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gyuswhore · 1 year

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

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

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

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

or;

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

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

PLAYLIST: right here!

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

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

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

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

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

“Hey, it’s good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

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

“Never knew you read.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And believe you instead?”

Oh, you wish.

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

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

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

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

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

“How far are you with that one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

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

“Did you drive like this?”

“Uh, no, I walked.”

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

“Wanted to see you.”

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

“Had to talk about the book.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.

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

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

“It’s not about that.”

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

“Easy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You hate living in peace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing here?”

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

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

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

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

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

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

You really needed a new car.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had forgotten your book.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was he uncomfortable with you?

Was he avoiding you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s next week, isn’t it?”

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

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

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”

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

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”

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

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“O-okay.”

It’s silent. Painfully so.

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

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

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

“Mingyu—“

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

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

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

He pauses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t. You can’t do it.

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

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

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

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

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

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you doing?”

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

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

“It’s not that!” you groan.

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

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

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

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

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

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

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

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

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

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

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.

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

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

“Seokmin!” you scream.

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

“No, it’s not,” you grit.

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

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

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

“I don’t want to go.”

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

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

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this.

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

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

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

“Seok told me you were here too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back.

And another

Then another.

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

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

THE BEGINNING

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

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

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

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

You needed to leave.

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

“Let’s go home.”

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

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

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

“Let me drop you off home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?”

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

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

“Nayeon’s”

“Bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise me you mean it,” you say.

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Mingyu,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

“Great?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you bring it with you?”

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

“What the fuck?” you breathe out.

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“I-”

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

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

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

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

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

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

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

“We could do that right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hope so,” you reply.

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

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

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

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

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

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

“I love you more.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.

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

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

He’s silent.

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

No response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love ya’” he giggles.

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

“And I love you.”

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thelurchinghound · 10 months

Note

ftm reader getting fucked by two monsters shoving their knots deep in his little cunt whiile hes tied up and just takes it

[Request info] - [Navigation]

Gender: FTM reader

Kinks/Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con(?), knotting, DP (double penetration), Dacryphilia, Teratophilia, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader. Hinted at werewolf monsters but I left it vague.

A/n: BRUH, I love this request, again I left the monsters up to the reader but I was thinking of my werewolf pack ocs. It took a little longer than I thought it would but it's fine. Kinda rushed at the end!

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're fine with reading my content (Don't like? Don't read and scroll.)

"There you go, baby boy."

Monroe forced his cock farther into your pussy, stretching it out even more. A groan slipped from his maw, his tongue darting out to lick at your perky nipples. A small cry leaving your lips from the intrusion in your pussy.

"Can you hurry it up?" Quinn growled out, his claws digging into your plush thigh skin. Small red lines form in the trail of them. His cock throbs with need against your thigh, a knot at the base of his cock already swelling up, and he hasn't even started fucking you yet.

"No, I'll take however long I want to savior our little guest here." Monroe quips back, glowering down at Quinn. The two beasts start bickering back and forth, all while you are unhurriedly thrust into by Monroe. They sounded like two brothers arguing over a toy. Quinn was lying under you, your back to his chest, Monroe above you, tugging at one of Quinn's pointy ears.

Each thrust was slow and gentle, a surprise for how big and burly the monster was. Monroe's giant clawed hands hold onto the ropes that had you tied up, unable to move. You could do nothing against Monroe's ministrations or when Quinn slid his hand down to your pussy. His thumb started to rub your sensitive bud while the bigger man still thrust into you. Quinn's other hand holds open your trembling thighs from his place under you, chuckling slightly when your back arches off him.

"You said that last time with the last human!"

That exclamation only got an eye-roll from Monroe, his sharp claws drilling further into the plush skin of your thighs. An annoyed grunt coming from on top of you. "God, you are insufferable. Like a yapping chihuahua that won't shut up."

After a few minutes of the two going back and forth arguing about fucking you, Monroe ultimately relents. "Fine, fine! Whatever!" He says in a rolling growl, moving to spread open your thighs for Quinn. The smaller beast positioned his cock right at your stretched entrance, though, unlike Monroe, he doesn't push in slowly. Like an excited pup, he thrusts himself in. You were already stretched from Monroe's cock, but now with both cocks inside your dripping cunt it felt like you could've been split open. Their knots pressed together as they started to thrust. At first, it was graceless, but gradually, they got a rhythm down.

Their thrust started getting harder, knots slipping in with every push in and out. The cave around them filled with grunts and moans of pleasure as the two beasts ravaged your tight cunt. Until they finally spilled inside you, their fat knots locking their cum inside.

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spider-ghoul · 2 months

Text

Babysitting <3

Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)

In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!

this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website

~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~

At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.

"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"

"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"

"Six is when we're leaving."

"I'll be there at five fifty."

"You're a savior."

This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.

I mean, he was kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.

At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.

I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.

She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.

She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.

To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.

"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"

I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.

I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.

I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.

Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing.

As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.

I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.

I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.

It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.

I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.

I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.

I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.

Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.

"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"

"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"

He laughed and my heart fluttered.

"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning.

"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."

"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess.

"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."

"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."

"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.

And i felt my face getting hot again.

"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down.

He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him.

"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."

After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.

He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth.

I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?"

"Uh.. ten-ish?"

"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him.

"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."

"It's not far-"

"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."

I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude."

"Neither me or Sally would care."

"...."

"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"

"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything.

Percy smiled, making my heart melt.

"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again.

"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow.

"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.

"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:

"Watching me sleep?"

"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.

"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly, staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.

After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me.

"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-"

"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks."

He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that.

I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body. I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him.

I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again.

I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?"

"Well I kinda assumed..?"

"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?"

Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.

"No, I don't mind.."

I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him.

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut.

I was woken when Percy broke the silence.

"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent.

"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes.

"I really like you, you know that?"

If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered.

"... I really like you too."

I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip.

"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it."

I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer.

It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't remember.

I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said.

And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment.

The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home.

We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then.

He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.

#pjo x reader #pjo fic #pjo #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader fluff #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #percy jackon and the olympians

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queerpumpkinnn · 1 year

Text

You Snooze You Lose

3.9k words

Summary: you're just about to give up on the dating scene altogether, so who better than your neighbor friend to show you how good dates usually end? can you tell this is my favorite trope

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (can be interpreted as older!Eddie)

Warnings: piercedtongue!Eddie, softdom!Eddie, mention of reader having an awkward date, alcohol (both consume but they're not drunk), Eddie refers to reader as princess/pretty and reader is afab but pronouns and clothing style is up for interpretation, Eddie picks up reader, thigh riding, choking, brief weed mention, fingering, oral sex, singular biblical reference?? (not counting someone saying 'oh god' or something of the like, kinda vague i think it'll probably go over a lot of people's heads), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling (eddie receiving), mentions of voyeurism, reader begs a lot a lot a lot, unprotected sex and creampie (this is fiction, wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, panty sniffing and stealing, scratching (eddie receiving), Eddie's mouth (however you're interpreting this the answer is yes), heaps of praise, sprinkle of dumbification, squirting, Eddie is a pleasure dom through and through, let me know if I missed anything

While reading, I recommend you listen to the altar is my hips - a Spotify playlist by me!

Your head fell back against the car, inhaling deeply and heaving a long sigh that devolved into something of a groan. Your social battery was impossibly drained.

You had just come from another pitiful excuse of a date, someone from work that a mutual friend had set you up with. It wasn't a total disaster, but it didn't leave you with butterflies either. But you were home now, so you could forget about the experience for the timebeing.

A voice calling your name pulled you from your thoughts. It was one you recognized immediately as your next door neighbor, Eddie. When your eyes located him you saw him sauntering out of his open garage towards your driveway, beer in one hand and jean pocket over the other. His chunky boots set in stone his walk, so casual and powerful, and oh god he's right in front of you now.

"You must be doing some serious thinking out here," Eddie chuckled, leaning on your car opposite you. "Either that or there's more to that tree than meets the eye because you've been staring at it for the last five minutes."

You chuckled back at him. "You've been watching me?"

"With a face like that, it'd be a crime not to."

There it was again. That little game you and Eddie played. Even from your first day in the neighborhood Eddie welcomed you with his abrasive charm and an open invitation to his services on a car. Which he seemed to exercise often- his garage door was often open during the afternoons, blasting music as he sat under his car doing god knows what. He never failed to wave and wink at you as you pulled into the driveway every day as you came home from work.

As you became more accustomed to him, your friendship evolved into frequent Friday night hangouts, sitting on the ground in the living room with a six pack talking about anything and everything.

You hated to admit it, but it didn't take long for your cheeks and ears to start to get embarrassingly red in front of Eddie, especially when your conversation topics became more, well, intimate. Whether or not he'd picked up on it, you didn't know- nothing had ever come of your little crush; you'd been content to leave that between you and your vibrator.

"Kid? Y'alright?"

There you go again. You shook your head, blinking a few times before shooting him an apologetic smile.

"Yeah, sorry."

"You seem a bit on edge. Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug. "It's nothing, really. Just got home from a date."

"Assuming it didn't go well?"

"It wasn't bad, it just- I don't know, it felt forced."

Eddie hummed, nodding lightly. "I hear ya. Tell y'what, take ten to get settled and let me clean up, then come over, we'll break out a couple of bottles and you can tell me all about it, yeah?"

"Sounds great," you agreed, and Eddie gave you a playful salute before sauntering back to his own driveway- which you may or may not have watched for a little too long.

Once you'd changed into more casual attire, you took the short walk down the street to Eddie's house. By this time, the sun was half set, and his garage had been shut, the only evidence that someone was home being the lights on in the kitchen.

"There you are. Was starting to worry," Eddie grinned at you as soon as the door swung open. You noted a flash of silver behind his teeth as his tongue swiped against his side teeth, and the tickling in your lower gut a moment later.

"Aw, you worry about me?"

“All the time, sweetheart,” the man flashed a grin, stepping aside to welcome you inside. "So, what's gotcha down?"

You heaved a groan, plopping onto his couch. "It's such a long story, I'm not even sure I have it in me to tell the whole thing. But he treated me like one of the guys. I mean, I want us to be friends too, but..." you clicked your tongue and sighed, words escaping you.

Meanwhile Eddie just watched you, arm slung over the back cushion across from you on the other side of the L of the couch. His beer bottle rested on his knee, balanced by his hand. "You wanted to be romanced."

"Yeah, I guess so. He didn't even make sure I got to my car safely."

Eddie's eyed widened, head cocking in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" When you shook your head no, he flung his hands in the air. "That's not even romantic! I do that for my friend's kids I drive around because I don't want them getting kidnapped!"

"I know, I know. That's not even the worst part."

Eddie scoffed. "What could possibly be worse?"

"Let's just say I know more about his bowel happenings than I would like to."

Eddie wrinkled his nose, sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, y'know princess, I get the feeling he's not your soulmate." He set his bottle down with a clink on the wood, running his hands up his thighs. "Man, even I could do better."

Something in your stomach turned over at the thought. Eddie seemed to notice your change in demeanor, however slight, and set his bottle down.

"Could you?"

Although it was after a few long, heavy seconds, the words escaped you faster than your brain could process them. Eddie's eyebrows twitched in something mixing amusement and bewilderment.

"I could," he mused. You swore that when he shifted his legs opened a little bit wider. "'Least your night wouldn't end complaining to a friend over a beer."

"Oh yeah? How would my night have ended?"

Eddie cocked a brow, lips curling.

You tilted your head to the side, eyeing him. Another long, heavy moment settled between you two, where you sat staring at one another.

Then your mouth moved of its own accord.

"Show me."

Slowly, so slowly, Eddie stood. sauntered over to where you sat. He watched you like a hawk, mischievous eyes captivating yours. A single, calloused hand reached out to your jaw, tilting it up a bit so that you were facing him. Eddie's mouth quirked up at the new sight.

"Y'want me to show you how your night should've ended, princess?" He crooned. You nodded dumbly, earning another chuckle. "Show you how you deserve to be treated, hm?"

Before you could give a response, Eddie's mouth was on yours, slow and deliberate and relaxed, seeming to simultaneously pull tension from your bones and set your skin on fire. Your fingers reached for his jacket, tugging him closer. Eddie gripped the couch back behind you to hold his weight, other hand coming to cup the back of your neck, slinking into your hair. His thumb rested on your pulse, smirking a little when he felt it racing.

"Pretty thing," he murmured in between hot kisses, "are you sure about this?"

"So sure, Eddie, please," you breathed, tugging his jacket off; the leather was cool to the touch, nice on your searing fingertips.

You could feel his mouth quirk up at your desperation. The hand that held the couch came down to your legs, lighting fire in their wake and finding the crook under your knee, tugging outwards. Heat brewed in your core at the implication- fueled even more so when Eddie pulled back with a grunt to tug his jacket away. Your eyes seemed to be locked in on his, somehow darker and lit with something primal. His kiss-bitten lips hung open in a lazy grin.

"C'mere, pretty." Eddie's hands grip your thighs with a searing mix of worship and need, pulling them apart and tugging you towards the end of the couch by the crooks under your knees. You let out a squeak, breaking quickly into a stifled hum of pleasure as his mouth found and made quick work of your neck, kissing and nipping and licking with that damn ball of metal down the front of your throat, hands splaying over your thighs appreciatively all the while.

"Eddie," your voice had risen into a near whine, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All thoughts were clouded with his storm- his breath fanning your jaw, warmth radiating onto your body, almost chest to chest, hands teasing dangerously high.

"Hm?"

"Please, please Eddie..." you weren't sure what you were asking for, really, you just knew you wanted more of him. However he would give himself to you you would gladly take.

"Please what? Y'know I'm all yours, honey, I'll give you everything you want and then some but I can't help you if I don't know what that is."

"More," you huffed, reaching for his wrists.

"More?" Eddie teased; the condescending lilt in his tone was overwhelmingly obvious, but in your frenzied state you only nodded limply. Your hand tugged at his, and he followed your lead as you dragged his hand towards your neck, pressing at the back of his hand to indicate what you wanted him to do.

"Oh? Princess likes choking, huh?" The excitement in Eddie's voice was hardly containable, but he managed to play it off cooler than how he really felt- like a dog who just heard dinner being poured into his bowl. "That is interesting."

Eddie's grip on your neck wasn't really that strong, but it made your head spin nonetheless, eliciting a weak, content noise from you.

"There we go, fuckin' love hearing that." Eddie gave a kiss to your cheek, his other hand occupied with sending shock waves down to your gut as his fingers walked up the back of your leg. "What else does princess want, hm?"

You only let out a whine, too engrossed with the building, unbearable heat in between your legs, which, at the sound of his nickname, twitched further open.

Lucky for you, Eddie picked up on that immediately. "Aw, sweet thing, shoulda told me." He tuts, moving both hands under you and rearranging the two of you so that your crotch was hovering over his thigh, other leg hooking onto yours so that you were spread open for him.

"Here we go honey, y'wanna use my leg, hm? Get yourself off?" His words were muffled by the skin of your shoulder.

Realistically you knew you wouldn't be able to orgasm from dry humping his thigh alone, but God you were so eager for friction you were willing to try. You whimpered an 'mhm', setting yourself down on his leg- even that small touch made you gasp. Eddie's hands reached for your ass, helping you grind down onto him, nearly knocking the breath out of you when the contact you so desperately craved turned into a wildfire of need.

"That's it, sweetheart, keep going. 'S'it feel good? Yeah?" He mimicked your whimper of response, proud grin never faltering, even as he nipped at your jaw. His hands, firm, surprisingly gentle for how rough and calloused they felt, traveled from your ass to your waist, fingertips slinking under the hem of your shirt.

"Can we take this off, princess? Want to see you, pretty please let me see you." His voice was low and sultry and had goosebumps rising on your back. You whined an 'mhm', the thought of what he was going to do when you were topless spurring you to pull it over your head yourself.

Once your chest was bared to him, Eddie's hands, trailing lightly enough to tickle, found your poor, sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing over them enough to make you jolt, gasping in surprise.

"Eddie, Eddie- fuck, more, need more, please," you cried, hand flying to his hair when his head dipped to lick over your chest. Whether it was to tug him away or keep him there, you didn't know.

"Aw, I know, you're just insatiable, aren't you?" Eddie gave you his best faux sympathetic voice, and for a minute you actually thought he might feel sorry for you, like it wasn't his plan all along to get you worked up like this.

Eddie's hands worked under your legs, pulling you closer to him before hoisting you up, stomping somewhere in the house you'd only visited a handful of times and never under this circumstance- his bedroom.

It was a dimly lit room, smelling faintly of weed, but you weren't given much time to take in the sights because Eddie plopped you down on his bed, immediately towering over you, caging you in with his arms. His curls tickled your face, then your neck when he moved there. A few sloppy kisses quickly turned heated again when his leg wedged itself between yours. You took the opportunity, however fleeting, to rut yourself against the material.

But this time Eddie gripped your hips, pinning you down. "Patience honey, I'm getting there." The glint of warning in his eyes had you nearly shaking in excitement. A glimmer inside of you wondered what he'd be like if you ignored his warnings.

Eddie slithered down, slowly, kissing his way down to your navel. You willed your hips to stay down, not to lean into his touch, but they did anyway. Your eyes fell shut, head falling back and fingers finding the pillow for something to weakly grip onto.

But a tap on your hipbone snapped them open, looking down at a pair of big brown eyes staring up at you, hovering over your cunt. Knowing what he was asking, you responded with lifting your hips, making it easy for Eddie to slip your bottoms down Your phone nearly fell out of your back pocket from the force with which he flung them, as if he detested the fabric for its audacity to cover you up.

"Good, doing so good." Eddie gave your thighs a squeeze, smiling up at you with something a little kinder, more endearing than the smirk he'd donned the whole evening. With another squeeze, his head dipped down close to your clothed cunt. You swore you could hear him inhale, but your train of thought was halted when Eddie licked a fat stripe up the front of your underwear, sending shocks to your already hypersensitive clit.

"God- fuck!" You tried to clap a hand over your mouth, but Eddie tugged it away as quickly as it came.

"Y'doin' alright, princess? You seem a little tense." Eddie's teasing lilt came from somewhere under you, you could see the grin even through closed eyes. You opened them anyways. His smile was turned into something more playful, a glimpse of the boyish humor he always charmed you with. His head leaned against your thigh like a puppy, pouting up at you with false concern.

"Wonder fuckin' why," you gritted through your teeth, throwing your head back in exasperation.

"Easy tiger," Eddie chuckled, fingers pulling your underwear down- this time you definitely heard an inhale. You heard him mutter something along the lines of "saving these for later."

Eddie's fingers were quick to find you again, thumbs brushing over the joint between your thighs and your pussy, as if he thought the action was soothing and not setting you on fire.

You let out a strangled sound. "Eddie, I swear, if you don't fucking touch me-"

"You'll what?" Eddie's brow raised. His gaze alone made any snide remark die on your tongue.

As if on cue, your phone, long forgotten on the edge of your bed, lit up with an incoming call.

"Well?" Eddie prompted. You reached for the phone, seeing the absolute last name you cared to see illuminating the screen. You gulped, a tinge of guilt seeping in.

"Ah, I think I know who it is." Eddie chuckled, forehead knocking into your thigh as he made a poor attempt to hide his thorough amusement. "Well? Y'gonna answer it?"

You paused, made a face. You didn't even want to talk to him, really.

Eddie barked out a laugh at your reaction. "Shame. He could've learned a thing or two."

You giggled, but it quickly turned into a loud moan as Eddie's tongue, followed by that damn metal ball in the middle, began teasing circles over your clit. Somehow you were both infinitely relieved and worked up even more. Your phone was long forgotten, flung a little too far as, somewhere in the back of your brain, you heard it clatter on the wooden floor. Not that you could be brought to care, not with the way Eddie's tongue felt tracing your weeping hole.

"Fuck, all this for me? Sweet thing, if I knew how good this pretty pussy was sooner." You wondered momentarily what the end of that sentence was, but with his lips around your clit you weren't too worried. Ceaseless and electric his mouth was, bringing you slowly but surely towards that high you'd been chasing fervently for an hour now.

"Eddie, Eddie, I'm gonna- fuck! So good, Eddie, I'm gonna come, pleasepleaseplease-" You could barely understand yourself speak, so lost in your cloud of pleasure. But Eddie seemed to understand perfectly, cooing sweet praises into your cunt as he shook his head back and forth.

"Gonna cum, princess? Go on, you've earned it. Been so good, so patient f'me. Good, good, let go." He pulled both of your hands towards your lower stomach, interlacing them with his.

The noises you made as you unraveled under his marvelous touch were downright pornographic, downright sinful. One might be tempted to say you'd forgotten how to blush, but the heat in your cheeks would have shot down the theory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, pulling pure electric heat from your sex as you writhed and shivered from Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

But when the pleasure subsided into jolts, Eddie didn't stop. His tongue continued tracing your clit languidly, and- oh- a new sensation at your core had you squeezing his hands.

"Eddie, ohmygod-" Quickly you realized what he was doing, one finger prodding around your entrance before sinking into your embarrassingly wet cunt, which welcomed him. Your back arched when his finger curled, a guttural sound ripping from your throat as he pushed deeper, searching for that spot, the one that would ensure a noise complaint from a few neighbors.

"Shh, you're okay, you're doing so well, hm? So well, yeah, relax- just like that." Eddie hummed, another finger joining the first and a high-pitched moan from you following shortly after.

And then he found it. That damn spot deep in your gut, and he bullied it with his fingertips over and over and over again.

"Eddie!" His name fell from your mouth like a hymn, moans almost swallowed by the pillow you tugged to cover your face when the brief thought of the neighbors made you a slight bit guilty. Your second orgasm of the night was coming at you full steam ahead, much easier to find from your oversensitivity as well as the new sensation that joined his thumb swiping over your clit.

"That's it, princess, give me another. G'na get you nice and ready, yeah?" Ready for what, you had an idea that sparked, if possible, even more delicious heat in between your legs.

You were animalistic at this point, nearly screaming for him to make you come again. You almost sobbed when his fingers pulled out from you, hands reaching weakly for him.

"Easy, easy, I know. Gonna make it worth your wait, mm? You want my cock, sweet thing?"

Your mouth salivated at the mention, and you immediately propped up onto your elbows to watch him line himself up with you.

"Please, Eddie, please," you sighed, head lolling back.

And there it was, that delicious stretch that had your mind reeling and fingernails digging into Eddie's inked shoulders.

"Oh, oh oh, so good, so good, Eddie, right there!"

Your hands were grabbing for every bit of him you could find. Tugging his hair, scratching down his back, pulling his neck down into a searing, heavy-breath kiss.

"Fuck, princess, keep clenching and I won't last." Eddie grunted into your mouth. His hand, previously pressing onto your lower stomach, pulled your legs so that your ankles rested over his shoulders, bending down a little so that he could move deeper, and did it have you seeing stars.

"Keep- ah- keep going, please, 'm gonna cum, gonna- Eddie!"

Your cunt convulsed around Eddie's cock, throbbing inside of you as you felt white-hot release wash over you. You sobbed into Eddie's pillow, chanting his name as he overwhelmed you with praise. Eddie fucked you through it as best he could, but you could feel he was slowing down, spurts of wet heat in your gut moments later.

"Oh, baby... didn't know you could do that." Eddie was grinning like an idiot, incredulous grin staring down at his thighs. Dizzy, you looked down where he was staring like he just won the lottery.

His thighs were splattered with what you could only guess was your own arousal, even a few drops on his stomach.

"Oh my god," you flopped your head back, hand covering your eyes and trying to cover your embarrassed smile.

"Hey, that was hot." Eddie pulled your hand away, giving you that same sweet smile, squeezing your thigh before pulling himself out. You winced at the feeling, guilt following as you realized his sheets were definitely soiled.

You let out a long exhale, mind still racing. Eddie, having tucked himself into a new pair of pants, watched you. When he concludes you've had a moment to sit and think, he strokes your arm.

"Hey, cutie. You alright there?"

"Uh huh."

Eddie chuckled at the stupid smile you're sure you wore. "C'mon, gotta get you cleaned up."

"Yeah- sorry about your sheets."

Eddie pursed his lips, shrugged. "It was worth it, don't you think?" You attempted to stand, but Eddie held up a hand. "Allow me."

Eddie carried you into his bathroom, seating you carefully onto the toilet before excusing himself. He came back a moment later with your phone, wet wipes, and a glass of water.

You and Eddie fell into more casual conversation- the latter participant heavy on the cocky jokes- it was comforting. He'd offered you to stay the night; not like you hadn't conked out on his couch before anyways.

Brushing your teeth with your finger, you tapped your phone to check the time- and almost knocked it from the sink.

"FUCK." You nearly sprayed toothpaste foam all over Eddie's mirror, holding the phone inches from your face in case your vision had somehow failed you the first time.

"What, what what??" Eddie shouted from the shower, a bottle clattering on the tile shortly after.

You spat your foam out, coughing. You pulled the curtain open enough to push your phone into the shower to show him the time and name of your most recent call.

A pfft noise followed by loud cackling echoed off the tiles. "Oh shit! Y'think he got a show too, sure it wasn't FaceTime?"

Meanwhile you sunk your head into your hands in utter mortification.

Although a tiny part of you was laughing too.

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie stranger things

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ohimsummer · 3 months

Text

A GOD’S HEIR

— minors dni, cult leader! suguru, non-sorcerer! + f! reader, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, light blood mentions, some manipulation, prob some form of blasphemy (suguru kinda has a god complex), kind of proofread? :D

deafening silence. despite the room being completely full of people, not a single word from them is dare uttered. it’s an act of respect to the downright vulgar display taking place on stage.

loud, obscene moans seep from your lips and echo off the walls to grace his followers’ ears. the brutal sound of smacks, derived from slick and sweaty skin as the feral slams of his pelvis meet your ass. a stream of tears muddles your vision. all you can make out is the vague forms of your leader’s bowed followers before him.

geto was such a nice soul, kind and caring enough to put down a mat so your poor face wouldn’t get chafed on the floor. you couldn’t necessarily say the same about his treatment of the rest of your body—how his fingers burrow into the skin of your hips, manhandling you back and forth to slam onto the massive girth of his cock. his other hand holds a fistful of your hair to smother your face into the thin pad of fabric, tightening ever so often to tug painfully at the strands. a smear of blood is painted across your lips, oozing from where he sank his teeth into you during the kiss.

the way geto bullies his length inside of you is overwhelming, to say the least. he stretches you out until it’s almost unbearable, flushed tip battering that delicious spot that threatens to make you black out. you can feel the messiness between where you two meet. the sheer amounts of slick and cum dripping down your thighs.

“sh— shit.” you hear him curse under his breath, tell-tale throbbing of his dick signaling he’s close to another orgasm, one which you were born to accept gratefully.

despite geto’s roughness, and his never ending generosity, giving you so much that you can barely handle it, you will take it all with open arms. he is a god— that much is evident without his heavy reminders to you and the other plebians occupying his sanctuary. recently, he has made a decision: to so graciously bless you of all people to birth his heir from your ordinary body. the thought makes you giddy. though it will be a hard job, who are you to say no to a god?

geto presses his hips flush against yours, and you are once again flooded with endless streams of his seed. you’re far past thoroughly bred at this point, poor pussy gushing with the results of his hard labor.

he looks up to glance around the room again. no one has moved a muscle since this whole thing started, both out of respect and fear for their lives. geto just catches someone’s eyes dart back to the floor, a bold move that he’ll kill them for later because how dare they even think they’re worthy enough to look at you two, at this euphoria-driven process to create his next-in-line. their disgusting gaze is a plague on the whole scene. it taints it, ruins it like blood in water. it leaves a bad taste on his tongue. one that can only be alleviated by stuffing you full again. and again and again and again, until the worthless souls around him are sufficiently reminded of their place beneath the two of you.

💫: @staryukis @teddybeartoji @anthoosies @bubblez-blop @deepenthevoid @domainexpansionmypants @luvvmae @starlightanyaaa @soraya-daydreams @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @lovesickliyue

#you are like his little human pet :33 he doesn’t necessarily like you but he favors you more than the other non-sorcerers #geto suguru drabble #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #suguru x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader smut

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hyuckiefluff · 1 year

Note

hihi! can i request corruption kink with jeno or hyuck?? if thats okay!

a/n: thank u for requesting!! i decided to do jeno bc i haven’t written anything for him yet oh and somebody else requested that i do something similar to my jaemin request with jeno so two birds one stone i guess? anyways enjoy!!!!! psa i got way more requests than i expected so thank u to everyone who sent im gonna try to get thru all of them as quickly as possible (if college doesn’t k!ll me first)

btw thank u for 400 followers! love u all

pairing: jeno x tutor!reader

wc: 2k

content: smut

warnings: cursing, fingering, masturbation, edging (kind of) , mentions of food (ice cream), big dick jeno ofc, backshots yuh!!!, rough sex, jeno is kinda too much in this lol, marking, cum eating, taking risky pics without consent, no after care, usage of pet names like pretty and baby *whispers* and whore. lmk if i missed any

masterlist

Jeno had always liked experienced girls. The kind he didn't have to treat with gloves, who were game for him to fuck so hard that they'd feel it afterward. At least, that's what he thought he was into.

Then you walked into the picture as his little brother's tutor. You were always polite and proper, wearing those buttoned up shirts and pencil skirts that gave off a more mature vibe than your actual age. He knew you recently graduated college, which he liked because you were older than him. But the thing is, you were incredibly innocent and naive. I mean, you didn't even catch on when his brother cracked those not-so-subtle, inappropriate jokes about you.

Jeno wouldn't usually spare a second thought for someone like you. After all, you couldn't even hold his gaze for more than a couple of seconds. So, why on earth was he now holed up in the bathroom, pumping himself to the thoughts of your ass in that skirt? Maybe it was because of how clueless you were, bending over the table to help his brother with his work, offering Jeno a perfect view of your perked ass. He tried to resist, truly he did, but it was hard, especially when your shirt hiked up, exposing the curve of your back.

Jeno had to make a quick exit from the living room, and now… Here he was, working up a sweat in the cramped bathroom trying to imagine your hand, or even your mouth, around his dick instead of his own. Imagining how he'd finish all over your face, leaving you in a state of shock and fluster, those big, innocent eyes looking up at him.

"Shit..." he whimpered shakily, the release of his pent-up load leaving him trembling as the white liquid ended up dripping messily all over the bathroom's curtain. This was getting ridiculous… he needed to fuck someone now.

A sudden knock at the door made him jump, his dick still exposed, flopping around as he hurried to check that the door was securely bolted. He quickly adjusted his pants, grabbed some toilet paper, and tried to clean up the mess as much as possible.

What he didn't expect was to find you standing there when he opened the door, holding a popsicle.

He vaguely remembered you saying something about getting ice cream for everyone because it was so hot. That was right before he had bolted upstairs to deal with his urgent situation.

The popsicle was melting, its crimson contents dripping down your hand and arm. Jeno couldn't help but feel like the universe was testing him, and he swore he felt his dick come alive again.

"Oh, sorry... Uhm... I kind of made a mess," you laughed airily but averted your gaze when the eye contact got a bit too intense "Your brother mentioned you guys had wet wipes in here."

"Uh, yeah, down there" Jeno finally responded after a few moments of silently staring at you. You bent down to check under the sink where he directed you, giving him another tempting view of your ass. You missed the quiet grunt he let out while discreetly adjusting the growing situation in his pants.

You straightened up after finding the wet wipes, looking somewhat torn between putting the popsicle down to clean yourself or eating it quickly. Jeno sensed your struggle and casually reached his arm from behind you to take the popsicle from your hand, allowing you to clean up properly.

"Oh, thanks," you said, using the wet wipes to clean your arms and the stained area on your shirt.

Jeno silently watched you in the mirror, his attention focused on the way the white shirt clung to your skin as you diligently worked to remove the stain. When you finally looked up, you found him eating the popsicle—the very one you had been licking just moments ago. Locking eyes with you, he noticed your bewildered expression and gave you a lopsided smile "It was melting."

"Oh..." you said quietly, the heat rushing to your ears revealing your flustered state.

You tried to return to your task, but he stopped you by suddenly grabbing your wrist. His own hand was now sticky from the melting popsicle. He pulled you closer to him and reached his hand to your face, using his thumb to rub against the corner of your lip "You got ice cream here too," but instead of withdrawing his hand after, he surprised you by slipping his thumb into your mouth.

You would have pulled back if you weren’t completely taken aback by what was going on.

With his finger still in your mouth, he playfully pressed the popsicle against your collarbone. The cold sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and your tongue brushed against his finger instinctively. The sight of your mouth enveloping his digit drove his self-control right out the window. He carelessly dropped the popsicle in the sink and leaned in closer, crowding your personal space with his larger frame. His cold hands sneaked under your shirt, and with a quick move, he unhooked your bra straps from your shoulders, exposing more skin for him to explore.

"Jeno... I don't think this is ri-..right,"

"Why not?" he asked, his face burying in your neck, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips.

"Your... brother... he—"

"He's probably busy googling the answers to his exercises, believe me, he doesn't need you back just yet” He assured, pulling you even closer against his hips, causing your skirt to ride up and reveal your panties.

“I knew you were a whore,” he tutted, realizing you were wearing black lace “You wear lingerie to tutor students?" he chuckled dryly, biting a smile as you attempted to cover yourself.

"I’m n–," you whispered, but your words were cut short as his teeth grazed against your skin, leaving marks and savoring the fruity taste left by the popsicle. He didn't bother with the buttons of your shirt, causing a few of them to pop open from the stretch.

Your bra had slipped down too, partially exposing your breasts.

“You like being used like this, don’t you?" he teased, leaning back to take in the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your bruised neck from the sucking and biting, the strands of hair that clung to your flushed face, and your lace panties on display.

He reached for his phone inside his pocket and snapped a quick picture of you in that state. Your expression instantly shifted to one of panic.

"What… are you doing?" You tried to slide off the sink, but he pressed back against you, his hips pinning you in place.

"Don't worry, this is just for me to enjoy later."

Then he kissed you, shushing any protests you had. His hand crept undetected inside your skirt and under your panties, his index finger gingerly spreading your folds. The action made you gasp against his tongue and then, without warning, he inserted a finger. The intrusion made you try to press your thighs together but he was standing between them so it was impossible. Every time he pumped his finger inside, his hips rutted against you, and you could feel the tent forming in his sweatpants brushing against your clothed core.

“…‘m gonna fuck you like no one ever has before,” He groaned against your lips.

He intentionally slowed down to a pace that almost seemed teasing as the knot in your stomach became almost unbearable. But given how shameful this situation already was, you didn’t want to ask for more.

"Are you that desperate for cock, hmm baby?" Jeno asked as you instinctively tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants to bring him closer and relieve the friction.

His finger pumped a few more times before he completely withdrew it. The emptiness immediately made you whimper.

"I'll give you what you want then," he replied as he reached into his sweatpants and casually pulled out his dick. You didn't want to stare like a pervert but... wow. You felt your legs quiver just from its sheer size. There was no way in hell you could take that.

You found it difficult to imagine how anything that big could fit comfortably inside of you.

The smug smirk on his face told you that he liked your reaction "Clearly never seen one so big,"

"Jeno, I can't… we shouldn’t"

"But what kind of gentleman leaves a lady who is obviously in need?" He said cynically as he pulled down your panties.

No more words were necessary, the tension that had been building reached its peak as he aligned himself with your entrance. Jeno tried not to show any vulnerability, but the way your walls tightened around him, even though he was barely inside, was driving him crazy.

As he gradually entered you, soft, breathless gasps escaped your swollen lips. Your hands clung to the sink, keeping you from losing your balance. He stretched you so intensely that it made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You knew it defied anatomical possibility but as he bottomed out, you had a feel that if you touched your lower belly, you might just be able to feel him there.

“'m gonna move," he said through gritted teeth, more like a statement than a question. And with that, he started to thrust, not giving you much time to get used to the feeling of being so incredibly full.

As his hips met yours in a rough rhythm, he mumbled praises while also calling you things you'd never tolerate from anyone else.

"You feel so tight... for me," he groaned, his hand reaching for your face so you would look up at him.

“Eyes up here, doll,” he said in a breathless tone, the pace so fast and rough that it left no room for coherent thoughts. The knot in your stomach twisted, sending waves of almost painful pleasure through you. Your entire body buzzing with his desperate movements.

“J-..J-..Jeno…” His name was the only word that escaped your lips, each thrust causing your voice to quiver.

Suddenly, he lifted you by your ass and turned you around to face the misty mirror. Both your reflections appeared hazy in the condensation-covered glass so he messily wiped it with one hand and then resumed his thrusting. Now, you could see the way your expression changed each time he hit that spot deep inside you.

He continued fucking into you relentlessly, whispering how you would remember the outline of his cock by the time he was finished. His saliva-slicked lips left wet trails on the skin beneath your ear. From this close proximity, you could even hear the soft moans he struggled to suppress.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through your mind, and with a hoarse voice, you pleaded, "Jeno... don't cum inside."

He hummed against your hair but continued ramming into you, and for a moment, you thought he hadn't heard you. However, just as your orgasm swept over you, he pulled out. You sighed in relief and rested your forehead against the steamy mirror, seeking a few moments of calm.

But Jeno had other plans and wiithout giving you a moment to catch your breath, he turned you around and had you on your knees. You looked up at him confused until he aligned his cock with your mouth.

"Open wide," he said, and with no energy left to complain, you did as told.

You expected him to shove his dick into your mouth, but instead, he stroked it a few more times before releasing his load all over your face. Most of it landed in your mouth, but some also splashed onto your cheeks and chin.

"Swallow," he said with a commanding tone, a stark contrast to the way he gently stroked your face.

You complied, taking in as much as you could. You even used a finger to collect the excess and popped it into your mouth. Savoring it much like you did when you licked the ice cream off his finger. Jeno bit his lip, trying to contain himself before he fucked you thrice more against the wall.

“Go ahead and clean yourself, pretty. You got a lesson to finish," he said, adjusting his sweatpants. And with one last chaste kiss on your lips, he left the bathroom.

#nct #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct smut #nct dream fic #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct dream scenario #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #nct jeno #hyuckiereqs

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stylesloveclub · 1 year

Text

sunshine (part 3)

In which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

warnings: nonconsensual advances/kissing when drunk!!!

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Y/n is drunk.

She doesn’t know who’s apartment she’s in, or what the drink in her cup is. She also doesn’t know where Maddie is, or how she’s going to get home tonight. All she knows is that she’s sad and drunk, standing alone in some random kitchen while a party goes on on the other side of the door.

It had been Maddie’s idea to take y/n out partying tonight. She saw y/n’s tear stained cheeks as soon as she walked through the door, and had immediately coaxed her sad roommate into her arms. “What’s wrong?” she’d asked y/n, pulling back and staring into y/n’s teary eyes. “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

Y/n didn’t want to talk about it. She was too embarrassed to admit what happened, cringing everytime she remembered the way her heart broke when Harry laughed at her. She just wanted to forget about it.

Maddie’s solution was going out and drinking. Y/n hesitantly agreed, as her other option would have been to lay in bed and cry, and that just seemed really sad and pathetic.

Now that she’s here though, her bed sounds a lot better than this party.

She’d taken three shots with Maddie and had been feeling fine for the first 15 minutes she was there – but then Maddie had been whipped away by a group of her friends, and y/n was left alone. The shots started to get to her, making her wobbly on her feet, and her head started to hurt from the flashing lights and pounding music.

This really wasn’t her scene, and it didn’t help that she was all alone.

She stumbled over to the makeshift bar looking for a drink, preferably water. But apparently there was no water anywhere in this college apartment, so she’d been given some spiked lemonade instead by some shirtless frat guy who had appointed himself as this party’s bartender.

This was a terrible idea.

She just needed somewhere quiet to be sad! She hates having to walk past all the groups of people crammed into this living room. It’s hot and stuffy here and she feels dizzy and her eyes are dry from how much she cried before she got here. Someone steps on her foot, which makes her stumble sideways, and then she bumps into some tall girl who glares at her meanly and it makes y/n feel horrible and miserable and stressed out.

She spends 10 minutes looking for Maddie, and though she fails to find her roommate, she does find an empty, quiet kitchen. She huffs out a sigh of relief.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

With her watered down, kinda gross, alcoholic lemonade in hand, she hops onto the kitchen countertop and swings her legs sadly. As hard as she may try, she is not a party girl at heart. She always ends up wanting to leave, and she always ends up feeling kinda lonely.

And (honestly) she does not enjoy being drunk that much. It makes her wobbly and extra emotional. And it also makes her tummy turn a little bit. And her head is starting to pound on top of the way it’s spinning.

She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the cabinets. She would give anything to just be back in her room with her books.

Someone bursts into the kitchen, and it makes y/n open her eyes with a startled jump. She stares at the person awkwardly as they totally walk past her, completely unaware that y/n was even in the kitchen at all.

The kitchen newcomer is someone that she vaguely recognizes as one of Maddie’s friends – Jared, maybe? – she briefly wonders if he might know where her roommate is.

Jared walks to the pantry and rummages through, retrieving a bag of BBQ chips which he pops open and starts devouring. The way he crunches and munches on the chips makes y/n cringe, but she says nothing and just sips her drink quietly. She hopes she can just go unnoticed…

Jared opens the fridge and the refrigerator light fills the dark kitchen, illuminating y/n’s silhouette. Jared finally notices her.

“Yo…” he says, eyeing her up and down. “Y/n, right?”

She nods awkwardly, sipping her drink again. She’s gonna drink herself to oblivion simply because of all these nervous sips.

“What’s up!” he says enthusiastically, putting the bag of chips down and wiping his crumby hands on his pants.

“Um, nothing much,” she squeaks out. “Do you– do you know where Maddie is?”

“Oh yeah, I was just with her outside! We got the munchies so m’getting us some snacks.” Y/n nods. At least she knows where Maddie is now. “What’re you doing in here all alone?” Jared asks.

“I’m— um. Just wanted some quiet time, I guess.” She chews on the inside of her mouth nervously.

“I was surprised when Maddie said you were here today…” Jared takes a step forward, standing right in front of her knees, “we don’t get to see you enough. You’re always hiding when we come over.”

She chuckles nervously. Another sip from her drink, no matter how gross it tastes.

Jared reaches a hand out to rest on y/n’s thigh. Her eyes bulge out of her head, her drunk head a little too woozy to comprehend what’s going on. His hand feels sweaty and invasive, unlike Harry’s… who felt warm and soft.

Ugh. Harry. Stupid Harry. She pushes him out of her mind.

“You should hang out with us more…” Jared continues, using his hand to spread her legs so that he can step between them. Y/n, loose limbed and sluggish from the drinks, just lets it happen. It’s weird and kind of uncomfortable… but she has yet to formulate a true reaction. “I think we’d vibe…”

I think we’d vibe? Is that boy code for something? She blinks at Jared with tired eyes. She really just wants to be in her bed right now.

“Can I kiss you?” Jared asks. Huh??? The confusion on y/n’s face must be apparent, because he chuckles and bites his lip. He has this weird look in his eyes that y/n thinks is supposed to be sultry but just makes him look kind of dumb. “Come on… it’d be fun.”

“Umm…” y/n is so confused. She hadn’t realized that this is where her conversation with Jared had been going, but now she feels like it’s obvious. His hands on her legs and then I think we’d vibe. This was Jared… making a move?

Normally, y/n would be repulsed at the thought of it. This would be nothing more than a drunk hookup with someone she doesn’t know or trust. She’d never do that! She’d push him away, and walk straight out of the kitchen without a second thought, because Jared is gross and y/n has standards.

But that was old, romantic y/n. Present y/n is different.

“Ok,” she says simply. How bad could it be? It’s not like she’s saving her first kiss for someone special anymore. And maybe this time, she won’t bring up the fact that she’s a virgin! She’ll just go all the way, get it over with, and then nobody will be able to laugh at her–

Jared’s hot, wet lips make contact with y/n’s mouth. He tastes like barbeque chips and beer. His tongue immediately forces its way past her lips, licking into her mouth, and his hands unceremoniously migrate from her legs to her ass. He’s not gentle as he starts groping her ass, and y/n’s eyebrows furrow together uncomfortably.

She tries to reciprocate the kiss – it had been so easy when it was with Harry! – but Jared kisses like a fish, his mouth agape while he sucks on her lips uncomfortably. His lips feel hard and tense, unlike Harry’s gentle kiss and soft, pink, candy lips. He groans as if he’s turned on and grinds his dick against y/n’s center.

Y/n can’t take it anymore. She pulls her lips off of Jared, too grossed out to even pretend to be into this kiss. Her mouth feels like it was invaded, and she’s realizing that her drunk brain has made a terrible lapse in judgment.

There was no way she’d be able to hook up with this guy, let alone kiss him for any longer! She was insane for even considering losing her virginity to some random guy. That’s just not her. She’s not random or spontaneous… she’s nervous and insecure and needs to feel loved and cherished when her first time comes around. Not … used and gross, the way she’s feeling now. And definitely not when she’s too out of it to even walk straight.

She massively is starting to regret kissing Jared, and uses her hands to push him off.

“Um… I don’t–” Jared starts kissing down her neck, and y/n shrugs away. His kisses feel like a slobbery pitbull drooling all over her throat. “Let’s stop,” she says.

Jared either doesn’t hear her or just ignores her, now dry humping y/n. It feels gross and prepubescent, little ruts of this guy's dick against her most intimate region. When Harry had done it, it had been welcome. It had been Harry! The cute guy who would come sit in her room when there’s a party going on and would help her with math! But this is so… gross. She barely even knows this guy, and he’s making her feel yucky and wrong and uncomfortable.

She hates this – all of it – and tries to close her legs, but Jared’s hips are still between her thighs so she can’t. Her stomach is rolling, the aftertaste of Jared’s barbeque flavored tongue sitting in her mouth, and she’s feeling overwhelmed. “Stop,” she mumbles again, her hands pushing harder on his shoulders.

“Hm, why?” Jared whispers, coming back up to kiss the corner of her mouth. She can smell the alcohol on his gross, hot breath, and she turns her head to the side, dodging him.

“I don’t– I’m not–” she stammers over her words. Her cheeks are turning hot and she’s squeezing her eyes shut to try and regain composure. Jared is licking her earlobe now, and it feels horrible. She pushes harder.

Neither of them hear Harry entering the kitchen.

He’d been lingering around the apartment quietly, the way he usually does at parties. His friends had noticed that he’s in a particularly bad mood tonight for some reason – but Harry doesn’t say anything about it. He just sulked quietly among the groups of people.

Maddie had stomped her way over to him at some point that night, and grilled him for why y/n had come over so upset that day. “Harry!” she huffed, “What’d you do? Did you make y/n cry?”

His frown deepened, “She was crying?”

“Yes!” Maddie blows her hair out of her face. “She was all sad and mopey. I brought her here for a good time but she was still pouty after, like, three shots. I thought you were helping her with math, what happened?”

“She’s here?” Harry turns alert. He sits up, his brows furrowed in his grumpy way, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Where?”

Maddie shrugs. “I dunno. I lost her like an hour ago.”

He was up and searching for her immediately. He checked the bathrooms and all the empty rooms, walked around the apartment with attentive eyes, checked within the huddles of people to see if y/n was hanging around them.

His last hope was the kitchen – but even then, it didn’t seem like she was in there. Just a couple making out, something that he didn’t want to impose on. He was just about to leave, when he heard the smallest, familiar voice, squeaking out stop. He looks a little closer.

His heart stops when he realizes it’s y/n.

“What are you doing?” Harry quickly steps forward, tugging Jared off of y/n.

Y/n snaps her legs shut now that Jared has been removed from between her thighs, while Jared turns around to face Harry with his hands in the air. “What the fuck, man?” Jared spits out.

“She said stop,” Harry fumes, taking a protective step in front of y/n.

“Bro, fuck off, it’s none of your business–” he tries to reach a hand towards y/n, but Harry blocks him. “Do you know this guy?” Jared asks y/n.

She gives a disgruntled nod. She’s half thankful to see him because he interrupted that awful kiss with Jared, but the other half is sad and embarrassed and filled with the insecurity she felt when she’d left Harry’s apartment. When he’d kissed her and then laughed at her.

“Get out,” Harry grunts to Jared, nodding his head to the door. His eyes are dark and mean, and even in the low light of the kitchen, Jared can tell that Harry is not the guy to mess with.

“Whatever,” Jared scoffs, leaving the kitchen.

Harry turns around. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Y/n ignores him, hopping off the kitchen counter. Her left foot, however, has fallen asleep and twists underneath her weight painfully when she lands on the ground. Harry reflexively wraps his hand around her waist so that she doesn’t fall, and pulls her into his chest.

“Hey, hey–” she tries to regain her footing, but this time the drinks in her system make her wobble side to side. Harry’s grip on her tightens, “Stop.”

“Let go,” she whines, wriggling in his hold, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

He lets go when she asks, not wanting her to feel scared or uncomfortable since she looks so out of it, but stands in front of her firmly, eyebrows furrowed. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she sniffles.

“Who’s taking you?” he asks again, taking a step to the side to block her when she tries to walk around him.

She’s silent for a second, trying to figure out her options. “I’ll walk,” she decides.

He lets out an exasperated breath. “Y’can’t walk home right now.” She’s way too out of it, and it’s probably over a 30 minute walk. “Let me drive you.”

“No,” she pouts, trying to brush past him again. “I’m not talking to you.”

“M’sorry,” he sighs, “M’sorry for making you upset, I-I didn’t mean to.” He’d been confused when she’d left him so abruptly (he’d still been catching his breath and calming his heart from that kiss when she ran off), and dismayed when he found out he’d made her cry. His eyes are earnest and pleading, “please let me drive you home.”

She wipes her eyes, a few sad tears hanging on her lashes that she refuses to let fall. “Fine.”

But only because it’s cold outside and her head hurts and she’s too scared to walk home at night.

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“Are you cold?”

Y/n ignores Harry, staring out of the passenger’s side window while they’re stopped at a red light.

“Y/n?”

Still no response. He sighs frustratedly. She’s obviously cold, with goosebumps on her skin and shivering in her seat. He reaches to the back seat and grabs one of his sweaters that he’d worn to class earlier, throwing it in her lap. “You can’t just ignore me all night.”

Y/n swallows thickly, eyeing the sweater in her lap, but refuses to put it on no matter how cold she is. “I’m fine.”

Harry looks over to her. She’s clearly not fine.

Her voice sounds strained and teary, and he can practically feel the lump in her throat. She’s on the verge of tears, sitting in his car with glossy eyes, chewing the inside of her lip, a habit he’s noticed she only does when she’s sad or anxious.

“Tell me what I did wrong, please. Talk to me.”

The first tear falls from her lashes. She’d done so good, holding in her emotions all night, not crying even though she was drunk and miserable!

But Harry sounds so earnest and desperate. She wants to trust him, wants to revel in the comfort she only feels in his presence. But she can’t stop replaying the way he laughed at her in her head.

“Please,” he begs.

Her resolved crumbles. “You– you laughed at me,” She takes a shuddery breath, trying not to start sobbing. “When I told you I was a virgin. You thought it was funny.”

Realization dawns on him, “oh, sunshine…”

“But it’s not funny. It’s normal!,” she continues, “ Like, I-I just want it to mean a lot.. I need it to be with someone I like, someone I trust. I can’t do casual, I’m-I’m not like that.” She wipes her tears away furiously, “and you laughed at me when I told you that!”

“I wasn’t laughing at you!” he says desperately, but she huffs and rolls her eyes. The tears are falling freely at this point and he’s dying to wipe them away. He’s annoyed that the light turns green, forcing himself to look at the road and keep his hands on the wheel when all he wants is to hold y/n’s hands. “I-I get it, I’m sorry, that was dickish of me to laugh, but I wasn’t laughing at you!”

“Yes you were,” she grumbles petulantly, “You literally laughed in my face.”

“No,” They pull up to a stop sign and he glances over at her, “I was just… surprised! Cos you know… I just didn’t expect it. You’re cute and nice and I just… I was surprised. I thought you were just, like, playing a joke on me.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” she huffs in her seat, crossing her arms angrily and staring out the window again.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says again. He looks over at her sadly, his heart aching. He wants it all to be right again, he can’t handle having her cry. “I get it… wanting to wait for someone special. I wouldn’t laugh at that– I think trust is the most important part.”

She sniffles, but stays quiet.

It’s a few minutes later when she sadly squeaks out, “you were my first kiss, too.”

Harry’s heart breaks in his chest. He doesn’t know how he’s gonna fix this.

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He parks in front of her apartment building when they get there, and rushes out of his seat to open y/n’s door for her.

He tries to help her get out, offering his hand like a gentleman, but she refuses him and hops out of the car all by herself. She struggles to stay upright, though, desperately holding herself up with the car door as she stumbles, still pretty drunk and discombobulated.

At some point during the car ride she decided to suck it up and put on Harry’s sweatshirt. Not because it was comforting and smelt like him. Just because it was cold outside.

He follows behind her as she stomps up the stairs to her apartment door, and stands patiently for the next three minutes as she fumbles with her keys, trying to fit them in the lock. When she (as he expected) fails to open the door, she angrily shoves the keys into his hands and stands off to the side with crossed arms.

He doesn’t find himself offended by her grumpy behavior. He deserves it, he supposes. Plus, it’s not that hard to deal with her angry huffs and little stomps and furrowed eyebrows.

She’s a much cuter grump than he is, that’s for sure.

He unlocks the door for her and holds it open, and she beelines for her bathroom. She needs to brush her teeth immediately or else she might throw up from that horrible kiss. And her mascara is getting all clumpy and making her eyes sting.

Harry goes to her kitchen, grabbing a pack of Advil that’s just sitting on the counter after filling up a glass of water for y/n from the Brita in the fridge. He hears a loud bang and a whiny owwwww from y/n’s bathroom, and chuckles to himself. She’s like a little clumsy baby deer.

He remembers the last time, how many times she’d stumbled over herself, how many times she’d almost tripped and landed on her face. How he’d accidentally walked in on her changing last time. How sweet and soft she looked, tucked into her bed with her little stuffed bunny.

He shakes his head to himself. He undoubtedly has a soft spot for her. She’s wriggled her way into his heart and melted him into a heart shaped puddle. He… he doesn’t ever want to see her cry again. He just wants to hold her, keep her safe, tuck her inside of his pocket and make sure she’s happy forever and ever.

She’s sunshine. She doesn’t deserve to be sad.

This time, he knocks before he lets himself into her room, giving her ten seconds to compose herself before peeking his head in. His eyebrows crinkle when his eyes land on y/n.

“Why’re you on the floor?” he asks, quickly putting the water and tiny red painkiller on her bedside table.

“I dropped my earring,” she pouts, not looking up at him. She’s on her knees, patting around herself and desperately searching for the butterfly shaped studs she’d been wearing that night. She sounds like she’s about to burst into tears, “I-I can’t find it.”

Harry sees it glimmering behind her. He kneels down next to her and picks it up, holding it in front of her face. “This?” Her wide eyes glimmer as she nods, taking it from him and walking on her knees all the way over to her desk to put it in her little heart shaped jewelry dish.

She’s already nicely dressed in her pj’s (a fuzzy pair of pink pants paired with a tank top so that she wouldn’t overheat tonight) and she’s finished her drunk girl night routine (no skin care – just a makeup wipe and messily brushing her teeth), exhausted and ready for bed.

Harry holds out a hand to help her up from the floor. This time, she doesn’t resist. She’s tuckered out, too sleepy to maintain this grudge. All she wants is her bed.

Harry’s hand feels warm as her smaller hand wraps around his palm, and she lets herself be pulled up by him and guided to her bed. He lifts up her blankets for her and uses a steady hand on her hip to ensure that she doesn’t fall sideways while she climbs into her bed. He tucks her in, pulling her duvet up to her chest, and without her having to ask, he picks up the little stuffed bunny who lays sadly at the foot of her bed.

She watches him with round eyes as he kneels down next to her bed, tucking the little bunny in right next to her. Her skin looks soft and dewy, her hair framing her face in delicate wisps. She stares at Harry with wide, unwavering eyes, still glossy and red-rimmed from all the tears she shed today.

He hates himself for being the cause of them. It takes everything in him not to lean forward, brush the hair out of her face, and kiss her sad, pouted lips.

“All good?” he asks instead.

Her fingers wrap around her stuffed animal gently, and she gives a shy nod.

He smiles, “Okay.” His eyes are soft and caring, a wonderful contrast to the last time he tucked her into bed, when he’d been so gruff and stoic. Y/n has always found herself easily distracted by his pretty green eyes. They used to be so dark and mysterious, back before he’d started tutoring her. Before he’d kissed her. But now, there’s a glimmer in them that makes her feel warm.

There’s just a certain softness to him tonight… one that she hasn’t ever witnessed. Her heart glows in her chest when his hand reaches out to rest on her arm gently. She loves the way his palm feels on her skin, loves looking into his eyes and seeing him stare right back at her. He gives her arm a soft, reassuring squeeze, and starts to stand up.

Y/n takes a sudden breath. “Harry?” she quietly calls out his name.

“Hm?” He pauses immediately. His name sounds wonderful falling from her lips. He wants to hear it over and over again.

“Can… can you stay?” Her fingers twist around the bunny’s ears nervously. “Just for a little bit.”

He’s frozen for a second. She bites the inside of her lip nervously. She knows that he cares – she can feel it – but still, she braces herself for the sting of rejection.

“Yeah.” He sits himself down on her bed, and finally lets himself brush her hair out of her face. “I can stay,” he murmurs.

She exhales softly, a puff of relief floating in the air in front of her. Her eyelashes flutter shut as his fingers softly graze her forehead, then down to trace the apple of her cheek. He smiles as she nuzzles her face closer to his hand, silently asking for more affection. Like a little kitten, he thinks as he cups her cheek with his palm, petting her softly and smoothing her hair back.

She smiles contentedly to herself. She can’t even remember why she’d been so insistent on refusing Harry’s help tonight, why she’d ignored him in the car and fought his offers to drive her home.

This moment… it’s perfect. She could stay here with Harry forever. She snuggles into her duvet and pulls her bunny closer to her chest.

Harry stays there, petting her hair and staring at her sweetly, until her breathing evens out and the smile slowly fades from her face.

That night, y/n dreams of curly brown hair and green eyes. Visions of warm hands and gentle touches cloud her mind, with flashes of sweet words and the name sunshine falling from rosy pink lips.

She also dreams of a soft kiss being pressed to her cheek, and the feeling of chocolate curls brushing against her face while a deep voice murmurs goodnight against her skin.

That part wasn’t 100% just a dream, though.

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A vanilla iced latte with oat milk is gently placed in y/n’s line of vision, just a few inches away from where she’s tapping her apple pen against the library desk. She looks up, confused.

The latte bringer is Harry, his pretty curls covered by a beanie.

“I saw you studying.” His green eyes glimmer as he swipes his finger across his nose. “Thought you might want a treat. To keep you motivated.”

“Oh…” she puts down her pencil, and sits up a bit straighter. “Thanks,” she smiles nervously.

He nods. The air is tense. They haven’t seen each other in a few days, the last time being when he brought her home and stayed in her room until she fell asleep. She’d woken up alone, with only the remnants of his boyish scent lingering on her sheets… but her heart had felt full.

She remembers him apologizing, and she remembers his earnest eyes and how he’d begged her to tell him what he did wrong so he could make it right. And she, of course, remembers how he’d tucked her into bed, and how his hand had cupped her cheek.

But, even despite his kind eyes and peace-treaty latte, she still feels nervous around him – especially now that she’s stone cold sober. Drunk y/n had been perfectly fine leaving everything in the past and snuggling into Harry’s touch, but sober y/n is obviously an overthinker.

How was she supposed to act, when Harry had given her the best first kiss ever and also made her cry for hours straight right after? What was she supposed to say, when he’d rescued her from her failed attempt of a casual hook up and then driven her home and tucked her into bed with her stuffed bunny?

“Do you want to sit?” she asks.

He nods, immediately taking a seat next to her. She takes a sip of her latte, and it’s perfect. It’s exactly what she would’ve ordered for herself.

“Your midterm is tomorrow, isn’t it?” Harry fidgets in his seat, nervously using his thumb to pinch at the skin of his pointer finger.

She nods. “M’nervous.” The past five hours have been spent at the library, doing more practice problems.

“You studied really hard. I think you’ll do well.” She must’ve finished all the problems in the textbook by now, Harry thinks. Y/n shrugs in her seat, looking down at her latte discouragedly. “I mean it,” Harry emphasizes, ducking his head down to catch her eye.

“I’m just worried I’ll make some stupid mistakes. Or that I’ll blank and forget the trig rules.”

“Don’t psych yourself out,” he says. His hand moves forward, as if he wants to reach for her hand, but he holds himself back and just rests it on the table. “You’ll overthink it and start freaking out. Just pretend like you’re doing more practice problems instead of a test. You were doing fine when we were studying together last week.”

They both pause, remembering that study session. The one that ended in a kiss and tears.

Harry clears his throat uncomfortably. Y/n takes a sip from her latte.

Neither of them acknowledge the awkward incident.

“Just imagine you’re in my room doing problems again. Don’t stress out too much. You’ve got this.”

She nods, sighing heavily. Harry watches her fingers as she fiddles with a ring that she’s wearing on her middle finger.

“Thanks for driving me home, by the way,” she peeps. “The other night.”

He nods, “of course.” She’s opened the floodgates, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room. The magnificent kiss, y/n running away, Harry finding her at the party, driving her home, then staying with her until she fell asleep. “Do you… do you remember anything that happened that night? After the party?”

She doesn’t know if he’s referring to his apology in the car, or how he’d stayed in her bed and brushed his fingers through her hair as she fell asleep. Either way, she remembers. Her voice comes out barely over a whisper, “yeah.”

He nods, eyes flickering down to his own hands. “I meant it,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Everything I said. I shouldn’t have laughed, I- I didn’t mean to…” He shakes his head to himself. “It was stupid, and m’sorry. I hate that I hurt you… that I like– ruined the moment–”

“It’s fine–” she stammers, trying to brush it off. She doesn’t want it to be a big deal, she’s already embarrassed and bringing it up again just makes her want to… crawl in a hole.

He sits up straighter, “it’s not fine. I was a dick.” He looks into her eyes, “I’m gonna make it up to you.”

She blinks at him.

“Please let me make it up to you.” His hand, resting on the table, inches closer to her.

Harry cares… she can feel it. She can see it in his eyes, in his small mannerisms. She’s not making it up – it’s real. It feels warm and wonderful, like she’s a flower and sitting in the warm embrace of the sun.

Y/n can’t help but softly smile to herself. “Okay,” she whispers.

She slides her hands forward, and their fingers brush in the middle of the table.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

part 3 hope u loved it :( epilogue is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (aug 12) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine (epilogue) - In which Harry's still grumpy, except for when he's with his sunshine girl.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry x reader #harry writing

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icejjfishesz · 5 months

Text

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀ WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed.

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark.

but it wasn’t enough anymore.

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm.

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you.

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend.

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.”

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase.

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”

she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

#anything but you ✹ꯣ #paige bueckers x reader

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urprettylittlething · 26 days

Note

What happens when Cursed Kitty starts bugging Gojo and Gets to let her leave outside? Do they punish her or do they just give in?

-🥟

Thank you so much for this request, I'm sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to it but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :’) I tried my best with writing this <33

The Lesson For Never Leaving

≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦≧◠ᴥ◠≦

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - I am so so happy to be back, I really hope you all enjoy the content that's to come, and a massive thank you to everyone that's sent in an ask, you've all been so patient with me I love you all so much <333 The poll has voted that these be posted daily so that is what I will be doing :3 Feel free to leave comments either on the post or my inbox, it's really motivating to hear people loving my work <333 I love you all thank you so much <3 and please let me know if I've missed any warnings or spellings, etc. :)

summary - Frustrated and brushed aside, all Kitty wanted to do was go outside.

warnings - Yandere-ness from both of our boys, Spanking, Kitty gets held down, Crying, Kind of harsh, Kitty doesn't really understand what's going on :(, Kinda bratty but she's frustrated and doesn't know how to convey that well, punishment

genre - Oneshot

word count - 1.4k

~spelling and grammar checked~

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The very first time Kitty asks, the both of them would try and distract her instead. Never really answering her question and trying to occupy her with other things in the hopes that she’ll forget about it.

The next few times when she asks, she bugs them with whiney tugs on their shirts with mumbles of “Outside?”, all wide eyed and pouty lips. They just end up sighing and telling her something along the lines of, “No, you can’t go outside baby. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”

And that works for a little while, but the next time she asks and they tell her no, she gets even more pouty, her brows furrowing before she tries asking again. So in return they get just a little bit firmer with their ‘no’s’ and she droops away while sulking.

So when the next time she asks, doing it with a very firm “Outside!” followed along by a stamp with her little foot, they don’t just tell her ‘no’ anymore. Her harshly furrowed brows and downturned lips gently ease themselves from the angered look and instead start to merge into one of vague terror. Suguru and Satoru have taken it upon themselves to start telling her the ‘tales of horror’ they’ve encountered and witnessed from being outside for too long.

Making sure to add what would happen to a ‘pretty little innocent kitty’ like herself, getting snatched up and stolen away forever.

All of those stories are enough to scare her away for a good few weeks after the two of them got detailed enough to get her lips wobbling and eyes all blurry with tears while her ears drooped and her tail curled in on itself. They told her it was a bad idea, what they’ve been saying all along and how they wished they didn’t need to tell her this much to get her to listen. Doing it all with exaggerated voices so she’d feel guilty enough that she didn’t listen to them in the first place. Opening up their arms to her while she dived into them, mumbling small ‘sorry’s and ‘I stay’s.

So the next time she asks, they decide that it’s time they should lay it on a little heavier if they really want to get the message through to her about never leaving. It also didn’t help that her attitude for asking has gotten more demanding than anything else.

She’s stubborn when they tell her ‘no’ this time. Stamping her foot repeatedly while nearly shouting “Outside!!”. They try doing their little manipulating tactic again, trying the story about the big bad dangers of going outside but she’s hearing none of it. Cutting off their gentle, if not a little strained, voices with a stern “No!” and just repeating what she had previously been saying.

So the two men share a look. Silent conversation being exchanged between just the two of them while Kitty looks on in confusion and frustration. One of them raises his eyebrow and the other shakes his head, looking a little dejected all the while.

Of course seeing this from the side-lines and not following along with their little private chat at all, Kitty is taking this as another no.

Her body is shaking and her tail is puffing up in distress because they’re not listening to her and now they’re ignoring her!

Her eyes welled up with frustrated tears and a few dribbled down her cheeks, her fists clenched at her sides as she all but yelled, “Hate you!”. The two opposite her froze in shock while she continued her spiel. “Hate! Want outside! I hate!”

They’re stunned into silence, frozen in disbelief and almost outraged because how dare she. All they are doing is trying to keep her safe, they take care of her, feed her, bathe her, love her. And she hates them?

Their eyes become almost lax, losing the little spark of light that one would normally see. Overcast and dark is how they’re portrayed. Knuckles white and strained from where they’re clutching at different parts of the kitchen counter, where they’d all been during this entire exchange.

Kitty begins losing her flare little by little until it's practically erased like it had never existed in the first place. Except it had, because the two in front of her are the direct result of her harsh words. And they’re scaring her. Brooding and menacing and she’s shaking where she stands. Tail drooping and curling around her lower leg, ears flattened and eyes big and rounded. Tears no longer falling but instead are caught up in her lashes.

It’s only when one murmurs something along the lines of a punishment, the other agreeing, does she try to turn tail and run. But Satoru had already caught her before she even really began running. He half drags, half carries her down the hall and to their main bedroom. Setting her down face first into the fluffed up sheets, sitting down next to her while keeping her arms restrained snug behind her back.

Her tail had curled around her waist during the travel and her ears remained flat against her head, small whimpers and the occasional ruffle of fabric as she shifted around were all to be heard in the room. Satoru remains silent by her side, Suguru’s socked feet thudding delicately along the floor as one of her ears twitches slightly in reaction.

A small whimper is all that's heard when Suguru comes to a stop behind her, flipping up the long baggy shirt Satoru had put on her this morning, revealing her pastel pink lace panties. One of the things they had decided when dressing her for the first time was forgoing any bottoms, they would just be an inconvenience anyway.

It’s when both of them start to speak, one after the other, words of how “This is your punishment.”, “You’re going to learn how to speak nicely.”, “You’ve been a bad kitty.” that makes her bottom lip tremble. Tears welling up in her pretty glazed eyes.

It’s the first hard smack against her pink panty clad cheek that causes her to wail. Big salty tears finally spilled over her waterline and down her cheeks. She starts to squirm when they don’t stop. Harsher and harsher they get. She knows it’s Suguru doing it because Satoru is the one that’s holding her down.

In all honesty she’s struggling to make out what is truly happening. The pain is spreading over each cheek the more Suguru spanks her as she wails and cries.

A few harsh spanks later and the worst one comes next, a loud cracking smack right over a tender spot on her ass cheek and she shrieks. Openly sobbing and blubbering. She’s wounded and confused, scared and wanting comfort.

This is where Satoru speaks up, curled around her upper half to stop her from escaping her torment.

He’s saying something along the lines of ‘only trying to help her understand, “we just don’t want to see you get hurt”, “how many curse users and sorcerers would slaughter her without a second thought”.

All of this combined just makes her sob even harder. Each stuttering inhale and choked out wail, drowning in the mess her face is in of snot and drool and tears. Every smack hurts and every word is less and less comforting. She doesn’t like this. She hates this.

Sobbing and trembling, ears flattened atop her head in her distress while her tail is curled so tight around her waist the muscles strain.

Suguru delivers the last few slaps against her bruised and blushing red ass before he stops. The only thing heard in the room is the heavy breathing behind Kitty, her crying and Gojo's words of ‘comfort’.

Eventually after a few minutes to gather their composure they roll Kitty over. Yes, it does hurt them a little to see her cower away from both of them, trying to curl into herself and hide while she sobs from everything inflicted on her these past minutes.

It’s Suguru that picks her up gently, Satoru leaving to start a hot bath in the other room while Suguru stays on the bed with Kitty. Nestling her into his chest, too exhausted to resist, she buries herself into the side of his neck. Making sure to keep her rear end from touching anything, he stays with her. Kneading her curled in ears gently and making small shushing noises.

Rocking her gently side to side as one hand trails delicate patterns up and down her back. He waits for Gojo to finish the bath, so they can both give Kitty the comfort she deserves. All while reminding her this is what happens when she fights back. And how a lot worse would befall her should she ever dare leave.

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#yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #geto x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #gojo saturo #cursedkitty #yandere geto #yandere gojo #oneshot #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader

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sp4ceboo · 10 months

Text

Second Chance: Jeong Yunho x Reader

A/N: i honestly feel like i went through multiple divorces writing this

tw: alcohol, swearing, HUGE angst, eventual fluff, people are drunk, there's a party (yes that deserves a warning), gets a little smutty at the end, mention of marriage (twice), could be kinda ooc near the beginning because i started writing this within a month of stanning

wc: 5.3k

The second you step through the doorway, you're already regretting conceding so easily to Wooyoung. He's got his nagging technique perfected - you'd probably be curled up on your sofa binging your favourite movies, surrounded with snacks and fluffy blankets and the comforts of your own home if he wasn't nearly as persuasive as he is.

Instead, here you are, at a party you're not very... invested in, half sulking as San welcomes you in, wishing you were at home, watching the Star Wars prequels back to back with Seonghwa.

San is already half drunk. It's easy to tell; his face and the tips of his ears are blushed a rosy pink, and he's giggling at nothing in particular as he hangs off your shoulders, clinging onto your shirt as if he'll lose you in his own semi-crowded living room. You anticipate another five minutes of clingy San, punctuated by tipsy zoomies, before the alcohol he had (probably just a few shots, to be honest) kicks in, and he begins to feel sleepy. With practiced ease - yes, you've done this many times before - you steer him towards the sofa, grinning at Yeosang as you dump San next to him.

'Nooo...' San mumbles. 'Where are you... where...'

You pat his shoulder. 'I'm not leaving yet, don't worry. Yeosang will look after you.'

Retreating into the small crowd before said man can protest at this forced role of caretaker, you wade your way over to Seonghwa and Hongjoong; greeting both, you have a quick exchange about the former's outfit - one he altered himself - before briefly summarising your wishes about watching Star Wars with the latter. In response, he nods sympathetically, but you can tell he's got his eyes fixed on a girl somewhere over your shoulder, so you move on quickly, searching for Wooyoung.

Vaguely, you spot Mingi towering over almost everyone in the corner, but knowing that the one person you're trying to avoid today may be with him, you look away before your eyes seize the chance to find him.

'Look who showed up!' A voice crows behind you.

You turn around, rolling your eyes. 'And whose fault is that, Woo?'

'He's looking out for you,' Jongho tells you, appearing beside Wooyoung. 'Maybe you needed to get out of the house and - '

'And talk to you-know-who,' Wooyoung finishes.

'No,' you snap. 'Absolutely not.'

He pats your head. 'Here, have a drink. Maybe after it you'll be more open to the idea.'

Reluctantly, you take the cup from him. 'Thanks, I guess.'

Wooyoung and Jongho begin talking about some trend on TikTok that they're planning on roping Mingi into doing with them - in truth, it doesn't quite capure your attention as much as the tall, achingly familiar silhouette across the room does. Before you can stop it, your gaze snags on him, on the angles of his jaw and his elbows, on the curving slope of his shoulders. Inhaling sharply, you quickly look away.

And then you glance over at him again.

Just once, and just long enough to see if he's with anyone.

If he's with a girl.

You know he's perfectly capable of it. You know many people at this party who wouldn't say no to him, even if they knew it was just a rebound. You tell yourself you wouldn't really care, it wouldn't really bother you, but it would. Especially if it was her. Somewhere deep inside you, he's still yours; yours to covet, yours to touch and kiss and love.

But he's not, and he brought that upon himself.

'Hey,' Wooyoung says, waving a hand in front of your face. 'You in there?'

You smack his hand away. 'I wish I wasn't.'

Jongho raises his eyebrows. 'You should just talk to him, if it's bothering you that badly. It's almost been three weeks, you know.'

'Or if you don't want to talk, you can get as drunk as San,' Wooyoung adds helpfully. 'You would definitely forget everything. I don't think our Sannie even knows his own name right now.'

You glance down at your cup, and your stomach twists. 'No thanks.'

Wooyoung wraps an arm around you and squeezes you tightly, smiling sadly. You know he just wants you to cheer up, and this realisation makes you painfully aware of the way you're ruining the mood, of the pity in your friends' eyes as they look at you, of the stifling press of bodies that aren't even that close to you. Handing your drink to Jongho, you tell them that you're heading to the toilet.

You take the long way around San's living room. It's partly to avoid the area that you know he is in, and partly because you can feel Mingi's eyes boring into the side of you head. Skirting around the sofa - which is somehow crammed with triple the amount of people it's designed to fit - you wave at Yeosang, who's glaring at you from where he's half squashed under San.

In the bathroom, it's a lot quieter, the thumping bass from Hongjoong's playlist and the hum of voices muffled by the closed door. You glance at yourself at the mirror; you're confronted with your own slightly downturned mouth.

Well, you promised Wooyoung you'd come, not that you'd be happy about it.

After a few minutes, you deem it time for you to emerge again. Schooling your features into something a little more cheerful, you step out of the bathroom, only to be ambushed by the one and only Song Mingi. You sigh. You know what he's here to say, you know he's your friend and he means well, but still, you can't help but feel the beginnings of annoyance bubble up within you. Immediately, you push it down. None of it was Mingi's fault.

'Hi, Mingi,' you say, unable to erase the hint of tiredness in your tone.

'How are you?' He asks, concern bleeding into his features.

'I'm doing alright,' you reply, knowing he sees through you easily enough. 'Haven't been sleeping too well, though.'

Scratching the back of his head, he looks at you apologetically. 'Look, you know what I'm going to say.'

You sigh. 'Go on.'

'You're both my friends,' he sighs. 'It sucks to see you both sad. Yunho's been beating himself up about it for weeks, ever since it happened, and... I know you miss him too. Please, just give him a second chance.'

You blink. It's the first time someone's mentioned him by name tonight, and the pain wells up in you again, fresh and cutting, ripping away the hazy walls of apathy that you'd struggled so hard to build around yourself. Maybe it's fitting that Mingi is the one who causes them to crumble; before everything went to hell with Yunho, it was always you three who hung out together the most, who relied on each other and supported each other, no matter what. It was the closest thing to perfect you've had in your life.

Then Yunho had to ruin it.

He was too heavy handed when he had your heart in his grasp, he was too careless with the trust you'd put in him. Of course you miss him, of course it hurt when you tore him out from he'd been embedded in your life, nestled into the softest part of you heart. Of course you hate avoiding him, but you hate how you let him hurt you more. You refuse to let him in again, just to make the same mistake.

Slowly, you shake your head. Swallowing around the bitterness on your tongue, you look up at Mingi, a deep sadness springing up inside you at the despondency in his eyes. Your voice sounds disembodied, the words far away as you speak.

'I'm sorry, Mingi. I don't think I can do that.'

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After your talk with Mingi, you begin to see getting as drunk as San in a more favourable light. You let Wooyoung shove exactly two shots down your gullet before you realise that tonight, alcohol isn't going to help you; the shots are acrid in your throat, and the deep throb of the bass - which you normally enjoy - is beginning to give you a headache. Defeated and deflated like a rather morose balloon, you tell Jongho that you're going to get a glass of water.

You realise you've misplayed as soon as you step into the kitchen.

He's there.

Yunho.

Digging your nails into your palms, you jerk your head aprubtly to the side to avoid his eyes as they search for yours. There's no way you're backing out of the kitchen because he's here, there's no way you're so weak that you can't stand the sight of him. Determined, you turn your back to him, reaching into the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it up and sipping at the water. You can feel his eyes burning into your back, and this time you can't help yourself.

A glance over your shoulder is all it takes for the sudden onslaught of memories. Months of dates and years of friendship flash before you, tugging your heart this way and that. He stands there, propped against the counter, his brown eyes anchored on you, his lips half parted as if he's about to speak, and all you can see in him is scene after bittersweet scene: Yunho holding your waist in a crowd, Yunho dancing with you around the living room at two in the morning, Yunho making you laugh until you can't breathe, Yunho holding you tight as you cry, Yunho with his pretty lips on yours, Yunho with his beautiful hands on your body, Yunho telling you that he loves you, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho.

And then it's Yunho, bathed in morning light as he lies in bed beside you, his features serious and solemn and deceptively honest as he tells you the sweetest words you've ever heard in your life.

Finally, it's Yunho the traitor, seen across a crowded, badly lit club on the same day, Mingi beside him, disbelieving as he gapes at your boyfriend kissing a girl, a girl who is not you, who could not even be mistaken for you. You've replayed the scene many times in your head, the way he looked up, catching your eyes as you turned to walk away. He caught up with you in the street, and you had the worst arguement of your life in a seedy, dark alleyway, refusing to let him touch you as you cradled the broken pieces of your heart to your chest - it was no longer his to have.

Looking at him now, he looks different; like your Yunho, but tired. There are bags under his eyes - at least you aren't the only one losing sleep - and his hands clench and unclench at his sides, his jaw working as he searches for words. Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter, crossing your arms.

'I...' He starts, but trails off.

Something ignites in your chest as you watch him fumble over words, stumbling over unfinished sentences. Anger burns bright inside you, a potent mix of frustration and longing and bitter sorrow welling up like poison, making you want to hurt him like he hurt you, demanding retribution. All you can see his lips on hers, and it fucking stings.

'Why are you talking to me?' You ask lowly, voice frosty.

Yunho takes a step closer. 'I - I'm sorry. I miss you - so fucking much. I want you back, I need you. I just wish I could make it right so we could - '

'If you want me back so badly, why did you kiss her?' You hiss. 'Did you forget about me in that moment? Or did you just not care?'

He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. 'I, I know I fucked up, badly, and - '

You scoff. You're too angry, too raw, to care about the anguish on his face. He doesn't understand: he doesn't understand that he broke your trust and your heart and you, he doesn't understand that his apology is too late - it was late the moment he touched that girl.

'Fucked up badly?' You snap, incredulous. 'Just badly? Do you remember what you said that morning, on the very same day, while we were still in bed? Do you remember what you told me? You said that you were really serious. You said that one day you were going to marry me. Do you know how happy I was, thinking that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?' You throw your hands up in the air. 'Well, I guess it was all a shitty lie.'

Yunho staggers back as if you actually punched him. His eyes are wounded as they search yours, and he steadies himself against the counter, gripping it so hard his knuckles bleed white. Clenching his jaw, he stares at you, speechless, and you know that you succeeded in your mission to hurt him. It doesn't feel as good as you thought it would.

Then, the kitchen door swings open.

A swell of music spills inside, along with a very tipsy looking girl. Laughter floats through from the living room. Both you and Yunho just look at her, forgetting that you were arguing in San's kitchen, at a party, and she returns your gazes, bewildered as she looks between the two of you.

'Uh, sorry, I didn't know I was interrupting something. I'll, I'll come back later?'

You force yourself to smile, despite it being the expression your features least want to make right now, your voice surprisingly steady. 'Don't worry, you're alright, come in. We should probably go somewhere else.'

'Yeah,' she mumbles, quickly retreating and firmly shutting the door despite your words.

You glance over to Yunho. His hands are shaking as he lifts them, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, and all the fight leaves you at the sight. For all the years you've known him, he's cried maybe four or five times. Your stomach churns with guilt. You caused his tears.

'Hey,' you say softly. 'Do you want to go somewhere more private?'

He nods, his voice thick when he speaks. 'Y - yeah, my car's two minutes away. It's in the multi-storey car park.'

'Okay,' you sigh. 'Let's go.'

He's silent as you rinse out your glass and put it on the dish rack, wiping your hands on your trousers. Ducking your head, you weave your way to the front door, slipping past Wooyoung and avoiding Yeosang and Mingi's eyes as they stare at you, surprise evident in their features as they spot Yunho trailing you. You don't want to consider what they must be thinking at the look on his face. There's no chance that they won't miss the pain in his expression, and you feel sick, burdened with the knowledge that you were petty enough to sharpen your words to deadly points and wield them like weapons.

You remain silent as you walk with him to the car park - he doesn't keep in step with you, instead hovering a few paces behind. The quiet swallows you whole, smothering any rage left in your system, and you hold the lift for him, retreating to the opposite corner as he reaches out to press the button for the top floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you study him in the scratched mirror. Although you don't dare look up at his face, you can feel his gaze, and a lump forms in the back of your throat, thinking of how many times you've been tucked under his arm in the lift to his apartment, his long fingers stroking down your side.

Harshly, you swallow, reminding yourself that you can't let him in.

You can't open your heart, just for it to be broken again.

Despite this, you find your gaze straying over his reflection. He must have left his jacket at San's, because all he has on is his black t-shirt and jeans, the former of which is slightly damp down the front - someone probably spilt their drink on him, and the fabric clings to his skin in a way that makes you yearn to press him against the wall and kiss him until you're both dizzy. One of his hands is shoved in his jeans pockets; you desperately wish that you could slip your fingers in with his, just to feel his warmth and his skin against yours. Even under the crappy lift lights, he's beautiful, as beautiful as ever. It's how you've always seen him, how you always will.

The top floor of the car park is open, and during the time you were in the lift, it's begun to rain. You begin shivering, and out of your peripheral, you see Yunho lift his hand before he pulls it back quickly, as if he was going to reach out to you and tug you close before he thought better of it.

His car is the only one there, seeing as it's well into the night, and he unlocks it as you walk towards it. Hesitating with your fingers on the passenger door handle, you pause, debating with yourself - he hovers on the driver's side, watching as you deliberate before choosing the backseat.

You don't want to admit it, but you want to be closer to him.

Within seconds, you're sitting next to him in the back of his car, and you're faced with the looming need to pick up your disaster of a conversation where you left off; raising your eyes to find his, relief washes through you to find them steady, the emotions in them whirling and a total mess, but not too overwhelming.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself to ask the question that's been on the tip of your tongue all night. You tell yourself that you can do this, that you can pretend this doesn't hurt as much as it does, but it's quickly proven a lie when your voice comes out weak and smaller than you'd like.

'Why - why did you do it?'

A haunted look enters his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face.'I... I don't know. She pulled me down, and I just didn't move, I just let her, because it was nice to feel wanted - ' His voice cracks. ' - even though you had always given me so much more than that. You loved me and I fucked it up. I took you for granted and - '

Harshly, he swallows, cutting himself off. His words are rushed, tight, his hands fisted in his lap as he looks away for a second, breaking eye contact and staring out into the car park as he steels himself. You're reeling from his words, from the painful honesty that laces them, like poison on a blade. There's no doubt that, even with your walls up, you still love him, because his desperation is like a knife twisted in your heart - hesitantly, you reach out, wanting to touch him, to comfort him somehow. In response, he grabs your hand, almost crushing it in his grip.

'Please,' he whispers brokenly. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I - I just need you to let me love you again. I never wanted to hurt you, I - '

'But you did, Yunho,' you reply softly, grief making your voice thick and unsteady.

His face crumples. Bringing his trembling hands to his face, he turns away to hide the tears spilling down his face, and regret shoots through you like a bullet through the heart. Gripping his hand, you pull him to face you, but suddenly you can't stop, won't stop, tugging him closer until he's in your arms. It feels so right to share space with him, and you wonder why you ever tried to get over him and push him away when he's all you ever wanted, when he's your home. Sobs wrack his body, and you press your lips to his forehead, your own tears running down your cheeks into his hair as you tighten your arms around him.

'You hurt me, Yunho,' you choke out. 'I can't deny you hurt me. But it hurt because I loved you, and I love you now. I loved you when you kissed her, and I hated myself for it, but I guess my heart knew who it was made for, because I never stopped loving you.'

His chest heaves, a great shudder running through him, and he trembles, a giant felled by your sweet, healing words. He presses his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salt of his own tears in the wet material of your shirt; his fingers twine into your hair, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to get his words out between his rattling sobs in the strain of his voice, but he does.

'I - I missed you with every breath I took while you were gone,' he says. 'I lost the best part of me when you left. I love you, I'm a fucking fool, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - '

Gently, you press a finger against his lips, making him look up at you. His words don't matter any more, not while he's in your arms and not while you know that you should have never let him go, that you should have never let either of you try to live without the other.

'I missed you too, Yunho,' you murmur. 'And I will never stop loving you.'

At your words, he goes completely still. He's frozen for a moment, his face inches from yours. A shiver runs down his back, and his eyes dart down to your lips.

'Can I - fuck - I need - '

He's taut as a bow string, thrumming with energy, and you can see the desperation on his face - he needs your lips on his as much as he needs to breathe. And yet, he still asks. You know then, with every fibre of your being, that he's what you want, that he's the only one you'll ever want, ever love.

'Yes,' you breathe. 'Yes.'

Cold moonlight limns his features as he leans in, but there's nothing cold about the look in his eyes. One hand cups your jaw, the other cupping the nape of your neck, his long fingers warm against your skin - his breath flutters softly against your lips before he closes the gap between you. The breath is knocked from you; he's never kissed you with this sort of aching tenderness, and you sink into his touch, eyes drifting shut.

You feel like you're falling again, the way you did the first time, when you'd rant to Mingi for hours about the smallest touch or moment you shared with Yunho, except this time, you lean into the tug of gravity with an eagerness you've never felt before. Like before, you teeter on the edge of a precipice, except, this time, you know what's at the bottom; you know the exhiliration of the fall, and the deep, aching love that awaits.

You jump, arms outstretched, knowing Yunho will catch you.

After you kiss Yunho for what seems like hours, running your hands up his back and burying them into his hair, pressing him closer to you and drinking him in, he drives you home. You're still drunk on his taste as you curl into him on your sofa, talking to him about nothing in particular, just soaking in the euphoria of being in his arms again; truly, you don't notice that your words become further and further apart, and that your eyes are drooping - you're too busy listening to the soft timbre of his voice.

Nothing matters to you in this moment. It's just you and him, wonderfully relaxed against each other, not allowing an inch of space between you. Honestly, you're unsure where you end and Yunho begins.

Your heart is overflowing.

You're home.

Yunho isn't quite aware what the words leaving his mouth mean. He's too busy studying the tilt of your neck and the way your lashes fall against your face, relearning the essence of you. A smile tugs at his lips when you finally succumb to sleep, head flopping against his chest. It reminds him of the many occurences when you'd fall asleep on him while watching movies: the times before he asked you out, when he'd carefully hold you, his heart pounding in his ears, and the times after, where he'd cradle you to him, peppering kisses all over your face.

Gently, he gathers you up in his arms and carries you to your bed, laying you down and tucking the blanket from the sofa over you - he knows you hate to get under the sheets without a shower and your so called 'outside clothes' off. Planning to quietly return to his car, Yunho straightens, but a small tug at the bottom of his shirt prevents him from standing up all the way. A glance down finds your fingers fisted in the hem of the black fabric; blearily, you blink your eyes at him, peeking out from beneath the blanket.

'Stay,' you mumble. 'Please.'

Yunho's heart flutters in his chest. You're beautiful, even with your hair a mess and your eyes and face still a little red from crying, and he could never resist you. He thinks he'd do anything for you, if you'd dare ask.

This time, he's determined that he's going to marry you. He wants to be yours forever - he wants to wake up by your side every morning, he wants to come home to you, he wants to tell you he loves you in your every waking moment.

Sitting down on the mattress beside you, he lets you clamber into his arms and snuggle into his chest.

'Whatever you say, my love.'

When you wake up the next day, you're utterly relaxed. It's as if your body knows that you're in the safest place you could ever be - in Yunho's arms. His breathing is still deep, his hair a mess, the way it always is in the mornings. You don't think you've ever felt this comfortable; the mattress seems to cradle your back, the blankets a warm cocoon around you, and Yunho is draped over you, his long limbs tangled with yours.

Smiling dumbly, you kiss his fluffed up hair, carding your fingers through it. A soft laugh leaves you when you realise his mouth is half open and that he's drooling on you, his cheek pressed against your shoulder.

Extracting one arm from beneath the blankets, you scrabble around your bedside for your phone. Yunho makes a soft sleepy noise, a frown digging into his forehead, and you hush him, rubbing his back soothingly; you're terribly relaxed right now, and you don't want to get up just yet.

In fact, you're pretty sure you want to stay like this forever.

Quickly, you snap a few pictures of him on your phone, unable to resist. Scrolling through your notifications from last night, you find a text from Mingi, asking how you are - he doesn't ask why you left the party with Yunho yesterday, or how it went, but his curiosity is still evident. You open the chat, a grin making its way onto your face.

Second chance granted, you type.

And then you throw your phone back onto your bedside table, ready to enjoy your morning with the man stirring in your arms. Yunho huffs quietly as he surfaces from his dreams, his long arms tightening around you; he buries his face into your neck, pressing a sweet kiss there, then another and another. Threading your fingers into his hair, your eyes close as he mouths at the hollow of your throat. He shifts so he's more comfortably situated between your legs, and you kiss his temple.

'Mm,' you hum contentedly. 'Morning.'

'Morning, love,' he replies.

His voice is raspy - deep and familiar as it always is in the morning. A memory comes to you: one of the many mornings you spent with him in bed, the sheets tangled around your legs with his skin on yours, and your stomach flips, warm longing bubbling up inside you. Gently, you tug at his hair, and he responds immediately, something that you suspect was already semi-hard nudging at your core before he shifts back quickly.

You frown as he pulls back a little. Searching his eyes, which have brightened a good deal since he first blinked them open, you examine them for any caution, but all you find is a deep seated fire.

'What's up?' You ask softly, cupping his face.

He turns his head so he can kiss your palm. 'I - I want to... but I don't want to do anything too fast if you don't want it. I know I hurt you.'

Leaning in, you press your forehead against his. 'Fuck going slow, Yunho. I love you. You know I do.'

It feels wonderful to say. The infatuation soaking the words is sweet on your tongue, magnificently domestic, something you missed saying to him every day, whispering it into his hair and against his lips like an oath. You feel like you're floating, a thrum of heat flushing through your body at the look in his eyes. He's tense, his muscles rock hard under your hands, his gaze transfixed on yours. Slowly, his lips part.

'Sweetheart,' he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your neck. 'You're driving me insane.' His touch travels to your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin. 'I love you. More than you could ever know.'

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you find yourself mesmerised by him - his hair's a mess and his t-shirt is rumpled and emotions burn in his eyes, setting you on fire.

Fuck, he's glorious.

You grab his chin, fitting your lips to his. Yunho reciprocates like a man starved, his tongue licking into your mouth, hot and wet, his fingers curling around your waist and bringing your body snug against his - your head falls back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed when his hands trail teasingly up your body to cup your breasts, pushing up the hem of your shirt. Dipping his head, he nips at your skin, and you wouldn't stop the way your hips buck up into his even if you could.

A soft noise leaves your throat when his fingers ghost over your core, and he chuckles softly; you groan his name, nails scratching lightly at his shoulder, spurring him on as gently, he pushes your legs open, smoothly moving down the bed so that he's framed between your thighs.

He keeps his gaze on yours as he slips your underwear off you, a smirk tugging at his lips when a shudder wracks your body at the first touch of his fingers on your slit, your back arching - you'd be embarrassed, but there's liquid fire in your veins, and all you can think of is him.

'Fuck, Yunho,' you choke out. 'Fuck.'

'You like that?' He teases, slipping a finger inside.

A whine rips from your chest. You clamp tightly around him, vice like, and he begins to pump his fingers in and out, his lower lip trapped under his teeth as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Wickedly, he curls his fingers inside you, sending bolts of pleasure shooting white hot through you, his carnal expression turning almost sadistic, as if he's studying the exact angle at which your eyes roll back.

On your bedside table, your phone dings once, then three times more in quick succession. You know it's Mingi.

You ignore it. There are more pressing matters at hand, slotted right between your legs and littering feather light kisses on your thighs.

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