far from over and so were your plans.

After a while of strolling through the streets of Edo, the wonderful scent of lavender led you to a local flower shop. Admittedly, this wasn’t part of your schedule, but when you came to remember those sorry daisies from back then, you figured that a bouquet would add a nice little touch.

“Shinsuke?”

His ears perked up at the sound of his name.

“Can we stop for some flowers? I want my room to be a bit more lively.”

Rather than giving you an answer, he gestured towards the door. You had to admit, he was far more agreeable than you’d expect him to be.

Considering the impulsive nature of your purchase and the large variety the store provided, making a choice was rather difficult. Roses smelled divine, but they were too much of a cliché. Spider lilies were beautiful, yet a symbol of death. Clenching your fingers around your purse, you found yourself unable to make up your mind, despite the florist being eager to assist.

Just as you were about to go for one of the more ordinary assortments, a bouquet reminiscent of the one you once gave him caught your attention. Perhaps revisiting the past wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Back then you had been too eager for the both of you to forget, yet now you couldn’t help but wonder whether he remembered or not.

“Daisies…” He smirked, picking at one of the petals with his thumb and index. “Aren’t you a bit too old to be plucking flowers?”

Holding the bouquet out of his reach, you scoffed right in his face.

“I don’t need to do that to be certain of your affections.”

A muffled chuckle followed your words. Despite neither of you willingly admitting to it, bickering with one another like this had always been a welcome break from the harsh reality. Such were some of the memories you treasured the most.

“What’s next?” Takasugi asked, seemingly having given up on the idea of yakult shopping.

You looked at the sky; the sun beamed at its peak. There was still time for you to pick his actual gift up, though perhaps it’d be better to get it sooner than later.

With a smile, you took a step forward, pouring back into the streets side by side.

Noticeably, the pace of your steps had slowed down, with Takasugi stealing glances at the windows of the shops. He didn’t seem particularly interested in making a purchase, though he did end up buying some tobacco for his kiseru. Shopping with him like that made it seem as if things were back to what they used to be, with the two of you looking like an ordinary every-day couple.

At times, you did muse over what it’d be like to lead a normal life with him. Had the outcome of the war been different, would things also be different between you? Would he end up making an honest living without having to look over his shoulder? Would you be leading the kind of life your family hoped for? Would the five of you gather up and share drinks like you once did?

Though such a life was enticing, it was far from reality. No matter how many chances you were given at a normal life, you’d always choose life on the run as long as that meant you got to run with him.

After a while of browsing the stores, you reached the entrance of a workshop, one that belonged to an acclaimed artisan. Naturally, figuring out a suitable present for Takasugi involved hours upon hours of you bending and twisting your brain around his personality and interests. Unlike back then, he wasn’t just a mere friend to you anymore. He was the man you shared your life with; your gift had to reflect as much, and that was how you came to pick said artisan for the job.

“I placed an order a while back. Mind if I grab it real quick?”

He shook his head dismissively, settling against the wall.

Your entrance was followed by the high-pitched ring of the doorbell, its sound notifying the owner. He was a man in his late 50’s, with a prominent jaw and a receding hairline of gray color being among his more striking features. Upon seeing you, his marble-like eyes lit up in recognition, a most welcoming expression carved into his face.

Luckily, he cut straight to the chase, ushering you to follow him to the back where he kept his creations. Though small, his desk overflowed with all sorts of items, from time-worn clocks and antiques, to complex jewelry and sword handles. That was one of Edo’s most versatile artists for you.

The man went through the piles of objects until he fished out a shimmering handguard. You took a step closer to inspect it, the gold color twinkling within your orbs. It looked exactly as you’d pictured it, if not better. The wings of the butterfly were perfectly engraved, identical to the ones his yukata sported. It was perfect, it really was.

Satisfied with the results, you thanked the man, slipping the money across the busied counter before making your way outside.

“I wasn’t late, was I?” You asked Takasugi, smiling at the sight of him.

Perhaps you were more excited about this than he’d be, though you could only hope the gift appealed to his tastes.

He turned to face you, with his arm lazily hanging out of his yukata. Approaching him, you quickly shoved the handguard inside your obi, concealing it from him. This was not the time nor place for him to receive his present.

“Only about a hundred years too late.” He scoffed, pulling away from the wall.

“My deepest apologies, supreme governor general-sama!” You clasped your hands together.

Irked by your comment, he was about to scold you over the excessive use of formalities, when a third voice chimed in, catching you both off guard.

“Takasugi! You won’t be getting away this time!” A young man with chestnut colored hair roared, aiming at you with a bazooka from within a car. The Shinsengumi!

Before you could react on your own, your hand was clenched in Takasugi’s as the two of you ran through the streets. A shot followed, the cries of the passersby echoing in your stead.

There was no time for you to look back, with the man quite literally dragging you into a maze of back alleys. The passage was too narrow for the police vehicles to pass, yet you both knew how they’d stop at nothing to get to him.

For a second, you were tempted to shake him off, aware that he had a better chance running on his own. It was because of you that he’d gotten himself involved in this mess. You shouldn’t have been so naïve as to think that such a leisurely time in the city was still an option, yet not for one moment did he let go of you. Even if your body gave out, he’d keep the two of you moving no matter the cost. That’s just who he was.

After entering what seemed to be the millionth alleyway, you spotted what appeared to be the beginning of a forest, a series of pine trees popping behind the final rooftops. Normally you’d hate to ruin your newly bought kimono with mud and twigs, but you were left with no choice. It was hide or fight and, admittedly, you stood no chance like this.

Takasugi was the first one to go, creating a path for you with his bare hand. Using a sword would be easier, though that'd leave an obvious trail for your pursuers to follow. It had been so long since you had heard a siren or a gunshot, but it was still too soon to rest assured. You had to keep going, and so you did, until the trees thinned out to an open field.

Surprisingly enough, you’d ended up standing right above the city, having a perfect view of the streets you previously roamed, as well as the docks. Somehow after all that running, you’d come closer to your starting point than before.

While you were busy inspecting the area below, Takasugi let go of your hand, his back disappearing past the rows of trees as he attempted to survey around.

What a disaster, you thought to yourself, wincing at your own stupidity. Had you gone to Edo Mart as planned; had you purchased the gift in advance, you wouldn’t be finding yourself in such a mess.

It was pure luck that your kimono suffered no heavy damage, other a couple of attached leaves, that was. At least you both survived, and so did the-

Where is the gift?

Throwing your hands all over your body, you patted down at the fabric, attempting to locate the handguard. You definitely remembered placing it inside your obi right before the chase ensued, but it was there no more. Not just that; somewhere along the line, your fingers let go of the bouquet. This really was an all-for-nothing disaster.

“Looking for this?” Takasugi asked, holding an object right above his head.

The handguard!

“You know, had I known of your scheming skills in prior, I’d have you replace Takechi.” He semi—jokingly said as he slowly made his way towards you.

“Next time you try to deceive someone, better make sure your lies check out. I can’t believe you don’t even know how many refrigerators we have on board.”

It seemed like even before the two of you set out on your little adventure, he knew all along. He knew, yet he’d willingly followed through on your plan as if he didn’t.

Sighing, you brought your hands to your face, brushing them over your eyes.

“I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t think it would end like this, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“It’s fine. Let those filthy dogs chase after their own tails.”

“They lost us?” You asked, receiving a nod as a reply.

The safety of you two mattered more than a stupid birthday present, though that didn’t prevent him from triumphantly waving it in front of your face.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smirk trembling upon his lips.

“I was curious to see how far you’d go. Besides, leaving you unsupervised would lead to you doing more stupid things, wouldn’t it?”

“Well…” There was not much to be said, considering you were responsible for the outcome. “I suppose you are right.” Your voice was so meek, with your eyes looking at him like a puppy in the rain.

“All I wanted was to surprise you, but I couldn’t even manage to do something as simple.”

“You surprised me plenty.” He argued back, his gaze falling back at the handguard.

“I had this one made for you. I know that after everything, celebrating birthdays must be about the last thing on your mind, but…” You coughed, clearing your throat. “But you can’t prevent me from celebrating the birthday of the man I love. Such a day is precious to me, just like each and every day we get to spend together. I am grateful for all those days, I am grateful that you were born and I am grateful that I got to meet you.

“Shinsuke, you aren’t a samurai who only destroys. So far, you’ve been able to protect me through everything with that sword of yours, putting your soul on the line more times that I can count. This isn’t much, but hopefully it’s enough to protect you too.”

Your speech left him speechless, as he sheepishly stared into your eyes. No malice, no gratitude, no nothing.

“But uh, there is no need for you to use it if you don’t like it! You’ve been going without one for years, so perhaps you find no use for it and I could always return-”

In a rapid movement Takasugi unsheathed his sword, cutting through the air and your words in half.

“Has no one told you that asking for a gift back is rude?” He scoffed, installing the handguard at the base of the sword. Thankfully, it seemed to be a perfect fit.

Once he was done looking at it, making sure that it wouldn’t fall out, he attached his sword back to his hip.

“So you like it?”

Flashing a smile at you, Takasugi moved closer until no distance remained between you. With his hand reaching forward, he cupped your cheek ever so softly, a callused thumb rubbing at your skin as he gazed into your eyes. Somehow you’d forgotten all about your question, falling victim to his charms all over again like you always did.

“I love it.” He breathed his answer right before he claimed your lips with his.

You closed your eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his mouth and the certainty of his touch. It didn’t matter how long you’d been running or how far the Shinsengumi had chased you. This moment right here made it worth the trouble. He was worth the trouble.

“Happy Birthday.” You whispered on top of his lips, feeling them stretch into yet another smile.

Even when he pulled away from the kiss, he didn’t pull away from you. His hand kept holding you in place, while the rough edge of his hat bumped against your forehead.

“Next time you are definitely paying for this.”

The rest of the afternoon went by in relative peace. Somehow you were able to avoid any further run-ins with the Shinsengumi, the sole sign of a police vehicle being the distant echo of a faraway siren. Even so, Takasugi seemed to be on the edge, with his fingers itching to grab the hilt of his sword at the slightest of sounds. Considering everything that went down, you could hardly blame him. Besides, you were too preoccupied fawning over his sword’s new appearance, feeling all giddy that he got to carry a part of you everywhere he went.

After a while of trailing through the city, the two of you managed to reach the docks. Your feet were borderline killing you, making you wish that Takasugi offered you a ride on his back like he did when you were children. Of course you never dared to ask such a thing, especially when he’d spent more than half the day glaring at you. This was far from the ideal birthday you’d planned in your brain. You hated to admit it, but there was still so much for you to learn in terms of scheming.

By the time you set foot on the ship, the sun was fully submerged into the waters below, leaving nothing but a lovely shade of saturated orange behind. Though you didn’t mind traveling through space, sunsets in Edo were a sight you would never forsake. There was no place like home.

“Ahh, what a fun day!” You exclaimed, stretching both arms above your head.

Takasugi closed the door behind you, undoing the strings of his hat.

“Fun… well, that’s a way to put it.”

You watched as he leaned against the dresser, setting his hat and sword aside.

“Come on! The weather was nice, the cake was nice, the flowers were nice, the gift was nice”

You pointed at each of your fingers as if you meant to count through every positive happening of the day, only hesitating when you reached your pinky.

“You were nice.”

He tilted his head, his lips curling into a crooked smile.

“Suggesting that I normally aren’t?”

To count all the times he glared, threatened or even killed someone these past few days, you were in need of at least three sets of extra arms. Despite that, you knew better than to consider Takasugi the evil bastard terrorist that the Bakufu and the rest of his enemies made him out to be. To count all the times he’d smiled at you, all the times he’d saved you, all those times when you’d felt as if your entire world had collapsed only to find yourself in his arms; to properly count those times, you’d need more fingers than the entire Kiheitai had to offer.

“Hmm… You have your moments."

He seemed satisfied enough with your answer, his expression softening up as the two of you shared a look. Words meant nothing when your eyes spoke for themselves, one’s image etched into the eyes of the other, adorned by sheer adoration that neither of you bothered to hide. Behind closed doors, there was no reason to.

“I’d better go get some rest.” You mumbled, a forced yawn breaking through the tension.

It wasn’t that you felt particularly sleepy, but after spending the entire day with him, he was bound to have at least a few unfinished tasks to tend to. A day of mindless fun was not enough to switch his work habits.

You were about to return to your own room when, all of a sudden, the door fell shut before you, a palm preventing it from opening.

“Oi, oi. Where do you think you are going? " Takasugi taunted with a sultry voice.

“My room?” You peered over your shoulder, a curtain of dark purple blocking your vision.

“I thought you wanted to celebrate my birthday. Go on, celebrate it. Day’s not over yet.”

The way he looked at you was enough for you to understand what “celebrating his birthday” implied. Such an amorous look was only preserved for you, with his green hue undressing a little less than your soul and a little more than your body.

Even without touching you, the attraction between your bodies was palpable, drawing the two of you closer together. His hands that constantly ached for a fight were now aching to hold you, and who were you to deny him?

The moment you turned around, you caught sight of a victorious grin, both of you aware of what was to follow. You rolled your eyes playfully, unable to hide your own smile as your hand reached forward. Grabbing a fistful of fabric, you pulled Takasugi down to you, until his body met yours and your lips met his. He sighed softly, his fingers dropping from the door around your waist, capturing you in a tight embrace free of any reservation.

You surrendered yourself to his touch, letting go of his yukata’s collar while his grip only tightened, pinning both your bodies against the door. Unlike the unbearable summer heat, his warmth was more than welcoming, enveloping your entire body down to your hips and thighs. You felt feverish, throwing your arms over his shoulders for him to take over.

Takasugi drew your bottom lip between his teeth, languidly lapping his wet tongue over it before sliding it into your mouth. You tilted your head to the side, a soft hum dissolving at the tip of your tongue as you explored each other's mouth anew. Even when you had memorized his taste, you couldn’t help yourself but seek more of it, completely in love with everything his body had to offer you.

The lack of air had your head spinning around, your only source of oxygen being that of his lungs; the only one you ever needed. With his hips pressing your waist down, he made a mess out of your thighs, your slick entrance drooling for him to fill you up in every way imaginable. Perhaps offering yourself to him as a gift would have been a far better choice than all this running around, you decided, gently bucking your hips forward.

Regrettably, Takasugi was the first to pull away, his sharp breath tickling your nose and lips. Through half-lidded eyes, you took in each other’s image, lust clouding both your features while you drew air from one another, avoiding to close the distance just yet.

His hands reached lower onto your body, possessing your every bit, with your own hand dropping down to his chest. You felt how frantically his heart beat for you, just for you. Time and time again you came to realize that this heart, this body, this man… they all belonged to you. Even if the two of you came to lose everything, you’d still be each other’s most prized possessions, a fact that not even revenge could forsake.

“What are you smirking for?” He asked with a smirk of his own.

Shaking your head, you guided him into another kiss, quick to wipe that cocky expression off his face. Whether you confronted him or not, he’d never admit to being wrapped around your finger, though there was no need to. The way his body reacted to your own spoke volumes, with his mouth granting you access once more and his hips utterly attuned to yours.

In no time, his hands were tugging at your obi, each string of your kimono coming undone between his fingers. You felt the fabric loosen up around your curves, the expensive silk curling into a ball across the tatami.

Left in nothing but your undergarment, you were exposed to his touch, fire spreading through every part his fingers came to brush. You leaned forward until your lips found his neck, smearing open-mouthed kisses all over. He was always the one to mark you with his mouth, acting as if he wanted the whole world to know you were his and only his. It was about time you returned that favor.

Parting your lips, you pursed them at the base of his neck, sucking at his skin until his pale complexion turned into a bright shade of red. Perhaps he’d have a hard time covering that one up, a fact that filled you with unprecedented pride. No future scolding or frowning could take that away from you, though at the moment, he seemed too preoccupied to even care, attempting to fill his hands with as much of you as he possibly could.

Satisfied with the result, you puckered your lips up, peppering gentle kisses down his collar bone, while you held onto his shoulders for support. You couldn’t help but notice how he felt stiffer than usual, your fingertips bumping across the various knots that his muscles formed. Your previous assumptions seemed to be correct, all those exhausting work meetings had taken their toll on his health at last, leaving him nearly drained.

You pulled away from him, catching your own reflection in his eye. Even when the things you were doing were far from innocent, there was a certain purity in his gaze, as for once, the thing his right eye saw had nothing to do with torment, turmoil, or vengeance; tranquil passion having cleansed all that.

Slowly, you brought your other hand to his cheek, watching as he pressed a feather-light kiss in the center of your palm. Your heart skipped a beat, seemingly forgetting all about the words you wanted to share with him. Fucking hell, he had no business looking this lovable, you pondered.

“Let me take care of you.” You requested, brushing a couple of disheveled purple strands off his eye.

Though skeptical at first, Takasugi came to agree, leading you both towards his futon. In a theatrical move, he lifted both hands, prompting you to strip him off his clothes. Snaking your arms around his torso, you took advantage of the position, placing your head on top of his shoulder while your hands worked on undoing his obi. The blue fabric dropped onto the floor, with his purple yukata following soon after.

For a second, you caught yourself gawking at his bare body, your eyes trailing the entirety of him up and down. Thin white lines sprawled across his near flawless complexion, remnants of past conflicts and nearly forgotten treacheries. His body that was hardened by battle and shaped by hardship, remained the most beautiful thing your eyes encountered, a spectacle only second to the sublime features of his face.

Even after all these years, you found it hard to believe that someone had the power of making you feel as if you were experiencing them for the first time all over again, yet Takasugi managed to do just that.

Before he had the chance to reprimand you over your excessive stalling, you brought both hands against his chest, pushing him down onto the covers with great force. At once, his green orb narrowed into a perfect slit, sheer fury taking over his expression. You fought the urge to laugh, ultimately failing to suppress a high pitched giggle that sneaked past your lips.

For most, receiving such a menacing glare from the leader of the Kiheitai meant certain death, yet to you, it only made your heart flutter within your chest. How could you feel any dread when he looked just like that stubborn kid you’d countless of times sparred with in the past?

All funny thoughts dissolved the moment his hand found yours, forcing you to violently crash on top of him. Even then, you couldn’t quite stop laughing at his frown, only pausing to press a hasty kiss atop his crinkled nose. I love you so much, Takasugi Shinsuke. So damn much.

Ignoring his silent protest, you lowered yourself down his thighs, making sure your hands could still reach his upper body. In reality, you’d never attempted to give him, or anyone else for that matter, a massage, though when you came to see how tense he was, you couldn’t possibly turn a blind eye. You wished to bring him some relief, just as he had so many times done for you.

Taking a deep breath, you placed both palms flat over his chest, slowly dragging them up and down his shoulders. You started by applying pressure to your wrists, rolling them hard against his stiffened muscles.

Takasugi began to relax, his scoffing giving way to a contented expression. As promised, he refrained from touching you, with his emerald orb slowly disappearing behind his eyelid. You kept on kneading his hardened skin, gathering all strength on your fingertips as you rubbed him thoroughly, glancing up lest you hurt him.

With each stroke, he appeared more delighted than before, his low breathing producing a sort of melodic sound. You were pleased to see him enjoy himself, though maintaining your movements was quite tiresome for your inexperienced hands. Still, you tried your best to switch both the pace and the pressure up, overextending your little massage session as much as possible for his sake.

Distracted by your technique, you failed to notice how you’d been grinding against his crotch all along. Each time you pushed against him, your hips would follow, pressing down against his over and over again, until a hoarse moan disrupted his once steady breathing.

You froze in place, your eyes quick to spot the red shadow that bloomed across his cheeks. Perhaps the massage was far from being the only reason behind his delight, you realized once you glanced at the solid tent between your thighs.

“Looks like your shoulders aren’t the only stiff thing about you.” You teased, softly palming his clothed erection.

“Go on, then. Take care of that too.” Takasugi cooed, his hands softly brushing over your knees as he compelled you to keep going.

Your fingers worked on undoing the knots of his fundoshi, at last setting him free. His cock sprung between your palms, already at its full length. Slowly, you traced over a vein, your fingers closing in once you reached the head. His reddened tip was already glistening with precum for you, eagerly awaiting to disappear within one of your needy holes.

Drawing your thumb over it, you spread his thick essence all over, inducing a muffled sigh to fall out of Takasugi's lips. You loved how sensitive he was to your touch. Even when getting him to this state wasn't your intention, you couldn't help but smile knowing how hard you'd gotten him.

Bringing a second hand down his length, you clenched your fingers into a pair of fists, firmly pumping him up and down. His size made it hard for your palms to cover all of him, but your gestures compensated plenty for that. Your right hand remained below his head; four fingers lightly twisting around him, with your thumb repeatedly brushing over his tip. At the same time, your left hand came to cup his balls, another moan failing to remain within his lips.

Though Takasugi had never been particularly vocal as a lover, when you were stimulating him like that, it was impossible for him to keep to himself.

“Hm, this doesn’t seem to be working.” You noted once you heard him curse out loud. “If anything, you are stiffer than before… Should I try something different?” You asked, your hands stopping only for a moment.

Despite his eye being shut for the majority of your playtime, he was now watching your every move with bated breath. Slowly, you let go of his cock, bringing your hands between your thighs to pick your undergarment off the way. He wanted you to expose yourself so badly, yet for now he was content with merely glancing at the hardened peaks your nipples formed below the creamy linen.

You lined your hips with his own before finally, sinking down onto him, his entire cock sheathing deep within your gummy walls. His grunt was overshadowed by your moan, the sensation of being whole enough to make you shudder. He was stretching you so good while all you could do was gush over him, your womb aching to be filled to the brim with his seed.

It was his turn to smirk, your reaction bringing him great amusement. Normally he'd be the one to push you down, pleasuring the both of you until your lips could barely shape his name, but for the time, he remained perfectly still. He loved to see you struggle, knowing that even when you'd been together since you were teens, you were still overwhelmed by him.

“Something wrong?” He asked in a condescending tone, conveniently forgetting all about how a moment ago he was the one to lose himself in your hands.

“N-nothing at all.” You stuttered as you attempted to regain your composure. If you gave him the chance, he’d overthrow you without thinking twice.

Dropping your palms back onto his chest, you raised your hips, figuring that it’d be easier for you to keep going with just the tip inside. At a slow pace, you rocked your body against him, sensually drawing circles with your hips all the while maintaining eye contact. His smirk persisted, the only sign to betray his true feelings being that of his fingers as they clenched around the covers below.

“Something wrong?” You taunted in the same tone he used, taking full advantage of his vulnerability.

Takasugi let go of the sheets, bringing both hands around your hips.

“Nothing at all.” He answered with greater confidence.

Even with his fingers gripping you, he didn’t do as much as to guide you in any way. He merely held you in place, patiently awaiting for you to pick your pace back up. Besides, your little mind games brought him plenty entertainment already.

At a much slower pace than before, you repeated the same movements, fully aware of the fact that his patience was gradually wearing thin. You weren’t even sure whether you actually meant to take care of him or test your limits anymore, seemingly achieving both. Either way, you could tell you weren’t the only one having fun with this.

Biting down your lip, you lowered your hips, allowing a little more than half of him to sink into you. It took every bit of self-restraint not to go all the way, your own juices making it easier for him to get sucked deeper into your pussy.

Reaching a hand behind your back, you found the base of his shaft with your fingers, keeping it steady enough for you to lightly bounce onto it. Takasugi pressed his lips together in a straight line, with his fingertips applying slightly more pressure than before. He didn’t cave in just yet, though when your fingers traced over his balls, he couldn’t help but dig his fingertips right into your skin, a bruising sure to follow.

Motivated by his reaction, you tried to sync the movement of your fingers to the movement of your hips, bouncing faster when inevitably, his cock slipped outside your lips. You looked down, hesitating to drive him back in.

Shamelessly, you brought the tip to your slit, wetting it enough for you to glide it over your throbbing clit. A delirious whine evaded your lips, the delicious feeling clouding your mind as you frantically tapped the two together. Even when tonight was all about him, there was no way for you to help yourself, not when it felt so damn good.

Having had enough for the moment, you were about to go back to riding him, when Takasugi rammed his dick so hard into you, that you had no choice but to collapse against his chest, your cry making him chuckle.

“That’s unfair!” You pouted, attempting to lift yourself back up.

“Unfair?” He whispered. “Unfair was having to go all day long without doing this.”

Before you could ask what ‘this’ meant, you felt his hands crawl down your butt, forcing your bodies to grind against each other.

“Why would I need another gift when I can have you, hm?”

The newfound bliss caused your vision to go blurry, the thoughts in your brain replaced by the sole sensation of his cock twitching deep within your heat. Had he asked you earlier, then maybe you’d have an answer to his question, but right now all you could do was bite down at your lip, while he hit all the right spots.

To your surprise, he appeared in no hurry to chase after his much awaited high, merely enjoying the warmth you offered him. Placing two fingers below your chin, he compelled you to look at him, a loving smile erased by your lips. His hands pulled away from your rear, Takasugi allowing you the freedom to move around. Losing yourself in yet another kiss, you claimed his cheeks with your palms, your tongue meeting his while he snaked his arms around your waist.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes, slipping past your shut eyelids as you both moved against each other, fucking one another in sync with your kiss. Even when it felt like your heart was about to explode, you couldn’t bring yourself to move away from him, relishing every last bit of his body.

“You are more than enough.” He refused to let go, mumbling the words straight into your mouth. “You are mine.” His teeth tugged at your lower lip, before cushioning it all over again. “Mine.”

His sudden confession made your eyes widen, the sheer possessiveness of his voice sending chills down your spine. You always thought that you were the one who chased after him, though right now you were finally able to feel how tight his embrace was, a certain desperation pouring into his kisses as if he feared you’d slip away from his grasp.

“Shinsuke, I-” You began, only to be hushed by yet another kiss.

“Let me handle things from now on.” He said, completely inebriated.

With a small nod, you ushered him to take action, not caring about who got to take care of whom anymore. All you wanted was to finally become one with him.

A swift move of his was all it took to bring you down, your undergarment flying off your body. It was his turn to gawk at you, a slight smile hanging from his lips once he got to savor what you’d kept from him for so long.

The bandages over his head had come undone, their edges drenched by his own sweat. You reached to his face, pulling them out of the way when he claimed your fingers in his palm, pressing your hand down onto the futon. He had no intention of letting you lift as much as a finger.

Once more, he turned the tables on you as he rolled onto his side, pulling your back tight against his chest. With no distance left between your bodies, Takasugi snaked his arms around your waist, one hand spreading your legs open and the other cupping your breast. He kneaded at your soft skin, flicking both your nipples between his fingers, while his lips traveled to your nape, smearing your back with hot kisses.

With his fingers locking behind your knee, Takasugi steadied it around his torso, opening your body for him as much as possible. Unable to resist, you brought your hand between your thighs, gently rubbing circles over your swollen clit. Even when you hadn't had a drop of alcohol, the feeling of being utterly engulfed by him made your head spin.

Sighs evaded your lips one after the other, your fingers clenching around his bandage, while you kept on pleasuring yourself, continuously chanting his name. He was the only one who could make you feel so good, even when the fingers that touched you were yours and not his.

Once he had enough of groping you, Takasugi lowered you onto him, adjusting your position so that he could comfortably penetrate you. His cock brushed over your entrance, eager to slide past your pink lips. Nodding in confirmation, you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, breathing into the faint yet intoxicating scent of sandalwood and cedar. Despite everything, he still smelled so nice.

Taking in your blissful expression, he caressed your hair softly before finally pushing his way in. A strangled sound dropped from your lips as you bit down onto his skin, unable to contain yourself.

“Relax” He muttered in a mellow tone as he thrusted again, earning himself another of your pretty whines.

Each moan of yours sounded like the finest of melodies to his ears, knowing that each whimper was meant for him and him only. Perhaps he relished your reactions more than anything, fixating his pace according to the pitch of your voice. The louder you cried, the harder he went, ferociously rutting his hips in you as if there was no tomorrow.

His hand dropped from your knee onto your stomach, traveling down to your clit. Without disrupting his movements, Takasugi started to rub at it like you previously did, causing your entire body to jolt at the stimulation. Your moans turned into a series of desperate cries as you squirmed on top of him, unsure of whether you were trying to cling harder or to run from the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

“Look at me.”

He instructed in the same gentle voice and you followed, meekly gazing up at him as his lips took over yours. He didn’t care that all you were capable of doing was drool over his jaw, too fucked up to reciprocate the kiss. All he wanted to do was claim your sounds as his own, letting none of them go to waste, swallowing each and every one of them.

Soon, the only sound to remain in his room was that of your cunt squelching, eagerly taking the pounding he gave you. Your hands grabbed at one of his arms, holding onto him while ushering him to go faster. He grunted at the sound of your words, mercilessly keeping it up until your walls started to clamp around his cock.

His pace grew sloppy at the sensation of your cunt clenching around him. You could feel your own legs shaking, pure ecstasy spreading all the way down to your curled up toes, while he chased after his own climax. He was so focused that thin lines were formed upon his forehead, with his brows furrowed together.

"I love you"

Those three little words were all it took for Takasugi to fall out of pace. Thick ropes of his hot seed came pouring into your guts, filling your insides to the brim. His strained expression was completely relaxed when he dived forward, capturing your lips in yet another desperate kiss. Those words that he never allowed himself to say, were easily conveyed by his touch, assuring you that he was as utterly in love with you as you were with him.

Eventually, he pulled away from your mouth, though he remained attached to you in every way possible. His cock was still buried within you, loosely fucking his cum deeper into your hole, until he had no choice but to go limp. You felt his warm essence pouring down your thighs, clinging onto your skin just like he did. His arms remained wrapped around you, holding your body as close to his own as possible. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

“I’m so happy you were born.” You broke through the silence, once you’d managed to regain your voice.

A hearty laugh followed, with his lips softly pressing onto your forehead.

“Are you now?” In less than a heartbeat you nodded against him, completely certain of your feelings on the matter.

“I guess your birth was one of the less unfortunate events in this world.” He admitted, going back to his usual snarky self.

Too elated to stoop to his level, you nuzzled your head into his chest, your arms caging him within your tight embrace. The light had completely faded from the room, with only the moon attempting to illuminate the space. Mindlessly, Takasugi caressed your shoulder with his thumb, while you hummed a soft tune, one that turned out to be none other than the happy birthday song. Skipping pretty much through all the lyrics, the only words you came to intonate were “my darling commander” right before the end.

“You make it sound as if you only sleep with me for my title.” He scoffed, though not particularly bothered.

Angling your chin to face him, you spared one of your brightest smiles.

“Of course not… my darling Shinsuke.” He was quick to dismiss you by tapping your forehead with his palm, doing his best to disguise his own smile with a hasty frown.

“I never thought someone could actually be fucked silly, but you seem to have lost every bit of common sense.” He mocked, too prideful to ever accept such a term of endearment from your lips. “Now go fetch me my pipe. I need a smoke if I am to tolerate you a second longer.”

Urging you to get up, he pushed you off his arms, forcefully rolling you onto your side. The duality of a man, you murmured under your breath. One moment he could whisper the most loving things to your ears, and the other he went back to treating you as if you were his personal maid. If all those fangirls of his knew of the mistreatment you endured, they wouldn’t stand for it, yet there you were, blindly searching through the darkness for the light switch.

“You know, you were the one who went all like ‘Y/N, spend my birthday with me, I long to nest between your thighs, please surrender yourself to me’.” You nagged, purposely messing up his previous words. “Deal with the consequences.” You went on as your fingers located the switch, light pouring into the room at once.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed to have nothing to counter your childish taunts, resorting to a mere huff. That’s right, he couldn’t even dispute your claims, victory was yours.

“Where is it again?”

He lifted a finger, pointing towards his dresser. You followed, going through the drawers one by one in search of his kiseru. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen him smoke all day long. It was rare for him not to have it on him, considering how he seemed addicted to the rush the bitter tobacco had to offer.

“You know though, smoking right after sex is such a cliché. Who does-” Your sentence was cut short once you peered at the contents of the final drawers, finding more than you’d anticipated.

You blinked your eyes, wondering if you hadn’t actually left the bed, pure disbelief making you question your senses. His kiseru was right there, resting next to a small metallic box, one you could have sworn you’d seen before. Picking it up in your hands, you took a peek at the inside, your suspicions confirmed at the sight of a worn pair of binoculars. Their condition was beyond poor, though there was no doubt; these were the very same binoculars you gifted him all those years ago.

“I never expected you to keep anything from back then.” You admitted, placing the objects back inside the furniture.

“I kept you, didn’t I?” Takasugi shrugged, accepting the kiseru from your hands as he worked on lighting it up.

You stayed silent, lying next to his side. All sorts of thoughts went through your brain, while you traced back to each of your memories in an attempt to analyze his past behavior. The binoculars and the cookie box… could this mean that he returned your feelings long before he admitted to it?

“I will allow it.” His voice interrupted your thoughts, a light gray ring of smoke spiraling past his lips.

“Hm?”

“You can celebrate my birthdays.”

Your eyes widened, an expression of pure awe beaming upon your features.

“I’m only doing it for the free massage. Don’t get full of yourself.” He was quick to add.

“Then, how about we go somewhere nicer next year?” You suggest, forgetting all about his comments and your own contemplation.

Your hands traveled all the way to his neck, with your eyes pleading him for attention.

“I hear Waiiha planet is dreamy this time of the year. Or we could go over to Kagoshima for something quieter. Or-”

A cloud of thick smoke came to hush your words.

“By next year, nothing but ruin will remain.” He smirked, pulling the kiseru away from his lips. “I shall bring this rotten world before your feet.”

“Can’t you at least keep a place for the two of us?” You pouted.

Takasugi tilted his head as he took in your expression, finding himself smiling at your stubbornness.

“As long as we are both around, there will always be a place for us to run to.”

However romantic and grandiose his words came off, you failed to suppress a laughter. He always did that, using such fancy expressions to sway and misdirect you, but after all these years, you’d like to believe you knew better than to fall for it.

“You are so full of shit, Bakasugi.”

His smile twisted into a sneer, with his eye narrowing into another of his infamous glares. Using that ‘nickname’ on him, always irked him beyond compare.

“Can’t you keep Kyoto at least?”

He took another puff, blowing smoke towards the window.

“I can consider Yamagata.”

“Kanagawa?” You pleaded, pulling your entire weight on top of him.

“Don’t push it.”

“What about Hokkaido?” You weaved your fingers through his hair, slightly ruffling them. “I could make you a flower crown.”

Takasugi claimed your hands in his, dragging them down his chest before letting go of them. His expression softened, making it seem as if he didn’t completely oppose your proposition.

“Hokkaido…” He repeated, in a soft manner, one that caused little stars to spiral within your orbs. “Sounds like an enticing destination… for me to spread your ashes.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean!” You protested, throwing a punch at his chest while he giggled.

The two of you kept bickering over potential vacation destinations for quite some time, throwing names of different places until there was no planet, country, city or village left to name. Neither of you agreed to back off, with each insisting on a suggestion of their own.

Without admitting to it, secretly, you wished that by the time his next birthday came around, you’d both be around to celebrate it. Whether it was upon a hilltop or the edge of a coastline, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that you'd see the end of things with him, standing side by side like you'd done every moment up until now.

No matter what, you'd see this one wish through; no matter what you would never let go of him.