#btw i love your moodboards!

[graveyarrdshift]

happy birthday August!!! 😍🎉😻

Thank you Sakshi, love you bestie 💝

[zorrasucia]

this mess was yours (now your mess is mine) - Part 1

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (6.4k)

Tags: Smut, Set two(ish) years before the present aka the New York years, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy (my beloved), Mutual Masturbation, P in V Sex, Thigh Riding, Handjob, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Friends with Benefits, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: Carmy is your front door neighbor. You fall head first into a friends with benefits situationship. What could possibly go wrong?

"You know, I had never met someone so committed to ghosting. Leaving the city... That's a whole other level," you said, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Not as bitter as the sight of Carmy, though. He looked beautiful still, eyes wide with surprise and face red with embarrassment. You were in the alley behind the restaurant, where he had dragged you away from the staff mumbling something about "an old friend from New York."

"I've been uh-" his hands were fiddling with a spoon somewhat manically.

"I know," you interrupted. "I read your spread in Food and Wine. I was at the dentist and they had the magazine. Imagine my surprise when I saw that my neighbor, sorry, ex neighbor and ex friend with benefits, was the main story of a culinary magazine."

You were being melodramatic, you knew. But you had earned it. It had been months, fucking months, and not a word - he could be dead for all you knew.

"I told you I was a chef," he said sheepishly.

"Fuck you, Carmy."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fair," he admitted with a deep sigh. "Do you, uh, wanna talk?"

"Yes."

2 years earlier

The elevator of your shitty, overpriced building was out of order for the third time this year. Fuck. As you climbed up the stairs you started hearing someone on the phone, his voice gruff.

"Sugar called. She is worried about the restaurant, she's worried about you..."

As you got closer you started to make out the voice on the other side of the phone, rougher, defensive, and very loud.

"My baby brother is worried about me? Well, fuck me. I must be a real goddamn mess, huh?"

"Don't be like that, Mikey. If you need me to come back, just fucking say it."

It was your front door neighbor, you realized. He was leaning on the wall by his door, rummaging through his backpack, his face scrunched up and red.

"Don't bother coming over, hot shot, everything's under control," the voice on the phone said, a little condescending.

"That your stupid little brother? Tell him to go fuck himself, will you, Mike?" a second voice chimed in, followed by the defeaning sound of a hundred knives and forks falling to the ground. "Fuck me!"

And the line went silent. You stood awkwardly, hand on your doorknob, waiting. You glanced at your neighbor and found his gaze vacant as he stood in front of his apartment door, keys in hand, standing still. He honestly looked on the edge of a meltdown and your heart ached for him.  

"It's Carmy, right?"

Your voice woke him up from his daydream - probably more like day-nightmare.

"Yeah. Hi," he managed, absent. He was still fiddling with his keys.

"No offense but you look like shit," you said and it made him huff half a laugh - he looked pretty when he smiled. "Wanna come in for a drink?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Carmy replied and followed you inside the apartment.

"So what do you want?" you asked, head inside the fridge. "I have beer-"

"Actually, uh, I don't drink," Carmy said like he had just remembered.

"Oh, so coffee? It's a little late but I think I have decaf somewhere..." you offered gently, moving towards the pantry.

'It's- never mind," he said, looking conflicted, walking backwards, to the door. "I just didn't want to be alone tonight," he winced and your heart skipped a beat. "That sounded awful. Sorry, I- uh- I'll leave."

"It's okay," you said, a shy smile curving your lips. "I've been trying to hit on you for months so it's more than okay."

"Oh!" Carmy froze, eyebrows arched, stunned.

"Yeah," you looked down at the floor, face flushed. "Gave up for a minute there. Thought you had a girlfriend or boyfriend so I-"

"No, there's nobody," he rushed to say. "I'm just busy."

"Workaholic?" you guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted.

You moved towards him, slow, Carmy's blue eyes following the movement of your hips. You stood right in front of him, one hand raising to touch his arm, up his shoulder and then holding his face.

He blurted: "You're pretty."

"You're cute too," you replied, smiling.

You leaned forward and kissed him. Carmy returned the kiss, gentle, soft, your hands tangling in his hair. You parted for a second, eyes searching his, finding him flushed. It was only a second of hesitation before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close, kissing hungrily, his tongue touching yours, holding you tight like you were a lifeline - like he needed this as much as you did.

"Bedroom?" you asked breathily the moment he started kissing your neck.

He nodded and pushed you gently past the kitchen. It was a good thing he had a vague idea where it was.

You hit the edge of the mattress and leaned backwards, dragging him into bed with you, opening your legs to let him settle there. He kept kissing your jaw and collarbone, tickling your skin with his curls, humming while you raked your nails through his scalp. Suddenly, his hands moved from holding your waist to squeezing your ass; you tugged at his hair in surprise and Carmy let out a sound between a yelp and a moan. It made you melt and giggle, bringing him closer still.

Your hands moved down, tickling as they reached the hem of his shirt; Carmy sat up and removed it, desperate.

"Fuck," you muttered, your fingers tracing the lines and planes of his torso for a moment. He was gorgeous.

It had gotten way too hot inside the room and his touch was making you dizzy, so you got rid of your shirt too, a plain beige bra underneath. His fingers traced the edges of the cups, leaving goosebumps on your skin, making you sigh with pleasure. It wasn't enough, though.

"Wait," you gasped and he froze immediately.

"You alright?" he asked, looking up, like he was scared he had done something wrong.

You cupped his face gently. "I'm just taking it off," you giggled, letting go of his face to open the clasp and tug it down. "This isn't even a nice one," you lamented, thinking of a dark lace ensemble, used only once and with someone less enthusiastic about you than Carmy. Still, his eyes became impossibly wide once your bra was off.

"Shit," Carmy whispered, burying his face in the valley between your breasts, eager, leaving kisses everywhere, carefully sucking on your nipples. You arched your back and held him tighter, urging him to get closer - you wished he was a little rougher but the tender way that he was going about things was nice. You felt cared for.

Your hands went down his stomach, fingers hooking in his belt loops, tugging with need. He stopped for a moment, looking straight into your eyes.

"Do you want me to-?" he hesitated.

"We can just keep making out but I'd like you to fuck me," you said plainly. "If you want."

He nodded, dazed. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

You tugged at his trousers, fighting with the belt buckle for a moment in your haste.

"Hold on. Let me," he said, getting rid of his slacks while you took both your jeans and underwear off at once. He gave you a wide eyed stare as he finally threw his boxer briefs carelessly to the floor.

The atmosphere was charged as you laid down facing each other.

Almost as if to break the tension, one of your hands reached out for his cock, caressing it, making him groan.

"So soft," you mumbled.

He rushed to touch you too, cupping your pussy. His fingers were shaking a little, which gave you pause. You touched his wrist, rubbing your thumb on his tattooed skin. He looked at you.

"Sorry, I'm uh-"

"Nervous?" you prompted and he nodded. "Yeah, same. I've had a dry spell of... Almost eight months. You?"

"Years," he said, clearing his throat.

"Fuck. That's tough," you said with a sympathetic smile, your hand letting go of his cock to caress his shoulder blade instead, reassuring. "How are you at following directions?"

"Honestly, pretty fucking great," he said with a nervous chuckle.

"We can work with that."

You grabbed his right hand, and took his middle finger in your mouth, sucking on it thoroughly, a shiver running down Carmy's spine. You guided his hand back between your folds, dragging it up the length of your cunt until the tip of his finger was right on your clit. You closed your eyes in pleasure, his long, calloused fingers feeling delicious on you.

"There," you said breathily.

"How?" Carmy asked.

"Circles."

Your eyes fluttered once he started moving, slow and feathery. Your hand caressed the head of his cock and the sudden touch made Carmy's hand stutter and then stop completely.

"You first," he mumbled, taking your hand and placing it on his chest instead.

"A gentleman," you joked breathily, tracing one of his tattoos with the tip of your nail. You were getting flustered again now that his finger was moving faster. "A little to your right... Fuck, that feels good, Carmy."

He offered you a wicked smile in return.

"Faster?" he asked.

You nodded, biting your lower lip.

"Keep doing it just like that. Don't change a fucking thing," you pleaded, moving closer, your leg over his hip to give him more access, holding tight to his shoulders. "Fuck, your hands! So good, so good, so good," you mumbled nonsensically into his ear and Carmy smiled wide. You started kissing him frantically, getting closer and closer. "Oh!"

You stiffened in his hold, legs shaking a little, and a long moan leaving your lips. His finger was still moving, helping you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"You okay?" he asked after a minute.

"Yeah," you sighed, and leaned to kiss him, all tongue, lust drunk. "Thank you."

Your hand reached for his cock, finding it achingly hard, Carmy's eyes rolled back at the touch. He moaned. There was a lot of precum on his tip. Was all that from just hearing and seeing you?

"I'll probably fucking embarrass myself but I really wanna be inside you," Carmy managed breathily.

You smiled and grabbed a condom from your bedside table.

"Do you want me to put it on?" you asked when you saw him hesitate to take it out.

"Go ahead," he watched your hands roll the condom on, eyes wide as you held him. "Fuck."

He grabbed your leg and hoisted it back over his hip. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you sighed, guiding his cock inside you with one hand and holding his arm with the other. "I know it's been a while so don't worry if you don't last," you said.

Did you want Carmy to fuck you hard and long? Yes. But you were reasonable.

He nodded sheepishly, moving gently until he was completely buried inside you.

"Fuck, you're so warm," Carmy said, eyes closed in concentration. "So tight."

You chuckled against the side of his face, flushed and hot.

"You feel amazing too," you said, the stretch of your pussy delicious and satisfying. You kissed his temple and his cheek, already a little sweaty and salty. "You can move now."

He didn't need to be told twice. The slam of his hips was frantic from the beginning, feral sounds coming from his chest, it was exactly what you needed. You realized Carmy was probably working his shit out while fucking you but it didn't feel like he was using you at all. He was completely present: his eyes on your face, his mouth on your skin, and his hands caressing you.

"Are you good?" he asked.

"So fucking good," you replied, your recent orgasm leaving you sensitive and electrified. "You're already lasting longer than I thought you would," you said with a giggle.

"Fuck off," he said lightly.

Suddenly, you went back to the third or fourth time you had seen Carmy, crossing paths in the staircase, the primal part of your brain fantasizing about what it would be like to have sex with him, you on top, his strong hands holding your hips possessively. If this was a one time thing, you should make the most of it, right?

"Can I-? Fuck. Will you let me ride you, Carmy?" you said.

His pupils dilated with desire. "Yes. Fuck," he blurted out, rolling over almost immediately.

You settled on his hips, the angle doing wonders for you - his tip brushed your G spot and your clit touched the hair at the base of his cock.

"Fuck."

You took his hands and placed them over your hips, while you pressed your palms to his sculpted chest.

"You're so fucking hot. It's ridiculous," you said, wild with need. It made him blush down to his collarbones.

You kept your eyes on his as you lifted your hips, then sat back down on him.

"Holy shit," he gasped.

"Yeah?" you checked in.

"Yeah. Keep going," he pleaded.

And you did. You started building an undulating rhythm, Carmy's mouth was open and his brows were furrowed. His blue eyes took you in completely: the bounce of your breasts, the curve of your stomach, the way your torso arched with every stroke. His hands moved upwards, cupping your breasts, thumbing your nipples, unconsciously making you go faster and squeeze your cunt around his cock.

"Please," Carmy keened.

You felt him struggle, he was close.

"Hold on just a little bit," you whispered. "I'll make it good for you, Carmy."

He nodded, red in the face.

You began riding him hard and fast, the bed squeaking underneath you.

"Oh, fuck!" he moaned. "Fuck, shit, Jesus Christ..."

You went faster and faster until the string of curses leaving his lips became completely unintelligible and his body tensed underneath you.

"Come on," you leaned forward, your hair caressing his chest and your lips grazing his cheek. "Let go."

He came with a series of guttural groans, holding you tight as your hips kept moving, rutting into his, chasing the last remnants of pleasure you both could get.

He let out a long exhale and you dismounted, your thighs shaking at the effort.

"You okay?" he asked. He looked slightly embarrassed as he took off the condom and tied it up.

"Just a little sore," you reassured him, settling next to him on the mattress.

His hand caressed your thigh, trying to soothe the ache in some small way - the gesture made you melt inside a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, his face was sweaty and beautiful.

"What do you do for a living?" you asked.

"I'm a chef," Carmy replied simply.

"Huh. I would have guessed tattoo artist," you said honestly, a finger tracing the ink on his forearm.

"I get that," he gave you a soft smile. "You?"

"I work at a bookstore."

"Makes sense," he hummed, eyeing the packed bookshelves in your room and the small piles of books on your bedside table. You stayed in silence for a while, just caressing each other, his fingers tracing pictures on your thighs. "That was amazing," he said.

"Yeah," you agreed, giddy. Your orgasm must have given you courage because you heard yourself saying: "Wanna do it again sometime?"

Carmy turned to look at you, slightly alarmed, like everything that had happened was a dream and he was suddenly awake. For a second, you were scared that he would bolt out of your bed and your apartment.

"I'm not good with relationships," he said in the end.

"Oh! No, I meant the sex bit," you smiled. "I'm not looking for a relationship either."

You weren't. Your life was enough of a fucking mess without some guy that could upend it by cheating on you or knocking you up.

"Hey, no need to say yes. I'm a big girl, I can take no for an answer," you reassured him.

He rolled over and kissed you hard.

"Yes, I want to do this again."

~

Carmy had left without waking you the morning after you fucked, scribbling a note on a napkin: "Early morning at the restaurant. See you soon? C."

You didn't see him for a few days though, not even a glimpse as you crossed each other in the hallway, but you hadn't stopped thinking about him - his hands, his eyes, the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you... You thought about him while you touched yourself late that following night, gasping his name as you came.

It was a relief then to see him about to knock on your door two nights later, takeaway container in hand, as you climbed up the stairs.

"Carmy," you said fondly.

"Oh!" He turned with wide eyes. "I just wanted to- Would you like to come over for some food?"

You beamed. "Did you make it?"

"Sort of," he shrugged. "It's- uh- leftovers from the restaurant. They're good though."

"Well, how can I say no to leftovers?" you teased and followed him inside his apartment.

It was the same floor plan as yours, only mirrored, and with less stuff - a lot less.

"You sure you live here?" you asked, eyeing the empty, stark rooms.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I don't spend much time in it, though."

Carmy warmed up the food and placed it carefully on two plates, it looked like he was making an effort to be casual about it.

"What kind of restaurant do you work in?" you asked as he handed you a plate. "It smells delicious, by the way."

"Uh, fine dining," he said absently, guiding you to the couch. "You like risotto? Didn't think to ask, sorry."

"It's okay," you shrugged, taking a forkful and almost immediately moaning in delight. "Shut the fuck up! You made this?"

Carmy blushed and looked down. "We never do portions this big but I figured you'd be hungry," he said.

"You thought correctly," you said, swaying a little from how good the food was. It made him give you an endeared look. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he insisted.

You kept eating in comfortable silence.

"Truly one of the best meals I've had," you said earnestly once you were finished.

Carmy took your clean plate and his half finished one to the kitchen, coming back to sit beside you.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Fine," you said, half turning in your seat to take a good look at him. "Sales wise it was shit, according to my manager, but one little girl told me I was cool, so..."

He smiled wide. "Did she get anything?"

"Well, she wanted a book on planets and space. Her parents wanted to buy her an encyclopedia of some sort. It was for kids but still..." you scrunched your nose. "It took some convincing but her parents finally caved in."

"I think she was right," he said softly.

"Mmm?"

"I think you're pretty cool," he said, leaning over to kiss you.

It was gentle, measured, lovely.

"And you?" you asked when you parted. "How was your day?"

Something dark clouded over Carmy's face. "Let's not talk about my day," he rasped and then kissed you hard.

It was wild, hungry, needy.

You scooted closer to Carmy, running your fingers through his hair, humming in pleasure as his tongue touched yours. The angle was weird, and so you climbed over the couch, aiming to straddle his hips but settling on his thigh by accident. He bit on your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

"Fuck, Carmy," you blurted out.

His lips started kissing the length of your neck, down your collarbone, over your shirt. You took the hint and took your shirt off, proud that your bra was a little nicer than last time.

"Shit," he mumbled, kissing your breasts, up the cup, and through the lace.

You started grinding on his clothed thigh to relieve the ache between your legs, moaning every few thrusts.

"Is that good?" he asked breathily.

"Yeah," you sighed.

You could feel every seam of your jeans against his muscled thigh. If you weren't so horny, maybe you would feel a little embarrassed about dry humping your neighbor like a fucking teenager but Carmy didn't seem to mind - if anything, he seemed to like it. He held tight to your hips and angled his leg upward so that it would rub against your crotch easier, his eyes marveling at the way your body moved.

"You look so fucking hot," he mumbled into your skin. "Been thinking about you for days... About fucking you again... Making you feel good..."

You had always been a sucker for praise and there was something about Carmy saying nice things on that dirty tone that made you melt.

"Yeah?" you held his face, tilting it so he could look at you. "I've been touching myself thinking of you. Been making myself come thinking of your fingers on my clit and your cock inside me."

"Fuck," he uttered, mouth agape. After a moment of just staring at you, he surged forward and kissed you, mouth open, passionate. The crotch of your jeans was soaked with your arousal, wetting Carmy's slacks too. His hands on your hips urged you to go faster, to get your release.

"Close?" he asked.

You moaned needily into his mouth as a response.

Carmy slid the straps of your bra downwards,

not bothering to open it, and he took one of your nipples in his mouth and the other between his fingers.

"Shit! Fuck!" you cursed, the tightness in your belly snapping while you kept grinding on Carmy's thigh. He left soft kisses on the skin of your chest and caressed your waist while you came down from your high.

"So hot," he mumbled. "So fucking hot."

You giggled, and caressed his face not knowing what to say. You moved to straddle him properly, eager to feel his hardness against your core. He groaned.

"Do you wanna fuck me?" you asked flirtatiously, your palm touching right over his erection.

Carmy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I do," he panted. "Fuck."

You leaned downward, kissing the side of his neck and face. "Where do you keep your condoms?"

He froze.

"Shit."

You sat back, an incredulous look on your face.

"Carmy, really?"

He was flushed with embarrassment. "Even if I had one, it would be expired."

"I'll go get one from my apartment," you said. When you tried to get up, his strong hands kept your hips in place.

"Stay," he pleaded.

"Carmy, you're cute as fuck but no," you declared, rearranging the straps of your bra. "It's just across the hall."

"Wait, wait. I didn't mean we should do it without-" he searched for your gaze. "I meant I don't want you to leave, that's all. We don't have to do anything tonight."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he exhaled, arching his neck to kiss you sweetly.

You giggled. "Next time I come over there better condoms."

"Definitely," he agreed.

You kept making out for a while, his calloused hands tracing pictures on your back, and his tongue touching yours gently. You moved forward a little and pressed on his erection accidentally. He let out a loud groan.

"Sorry," you apologized. "There's something we can do," you said softly, undoing his belt and the buttons of his slacks. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes."

You took his cock in your hand, spreading his precum down the length of it. Your other hand went inside your jeans, gathering arousal to use as lube. Carmy shivered underneath you.

"What do you like?" you asked, pumping his cock slowly, watching Carmy's chest move quicker as you did.

"The tip, with your thumb," he managed. You did as he asked, swiping over his slit, once. He nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah, when I'm close I do that. And just fast. I like it fast."

"Would you let me start slow, though?"

He smiled, running a hand through his messed up hair. "Yeah."

You tortured him a little, to be honest.

You caressed every ridge and vein on his cock, lovingly, slowly, and you kissed his lips through it, swallowing his moans.

"Fuck, it never feels this way," he praised. "So good."

"I'm going to go faster now, the way you like it, okay?"

He nodded desperately. "Please."

You pumped him as fast as you could, watching him become a mess under you, rolling his eyes and shaking.

"Fuck, I'm close," he keened.

You kept on that frantic rhythm with one hand and caressed his head with the other, like he told you. In seconds he was coming all over your hand and forearm, some droplets falling on your belly and chest. You were a goddamn mess but so was Carmy - his eyes unfocused and an absent smile on his face.

"Good?" you asked proudly.

"Tremendous," he chuckled and moved to kiss you holding you tight to his body.

"Careful, I've got- uh-" you giggled, gesturing at the stripes of cum all over your right side.

"Fuck, didn't think about that, wait."

He took his shirt off and wiped you clean with it, kissing you deeply once he was done. He dragged you to lie on the couch with him.

"Sorry about the mess," he apologized.

"Sex is messy," you shrugged.

"Guess I don't have much experience on the subject," Carmy said absently.

"I find it hard to believe with the way you look," you flirted, caressing the muscles of his arm.

"What if- uh- what if I told you you are my first?" he said.

"As in the first person you had sex with?" you confirmed.

He nodded.

"I'd find it even harder to believe," you said, tracing the contours of his face with your finger, the arch of his nose. "But I'd thank you for telling me."

Carmy smiled with relief and kissed you again.

"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.

"Sure."

"When you came thinking of me, what were you doing?"

You blushed and covered your face, the reality of what you had said hitting just now.

"Uh," you hesitated, "well, I was fucking my fingers."

"Would you show me?"

You turned to look at him, his eyes were dark and dead serious.

"Fuck, Carmy," you exhaled. "I thought you were wiped out and this was your idea of pillow talk."

"Oh, I'm wiped the fuck out," he agreed. "It just seems like you aren't," he added with a smile.

You smirked. "Alright."

With your eyes on his, you unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down your legs along with your underwear, both still wet with your arousal. You opened your legs, one dangling over the edge of the couch and the other pressed against Carmy's body. His hand hooked under the bend of your knee, holding you, his thumb drawing circles on your skin. You shivered.

Carmy's eyes followed your hand as it rested on your mound, your middle and ring fingers going easily inside your cunt with how wet you were.

"Fuck," he said, entranced, watching your fingers go in, knuckle by knuckle.

You arched your back and moaned. Every feeling was heightened by having Carmy watch you. You started curling your fingers inside you, brushing your G spot, gasping. Then, you began thrusting your fingers in and out, your hips chasing the feeling too. Before you could get too carried away, Carmy touched your arm, his fingers closing on the wrist that was giving you pleasure.

"Can I?" he asked.

"Yes," you panted, your cunt clenching at the thought of his calloused hands.

You took your fingers out with a wince. His middle finger traced the contour of your clit, making you shiver and giggle nervously.

"Tell me if I'm fucking up," he said shyly.

"Yes." You kissed the side of his face, encouraging him as his index poked at your entrance. "Little lower. Yes."

He had no trouble fitting in one finger with how wet you were. The second one was a tighter fit.

"Slow, slow," you instructed him, humming with pleasure at the stretch, grabbing at his bicep once every knuckle was inside you. "Fuck..."

He curled his fingers inside you, caressing your walls gently. You let out a loud moan when he touched your G spot.

"Oh! Is that-?" he asked. "It feels different."

"Yeah," you whined because he stopped. "Keep going, Carmy, please."

"Right, right, sorry," he chuckled and continued, his long fingers reaching the depths of you, growing more confident and bolder in their movements.

One of your hands was leaving crescent moon imprints on his bicep - your nails digging in his flesh as your pleasure grew.

"My clit, touch my clit, please," you begged and he rushed to press his thumb on it, circling it, your body responding immediately, arching and clenching.

When you opened your eyes, something proud was coloring Carmy's features.

"Keep going, you're doing so good, making me feel so fucking good, Carmy," you mumbled, burying your face in his neck, panting. Your words made him go faster and a little rougher. "Fuck, you're gonna make me come."

Your voice was so whiny you didn't recognize it but you couldn't concentrate on that, not when Carmy was three knuckles deep inside you, hitting your G spot with every stroke, breathing hard against your skin.

"Are you gonna think about this the next time you touch yourself?" he rasped and you unraveled, seeing stars while you rutted against his hand, drowning your moans on his shoulder, grabbing the cushions of his couch like they were the only thing keeping you grounded.

"You okay?" Carmy asked after what felt like a long time, though probably it only was a couple of minutes. Your cunt was still throbbing deliciously around his fingers.

"I'm perfect," you sighed, grabbing his face for a messy kiss.

"Wiped out?" he asked.

"Not sure I'll be able to walk back to my apartment actually," you giggled, eyes half lidded. "You are truly incredible at following instructions," you teased.

"Told you," he played along, kissing your shoulder gently as he took out his fingers. "You can sleep over if you want," he offered.

"Nah, I need to take a shower," you sighed, a little sad that you had to get rid of the smell of Carmy and sex. You grabbed your shirt and underwear from the floor. "I'll sleep here next time," you promised.

"Next time?" Carmy asked, watching you get up and get dressed.

"Yeah, next time," you insisted flirtatiously. "When you buy condoms."

He laughed.

You leaned downward to kiss him sweetly.

"Thank you. It was good, so good," you said earnestly.

"Fuck. You were amazing too," he replied.

You walked to the door. "Good night, Carmy."

"Good night."

~

You were brushing your hair in front of the bathroom mirror, fresh out of the shower, warm and relieved after a long day. An insistent knock on your door made you roll your eyes in irritation.

"Who is it?"

"Carmy!"

Your heart raced a little and you smiled. You opened the door and sure enough, there he was, disheveled and beautiful, wrapped up in his wool coat.

"Hello," you said with a shy smile.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," Carmy said, gesturing vaguely at your wet hair and bathrobe. You rearranged it and he blushed a little - which was terribly endearing considering he had seen your pussy up close not even a week ago.

"You're not interrupting anything," you replied. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out and touched his cheek, red from the cold. "You're freezing. Want to come in? I can make us some tea."

"Yeah, that would be nice," he walked in behind you, toed off his shoes, left his coat on the couch, and followed you inside the kitchen.

"Chamomile?"

"Sure."

You went through the preparations in silence, there was a sigh of relief once he grabbed the mug you were offering and held it between his hands.

"You okay?" you asked, leaning on the counter and taking a sip of your tea. "Bad day?"

"Always," Carmy replied and some part of you knew he wasn't joking.

"I'm sorry," you said softly. "Is it really that bad inside a kitchen?"

"Whatever you're imagining, it's ten times worse," he rasped. "Twenty if you have an asshole for a boss."

"And do you?"

"Oh, yeah. The worst," he took a big gulp of tea - you were almost certain he had burnt his tongue with it.

"Then why do you do it?" you tilted your head, searching for his eyes.

"It's- It's- " he hesitated. "It's everything. It's a way of communicating, it's taking care of other people, it's beautiful and complex..."

"And you love it," you concluded.

"I do. Yeah," Carmy ended with a heavy sigh.

"Wait here," you said, handing him your mug, padding to your bedroom and coming back with a coffee table book. "Here," you exchanged your mug for the hardcover and sat on the counter.

Carmy took it and looked at it carefully. It was a book on fine dining - pages and pages of beautifully plated dishes from different restaurants in Europe.

"This is so cool," he flipped through the pages. "I worked here," he said, beaming.

"Did you learn how to make that dish?" you asked.

"Yeah, must have the recipe somewhere... Thanks for showing me this," he said after a while, taking the book and handing it back to you.

You shook your head. "That's yours."

"I can't take it," Carmy refused.

"Yes, you can," you insisted. "A friend gave it to me as a house warming present and I never even opened it. You would be doing me a favor," when you saw Carmy was about to argue some more you doubled down. "Do I look like I need more books in here?"

He chuckled and shook his head, placing the book on the table, giving in.

He walked towards you. "Thanks. I mean it."

"You're very welcome," you said earnestly when he leaned in to kiss you.

Carmy nuzzled the side of your face, then down your neck.

"You smell amazing," he said softly. "Coconut."

"That's my conditioner," you smiled and held him closer.

"Lavender, rosemary," he mumbled into your collarbone.

"My body wash."

He already had you gasping for breath as he kept kissing you, standing between your legs, pulling you closer by the bend of the knee. He ran his tattooed hands up and down your thighs, his finger tips still a little cold.

"Can I taste you?"

"Yes. Please."

Carmy knelt before you, something dark and hungry coming to life in your belly as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. He opened up your robe and found you bare. Then, he started peppering kisses up and down the insides of your thighs, kneading your ass in his hands, getting you flustered without even touching your cunt.

"Let me know when it's good, alright? Like last time," Carmy said against the skin of your thigh, you could feel his face warming up.

"Yeah. Though you're already doing better than my last two boyfriends, Carm," you said lightly, caressing his hair.

He chuckled against your skin and the whisper of air between your legs made you shiver.

The tip of his tongue caressed your folds, gently, teasing. You hummed softly, closing your eyes. Then, he flattened his tongue, going up your cunt several times, faster and faster, lapping at your entrance, getting a taste of your arousal and humming in response.

"Shit," you managed.

"Mhmm?" he checked in, not letting go of you.

"Yes," you moaned louder. "It's good."

He kissed his way up your clit, rubbing his nose on it before he started licking at it diligently.

"Suck on it, please. Oh, fuck. Fuck," you arched your back. "Can you- Shit, Carmy- Can you put your fingers inside me?" you pleaded.

He let go for a moment, his mouth and your arousal making a lewd sound as he parted. His middle finger traced around your cunt, gathering wetness before going inside you in one swift thrust.

"Yes. Perfect."

"Another?" you looked into Carmy's eyes, he was flushed and giddy.

You nodded and his index finger joined the middle, a smirk curving his wet lips when he made you moan with a simple curl of his fingers.

"You're a menace," you teased and he laughed.

"Keep looking at me," he said, going back between your legs, eyes on you as he continued sucking your clit.

"Fuck, that feels good," you were breathing hard, fingers tugging on Carmy's curls, your bathrobe completely undone. He moaned hard when your pussy clenched on his fingers, the vibration making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're making me feel so good, Carmy," you praised breathlessly, one of your hands squeezing your breast unconsciously. "I'm close." He arched an eyebrow, questioning. "A little faster. Fuck me with your fingers."

He started pumping his fingers in and out of you, fast, while his lips sucked on your clit frantically, wet noises turning you on even more.

"Just like that, just like that," you moaned. "Keep going, please, please, please..."

You kept looking at him, seeing his eyes shut in pleasure when you fluttered around his knuckles. Your orgasm hit you hard and had you screaming and thrusting against his face before you could stop - his strong arms kept you in place.

"Oh, my God," you keened as he kept going, prolonging your orgasm until it was almost too much to bear, senseless praise flowing freely from your lips. "You're so fucking good, Carm. Make me feel so good."

Everything was warm, white and fuzzy.

Carmy stopped his movements abruptly. You felt him groan needily against your cunt, turning his face to bite on the flesh of your thigh. Looking down, you realized he was palming his cock over his slacks. He had come to the sound and the taste of you.

You tugged on his hair to get him up on his feet and kiss him. His lips were red and swollen, and his tongue tasted like you. When you parted, you saw a satisfied and sedated look on his face.

"Never had a guy do that."

"Eat you out?" he asked, disoriented. His hair was a fucking mess.

You ran your hands through his curls lovingly. "No. Make me cum that hard. Enjoy eating me out that much."

"It was hard not to," Carmy replied. "The fucking sounds you make..."

You hid your face in his shoulder, cheeks burning red.

"I'll try to be quiet next time."

"Please don't," he rasped, tilting your head to kiss you hard.

~

[Part 2]

[lunar-years]

don’t want no other shade of blue, but you / no other sadness in the world would do

Part 5/?? of my favorite ships + taylor swift songs | Katniss Everdeen x Peeta Mellark

[saradika]

ahhhh, my sweet fellow j! happy birthday & congrats on the new followers. you always celebrate in such fun ways! 🤍

🖼️ - can i please get a cozy green/brown/orange toned fall moodboard with my sweet benny boy? i’m soooo ready to slip into a new season with that man!

us both being j’s always makes me smile! 💖 and ahh, thank you so much! I hope you’re having a good week so far!

And yes I think benny + fall is such a perfect combo! Those colors are so good, I love how cozy this feels 💕 thanks for celebrating with me!

—

[saradika’s summer soiree]

[sparklyseblos]

caswen moodboard (emails i can’t send inspired) - made sep 2023

thank you to @sarcasticsunshine123 who’s post about caswen being opposite coded inspired this idea 💌

[kakusu-shipping]

Muta Moodboard!!!! Kitty cat cat cat cat kitty cat <3

[pocima]

Cyberspace (2022) + Shirley (2023) by 4s4ki ✧˖°.*:･ﾟ

[shegetsburned]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

Tysm for the ask Ruby!! I had a blast looking at your amazing drawing with Lucille and Bruce that deserves way more fame tbh!

So for myself, I’ve put a lot of work in the mood boards and edits that I’ve done for my characters, and I honestly really like how they turn out with the colors and the pictures;

[x] - [x] - [x]

I also really liked how my fic “no I in team” involving Braise and Mute’s banter turned out, I also really enjoyed writing it!

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights masterlist (completed)

“gonna hold my breath until you're here 'cause i can't breathe without you."

summary:

all the stars aligned, and it was you.

word count: 118k (have fun)

tags/warnings:

tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

authors note: hi again!! its raye back with another coryo series (shocking absolutely no one). i know i said i wanted to stray from the plot so i wanted to see what i could do with tribute!reader that's not just a copy-paste of lucy gray's story (which i eat up every time btw, no tea no shade) so this one is going to be very different from the original and something totally different from LTPF!! i hope you guys love this as much as you loved that one!!

season one

one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve

season two

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two

season three

twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

epilogue.

oneshots

moodboards

black friday

edits

i feel it

playlist // pinterest board

all your thoughts // let’s talk ab it

masterlists // fic recs // nav (please read!)

[goldenhypen]

→ ENHYPEN’S RED FLAGS !! ⚠︎

PAIRING | ot7 x fem!reader

GENRE | crack

WORD COUNT | 1.3k

WARNINGS | mentions of food; reader is referred to as “girl”; i’m pretty sure it’s fine but it is possible i made mistakes w the tenses (i’m still tryna get used to writing more in present tense T-T)

DISCLAIMER | THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY A FORM OF HATE TOWARDS ENHYPEN (pls i love these boys w my entire being how could i) this is a joke so don’t take this too seriously lol

A/N | had the time of my life choosing pics for the moodboard btw they had me out here cackling at 3 am (first red flag: i’m out here losing sleep bc of them !! smh)

이희승 ! HEESEUNG

too handsome… how can you stand to look at that devilishly handsome face without ever passing out due to lack of oxygen in your lungs when he’s always taking your breath away?! also y’all become way too popular; people are always staring at you two (not only heeseung but you too obviously 😏), it’s tiring being so famous yk 🙄

good at everything… it’s lowk invigorating sometimes bc he’s always outdoing you in everything. when you play games, he’s beating you; when you’re having fun at karaoke, he’s always out-singing you or showing off with his fancy riffs and harmonies; when you’re playing sports together, he always has a way of beating you, no matter what the sport. he even manages to do better at the simple task of making ramyeon. and we all know that’s only to list a few. it’s just so tiring having such a perfect bf 😔

박종성 ! JAY

jawline is too sharp… you cup his jaw as you kiss him then suddenly you hurt your hand on his sharp jawline !! it’s not fair that you have to sacrifice your hands every day just because he looks so good.

cooks for everyone… because he cooks so much, you can’t just be hanging out watching him be all hot and sexy as he cooks for everyone all the time !! you’ve had enough of back hugging him, cheek pressed against his firm back muscles (they’re so strong, it hurts your face !!), or smelling and eating all the delicious food,,, you just wanna spend alone time with your man, without the kitchen as the third wheel :’D your bf is just so husband material, and being able to provide for everyone aside from just you and him is just so, totally, very much, rlly unattractive (that’s sarcastic btw i actually couldn’t come up w any negative points to this why would anyone hate that about him-)

심재윤 ! JAKE

always has his tongue hanging outside of his mouth or his teeth sunk into his bottom lip with a smirk… no wonder my man always has ulcers lol jk i have no idea how that actually works,, but you can never kiss him cuz his mouth hurts !! but he’s too hot for you to handle anyways so- sometimes he’ll be all seductive with that smirk after swiftly swiping his tongue over his lips and you have to literally take a moment to compose yourself before he wraps his hands around your waist, biting his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you,, oh my heart :’>

loves his dog too much… sure, loving layla taught him ways on how to love on his own future girl, but you didn’t realize how long it would take him to transfer the title of his most favourite girl from layla to you. you were always competing with a dog and yes, she’s cute but how was this fair?! so let’s just say it took many years of hard work and determination until you finally stole that hard earned title.

박성훈 ! SUNGHOON

doesn’t hang out with enough girls… so he has no experience when it comes to dating you. even before dating you, he was basically a total clutz. not being around girls enough made him feel nervous whenever he was around them due to lack of experience. and so whenever it came to you at first, he was always a nervous wreck and super awkward. and even after dating you, though he is so much better and confident, he still has his slip ups and tends to get super shy whenever you make him flustered (which occurs a lot more often than you’d imagine)! alexa play ‘super shy’ by newjeans 👖

too funny… he randomly comes out with these stupidly funny jokes or comments that make you laugh so hard, it makes your tummy, cheeks and lungs hurt. whenever you tell him you’re gonna die of laughter, you’re not joking.

김선우 ! SUNOO

too sassy… like why does he always have to react with his eye rolls or side eyes whenever you tease him, with that snarky scoff. and then when he’d tease you back, he’d just take the remarks to a whole other level. but occasionally this sass would be used in your favour; whenever a friend would tease you, he’d always get very defensive and have the best comebacks. actually depending on how close you two are with the friend, he once in a while would take the side of your friend and just tease you harder.

perfect figure… he outdoes you all the time. like sunoo give us ladies a chance to shine?? he’s always stealing the spotlight, it’s annoying sometimes !! 🙄 like yes, you (y/n) are always hot and super attractive (self confidence!!! you deserve to love yourself 😌) but for some reason people are always complimenting sunoo’s body instead of yours. but let me let you in on a little secret… it’s only because it’s obvious you’re the one who’s clearly more physically attractive. and who states the obvious these days anyway? hmph 😌

양정원 ! JUNGWON

too loveable… in other words,, there’s nothing to ever (playfully) hate on him with or tease him about !! so boring 👎👎👎 like you just constantly wanna love on him. he can be teasing you about an embarrassing moment of yours that happened just a couple minutes ago, and then you try to think of a comeback but then you take one glimpse into his eyes and suddenly you’re melting on the spot as your mind is wiped of everything you could’ve ever thought up in one quick moment. and suddenly you can only think about the things about him that give you warm, fluffy feelings. HE COULD BE DOING THE BARE MINIMUM AND YOURE FULL HEART EYES FOR HIM he’s just perfect. so unfair and so not fun 👎👎

duality… DOES HE EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT HE SHOULD HAVE YOUR HEART TO LOOK AFTER ???? like what about your well being ??? how about YOUR FEELINGS ???? like you’re constantly being emotionally pulled this way and that cuz one second he’ll be the cutest bf ever with his bread cheeks and fluffy smile when all of a sudden he has a dance to practice and all of a sudden he’s in performance mode, and his duality is just insane !!! is that even the same jungwonie that was with you just a second ago ???? i think not !!! smh

西村 力 ! NI-KI

too tall; doesn’t stop growing… (if he’s a lot taller than you) how are you gonna kiss him?? how is he gonna kiss you?? no but even if he isn’t a lot taller than you now, this boy doesn’t stop growing. you won’t admit it but it’s actually really romantic and hot the way he’d do things to match your heights, such as the other day when he carried you onto the counter, stood between your legs, and pressed his lips against yours in the hottest kiss you’ve ever shared. it’s simply not okay ???

too good of a dancer… outdoes you in every dance game. like riki at least give us a chance??? i mean sometimes he does, but the competitive side of him always wins and he just ends up beating you anyways like always 🙄 also getting to watch him on stage is like seeing a whole other riki. you mostly know him for his goofy personality, but whenever you get to see him perform, he switches that off and enters his alter ego and it has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. so you get the best of both worlds… which obviously isn’t healthy for your heart ???

A/N | it takes only two seconds and a click to make your favourite writers’ day with a reblog. and if you want to take 30 extra seconds of your day to add even just the smallest comment, even just a few nice words of encouragement in your reblog or in the comments, those put the biggest smiles on our faces. let us know how you liked what you just read by telling us and showing us so we can continue putting out content that you can enjoy! thank you! <3

M.LIST | TAGLIST FORM

TAGLIST 1 | @seroriis @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @forjaeyun @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @kookielover29 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @1unxtic @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @wonswondrland @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts

[joeloverture]

fair's fair | pervy!dbf!joel x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: pervy!dbf!joel x pervy!f!reader summary: [no outbreak] joel shoves you in his sweaty pits as a 'joke'. warnings: (18+ mdni) pervy!dbf!joel, age gap (early to mid 20s/38), somewhat mutual pining & sexual tension, joel in a wifebeater and jorts, reader has hair, smacking joel's ass like god intended, degradation, sweaty!joel, musk kink, armpit kink!!!, coming untouched, joel calls reader 'kiddo', 2 spanks, m!masturbation [no use of y/n] word count: 2.1k a/n: in another life, i'd be sorry for this fic. in this life, i am not. as always, a shoutout to the effervescent @lovesickonmybed for moodboard curation + creating this au. love to @seventeenpins for taking a glimpse at this + inspiring me. ty esquire team.... hooooly shit. pls suspend your disbelief if you can't come untouched we're here for a good time not a realistic one. btw you're all pussies for chickening out of the pit fics you 'planned' to write after this esquire photo fell into our laps /j

You awake to a rattling crash on the other side of the wall that you share with your dad’s combination garage/man cave. With an exaggerated groan, you peel yourself out of your creased sheets. Maybe the raccoons that have been terrorizing your garbage cans have finally broken into the garage. You’re still in your pajamas — a low-cut tank top and some bloomers that are entirely too short on you — when you rub the sleep from your eyes and shove your feet into your slippers to investigate. 

The house is quieter than dust so early in the morning. Your dad’s out at work, and the rest of the neighborhood is just beginning to wake up. There’s the tstststststs of the Adler’s sprinkler system and the birds are chirping. In the mudroom, you snatch up a broom and wrap your fist around it. You listen through the paneling of the door for any hissing or scuttling, but hear nothing. You are not looking to get rabies today.

You poke your head out of the door, broom pointed at the ground like a staff. Immediately, you’re blinded by a slice of sunshine cutting through the very much open garage.

You’re about two seconds away from sprinting back inside to call 911 when you see the unkempt, sunkissed hair of none other than Joel Miller.

You set the broom gently back against the wall. Joel’s not a threat – at least not to anything but that traitor between your legs. He’s just your dad’s buddy; drinking buddy, fishing buddy, jack-of-all-trades buddy. He’s also no stranger to those borderline goo-goo eyes you give him. How could you not? He’s just so broad and muscled and God, you swear up and down that you stare more at his ass than anyone has ever stared at yours.

Sometimes, if you’re lucky, he’ll even give you shit about it. Bending over directly in your line of sight at block parties, ‘play wrestling’ with you on the dock by the lake whenever you jokingly call him an old man, or, in one very special instant, giving your ass a smack that sent you into an hours long tizzy.

You deserve to give him shit about it, too.

After all, he’s the one ferreting around in your dad’s garage in the wee hours of the morning. You pad into the garage, footsteps muffled by your slippers as you navigate around your dad’s pickup. You catch a better look at Joel when you pass the truck bed. And, for better or for worse, he’s dressed like a slut.

His ribbed white wifebeater stretches over his wide chest, grass stains scattered along the small of his back. Sweat darkens the hems of his shirt under his armpits, glistening and beading on the back of his neck, too. In true dad fashion, he even has on jorts. He’s bent over your dad’s tool bench, thumbing around an assortment of screwdrivers. His denim-covered ass sticks out. A smile spreads across your face.

You slip around the truck and take soft step after soft step until you’re right behind him. You can’t help but notice a cocktail of his pheromones and B.O. surrounding him. He must’ve been outside for a while now with all of the stains he’s accumulated on his shirt already. You keep your breathing muted so he can’t hear you as you reach out and — smack!

Joel shrieks, shooting upright. His head slams into the shelf overhead and a few bolts go toppling onto the concrete below. He cusses like a sailor as his hand goes up to rub the back of his head, nursing where a lump will probably be in a few hours time. Joel whips around to see you, smothering your giggles behind your hand. “You little shit,” he huffs, still scratching at his head. You don’t miss how his cheeks are firetruck red. “The fuck are ya doin’?”

“Me? The fuck are you doing, Miller? Stomping around my dad’s garage at, like, the asscrack of dawn–”

“Nine in the mornin’ ain’t the asscrack of dawn, sweetcheeks,” Joel says. Then, he holds up a set of pliers. “Mower shit the bed. I’m thinkin’ Sarah stole my pliers to make necklaces, but she hasn’t fessed up yet. Your pops said I could borrow his.” He stretches, giving you a long whiff of his scent. The groan he lets out stirs something in your stomach, much to your chagrin.

“I think the mower is the least of your worries,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “You reek. Shower shit the bed, too?”

“You try doin’ yard work in 90 degree heat, kiddo. See how much you smell like that strawberry raspberry peach whatever-the-fuck soap you’re usin’.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised you don’t see the back of your skull. “Rosemary eucalyptus,” you correct under your breath.

“Hmm, what was that?” Joel asks, tossing the pliers down onto the workbench. “Gotta speak up.”

“Rosemary eucalyptus,” you say. “But I bet you wouldn’t know. What do you use? 18 in 1?”

Joel grunts. “Real funny.” He takes a step closer to you, lips taut with a smirk. “How ‘bout you find out?”

You don’t have time to question what the hell he means – he just cups the back of your head with one of his wide palms and shoves your face directly into his closest sweaty pit. “Mmmmph!” you protest, mouth sealed shut against the thatch of hair that’s spattered across his skin. You hold your breath for as long as you can, but eventually, you’re forced to suck in a breath through your squished nose. His musk, sweet and just as sharp, fills your airways. Your clit all but jerks between your legs in humiliation, drawing a whine out of your throat.

Joel chuckles, ruffling your hair. It’s enough to make your thighs clench. “You’re a little freak, huh?” He presses harder on the back of your head, so much so that you almost get a mouthful of his underarm.

“Youuu dick!” you try to say without opening your mouth too far. It comes out muffled against his sweat-pearled skin. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to push him off of you.

Another wry chuckle comes from above. Joel bends his arm so that his elbow is wrapped around the back of your head, effectively trapping you in his funk. “Come on, huff ‘em. Practically fuckin’ asking for it earlier, all ‘a that mouthin’ off. So now you get a mouthful of my pits. Fair’s fair, kiddo.”

Embarrassment ribbons through your body, the kind that makes you leak into your panties against your will. Still looking for a way out, you squirm against his ironclad hold.

It’s only good for making him land a heavy-hitting slap across your ass. You yelp, a new wave of slick saturating the drenched gusset of your panties. You jump where you are, hips bucking into nothing – for escape or pressure, you’re not entirely sure. “Unless you wanna go over my knee instead?” Your face sears with humiliation.

Tentatively, you snuffle a bit against his pit, biting into your cheeks at his musk. It makes you cough a little bit – he’s been carrying the smell of cutting grass and his own sweat all morning.

“Yeah, thought so. But you can do better than that, sweetcheeks. I said huff, not fake an asthma attack.” You whimper, this time sucking in a longer breath. Here he is, holding you down, secure against his pit as you're left with no other option than to take what he gives you, when he gives it to you. All you can smell, feel, touch is just Joel, Joel, Joel. It makes you lightheaded.

Your clit is practically a kickdrum between your thighs, pulsing and doing more work than your head. You try to angle yourself so that you can rub your clit against Joel’s leg, but he puts a stop to that real quick. “Gettin’ all wound up just from being where ya belong, your pretty little face in my pit?” You mewl, reaching for Joel’s sides. You bunch your fists in the fabric of his wifebeater, and he allows it.

“Since you’re so eager to complain about it, how ‘bout you clean me up, huh?” He nudges his pit against your face again, and, confusedly, you furrow your brows. You can’t see much of him, but you do see the edge of his mouth tip up in satisfaction. “You got rocks for brains? Lick, kiddo.”

Hesitance drives the soft kitten lick of your tongue, swiping up and down across a very small portion of his pit. He loosens up on his grip on you, giving you the slightest bit more reign. You try to tell yourself that you’re scared of what he might do if you disappoint him, but hell if you don’t want this as much as he does, tongue, nose, face buried in his pits. Some sort of ultimate form of worship between the two of you.

You lave your tongue across his pit, eyes fluttering with each stroke. You swirl it in the crease of his arm, sucking his goddamn hairs clean with the fervor you’ve picked up. Enthused now, you bob your head up and down. Your clit responds, throbbing with a heartbeat of its own.

You’re panting, inhaling and exhaling him, lapping up his musk like a fucking dog, gone from reluctant to eager. Your clit twitches faster and faster, and you swear that arousal must be tacky on the insides of your thighs, leaking through your panties all over the front of your bloomers, but you can’t do anything about it. You can’t even grind against Joel – you can only slurp against his armpit, something like desperation having replaced all of your previous mortification from when he’d shoved you there in the first place.

You’re so preoccupied with pleasing him that you don’t even notice the thumping of your clit, picking up speed and pressure. Your body seizes in between your greedy little licks. You feel yourself weaken before you stiffen.

And maybe it’s the way Joel keeps groaning with each movement of your tongue. It could be how he exhales, “Kiddo,” in a raspy voice, both demeaning and endearing all at once. But in the end, it’s how he says, “Mmmm, such a good goddamn tongue. Bet it’d feel so good on my cock,” that breaks the dam between your legs.

You shudder, coming completely undone with little moans and whimpers in Joel’s arms without so much as a hand on your clit, just your face smothered in his pit. Drool runs down your lips and across your chin as you jerk and weaken in his grasp. If you weren’t so underwater, so far gone, you’d be able to hear him saying, “Fuck – whoa, whoa, whoa,” trying to stop you from falling on your ass in the middle of the garage. His hands card across your sides as he props you up against the workbench. Your vision blackens at the edges from the intensity of your orgasm, and you’re still coming, at least you think you are, when you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re wide-eyed, tears brimming at your waterline, incapacitated in a way that you didn’t know you could be.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you finally fully come to, slumped over the workbench, still half-clinging to Joel. “Fuck.”

Joel looks stunned, looking you up and down as if he can’t get enough of you. His eyes land right between your thighs, where, sure enough, you’ve ruined your bloomers. You still feel like deadweight, and you struggle to stand upright. You’re not sure you’ve ever come so hard even with someone’s hands all over your. Joel’s glistening with even more sweat, and it’s impossible to miss the glaring bulge in his shorts. He clears his throat after a minute. “Oughta go get cleaned up before your daddy gets back for his lunch break, kiddo.”

You stumble upright, drenched in sweat yourself now, Joel’s lingering scent still pervading every breath you take. “Y-yeah,” you manage, nodding. You feel out of your own body, stumbling towards the door. You’re so wet that you can feel it with every goddamn step. Fuck Joel Miller, cocky piece of sh–

You’re immediately returned to your own body by the resounding swat Joel lands on your ass. You jump, shooting a glare over your shoulder. He puts his hands up, pleading innocence.

You’re not surprised when you crawl out of your shower, smelling of rosemary eucalyptus and dripping water all over the floor, only to see Joel’s mower abandoned in the middle of his yard. Even worse, you aren’t surprised in the slightest when you squint through your bedroom window, Joel sprawled out across his bed, hips bucking in-time with his fist before catching your eye and spraying ropes of cum all over his abdomen.

You mouth at him through the window with a taunting little wink, Clean yourself up this time.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you're doing a sexy concept.

AN: think of this as a comeback stage! so bf! dreamies are watching from the backstage. Also I did crop Minnie and Winter for the photo moodboard, sorry. (secret relationship btw)

Mark Lee

Mark will be surprise that you were doing a sexy concept that he stood up from his seat so fast that the plastic chair fell. Mark's brain had a short-circuit moment because even though you were wearing a sleeveless top and slacks, the choreography was so sexy that the Dreamies watched him clear his throat a hundred times throughout your stage. When you two met backstage, he couldn't utter a word to you, still in the state of shock because of your performance.

Huang Renjun

Renjun was surprised when you two met backstage and you're wearing a short dress, he can see that you would try to pull it down so that your safety shorts wouldn't be seen. He looks at you with concern especially because it's his first time seeing you do a sexy concept. He asked you if you're okay with it and you only smile at him, assuring him that you're okay with the concept but your dress is what you're uncomfortable about. Renjun could only give you encouraging words before you leave for the recording.

Lee Jeno

Jeno watches you from the backstage with that 'dad stance' (you know, standing with his hands on his hips lol) but everyone can see the proud smile on his face as he watches your comeback stage. He knows that you're doing a sexy concept and you were excited about it! That's why your boyfriend is also excited for you. His eyes never left you and he looks so lovestruck especially during your solo parts. When you two met backstage, he gives you a hug and tells you that you look sexy back there!

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan cannot do anything but to sulk as he watch your comeback stage. You were too pretty and sexy! And the choreography was something else, that he could only scream when the part was too sensual. He wanted to gatekeep you so bad and even convinced the Dreamies to not look at you. (They told him that he's being dramatic.) So when you two met backstage, you weren't able to say hi because Haechan covered you quickly with his padded jacket.

Na Jaemin

"That's my girl!" Jaemin shouts the moment you two met backstage. You only raised at eyebrow because of how loud your boyfriend was, he will tease you nonstop because it's your first time doing a sexy concept. Even copying your moves and part, making you embarrassed with his antics. At the end, Jaemin asked if you two can film a dance challenge for your comeback because he loves the choreo so much.

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would probably do that soccer dad type of clap when your performance was finished. He would even scream when they feature you as the ending fairy, pointing you and telling everyone that your his girlfriend. That's why when you visited their room, he'll clap so loud that you'll be embarrassed. He'll hype you nonstop and telling you that you did great with your comeback stage! You were in relief because weeks earlier you started having doubt about whether you can pull the sexy concept or not, and with your boyfriend's assuring words, you had nothing to worry about.

Park Jisung

Jisung would be flustered when he discovered that your concept was sexy. The streetwear outfits were deceiving. So when he was watching your comeback stage, he looks like a lost chick with the eyes wide and open mouth, he would cover it with his hands from time to time until your performance is finished. When you two met, you asked for his thoughts, but you saw how he's so flustered with your performance! In the end, he told you that the choreography was great, like genuinely great in his opinion.

[tofupixel]

Do you have any advice on how to get into pixeling larger scenes, or how you go about the process? I dabble in pixel art occasionally and am interested in pursuing it more, but whenever I try large scenes I always tend to fall flat

Love your art, by the way!

thank you!

my first step i always go get a ton of references. i think if you are struggling with pixel scenes it can help you to get some pixel art references too. for example if you arent sure how to render a tree, look it up on pixeljoint hall of fame im sure you can find something that inspires you.

this is the moodboard for my current knight crowley/statue azi piece im working on (software is called pureref btw. i have a dedicated monitor just for this but you can do transparency and overlay it if you lack space)

i think this is mostly preference but i always begin working with large areas of value/colour rather than an actual line sketch

i usually only save the wip process if im sending it to clients, so here is an example of how i worked through a commission

at this point im just going for the vibes. colour is more important and shape/size and having random pixels everywhere doesnt matter cos u can just remove them later !!

its kind of an anomaly/doomsday thing so i wanted the red sky and chaos all over

i work really quickly at this point and try for energy

just beginning to work my way through and detail things up. im still changing things around and adding more stuff in different places. its digital art so you can change things however you like, just keep moving forward

final ver sent to client after some revisions. pixel art is 99% rendering so you just need to keep pushing forward

i also want to say i did like 3+ years of sporadic studies. mostly studio ghibli and shishkin. if you have someone who inspires you you can study their work and figure out how they do it.

it cant be overstated how many of these i have done lol and im still not even close to where i want to be (its a process)

anyway sorry for the long post but you really should go for it. ive done the same concept like 3 times over my career (so far) cos i enjoyed it and want to come back to it now that im a little better. so u dont have to make it perfect the first time but doing it is better than not doing it!

sorry for the long post but i kinda got carried away anyway lmk if u want more specific tips i like talking about pixel art :--3 GL with your art

[starkeyvhs]

kill bill

PAIRING: rafe cameron x dark!fem!kook!reader

SUMMARY: your ex-boyfriend has a new girlfriend, so you take matters in your own hands.

WORD COUNT: ~6k

WARNINGS: MAJOR DARK CONTENT WARNING! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! murder; blood; gore; reader is extremely possessive over rafe, gaslights him, short tempered, toxic, selfish, gets jealous very easily, physically unable to grieve, very very sick and twisted; they have an extremely toxic relationship; mentions of two ocs; suggestive content (absolutely no smut), reader likes to mark rafe; consumption of alcohol, hardcore drugs and cigarettes; minimal usage of nicknames like babe and baby; reader often exercises her ownership over rafe vocally; rafe chokes reader (but not so much she passes out), locks her in a room; minimal swearing; like one mention of y/n (I tried to avoid it as much as I could); detailed descriptions of a funeral; grieving; I always beta read my fics but if you find any minor grammatical/spelling error please ignore :) + let me know if you think I missed anything (I crossed checked everything twice)

EDITH SPEAKS: I hardcore believe we need more sick and twisted reader instead of the usual sweetheart one (nothing wrong with that, btw!) because it’s so much fun writing a complex female character. I had the time of my life writing this, and I hope you love reading this too <3 please please heed all warnings, this fic is really really dark, and I wouldn’t want anyone to be triggered by the content in any way (the warnings are there for a reason!) please reblog if you liked reading this, and feedback is always appreciated 🥀 massive thank you to my baes raye and zya who heard my brainrot for this fic all the damn time <3 (I love having fic writers besties 🥰)

masterlist / join my taglist / requests / moodboard from my old blog

It’s dark.

For some reason, it feels darker than usual.

Maybe because it’s a new moon, the indigo sky is completely devoid of the pale moonlight, which is usually the source of light at night.

Or maybe, the reason for it feeling darker isn’t literal.

Maybe it’s metaphorical.

Your gaze drops down to your hand, your gloved fingertips digging into the engravings on the handle of the knife, the tips of the nails settling between the grooves. The tip of your index finger is trapped in a curvy groove, your finger repetitively moving up and down, up and down, up and down through the curve.

You take a step back, the sound of the rubble crunching under your feet with a certain wetness echoes in the dark alleyway.

With your free hand, you lift up the hem of your dress, revealing the cover of the knife strapped to your upper thigh by a garter. The length of the dress hides the garter at all times, keeping it completely out of view. You slowly slide the knife back into its covering, letting it still in place, and allowing the dress to cover your thigh back again.

Your gaze begins to trail along your arm, the streaks of blood staining your skin red, matching the deep red of your dress. You flex your fingers under the single streak of street light entering the alleyway, illuminating the dried blood rubbed on your fingertips and knuckles.

Slowly, you let your eyesight travel down more and more, until you’re looking down at your feet.

Your feet stand in a dark pool of blood, almost seeming black in the darkness of the eerie alleyway. With the way only a single street light is responsible for the only light source, it almost seems like a scene from a black and white horror movie.

The metallic smell of blood fills up your nostrils entirely as you take another step back, gently kicking the foot in your way to the side.

“Oh poor Amber…” You mumble softly, taking a step closer to her face and bending down to her level, watching her soulless eyes gazing up at the bricked wall behind you. Her soft, pearly white slip satin dress is flushed with a deep burgundy, the slit through which your knife pierced her porcelain like skin is wide and open, right above her chest.

Your gloved fingertips trail over her cheekbone, so pale and so cold, as you feel the lifelessness under your skin. It’s almost pitiful if you think about it: the way poor Amber could’ve avoided all of this only if she knew to keep her hands off what you own.

She wouldn’t have to experience such a horrible end to her life, stabbed in a hidden alleyway, her dainty arms spread on her sides, her lifeless fingers grasping onto the last bit of memories of his touches, only if she knew better than to attempt to exercise her ownership over something clearly taken by you.

Oh well, you slowly get up from your crouched position, sparing a last glance at her body lying in the pool of her own blood.

Maybe it feels darker than usual because your own hands picked up a knife and drove it straight through the girl’s heart.

Do you regret it?

Absolutely the fuck not.

And why would you, if it means you get to have Rafe Cameron back again?

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

SEVEN MONTHS AGO

The strobe lights flash all around the otherwise dark party mansion, the bass of the loud music thumping in your eardrums. The party is as crowded as it can be, sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other tantalizingly on the dance floor, causing the all too familiar smell of sweat mixed in with weed, alcohol and what not to settle heavily in the building.

There’s so much happening around you, the dance floor if fully occupied, there’s a game of beer pong being played over-enthusiastically at one end, a corner table surrounded by mostly boys busy with their hardcore drugs at another end, the bar right behind you with all the alcohol you can ever need; yet your hardened gaze is fixed on Rafe, and the girl he’s having a conversation with a few feet away from you.

“I’ll be back in a moment, babe,” He had mumbled against your hair, giving your thigh a firm pat before leaving his place next to you at the bar counter. You were confused for a moment as to where he was going suddenly, but then you saw him approach a girl completely unknown to you, give her a hug and get involved in a conversation.

Now, over ten minutes have passed and he still hasn’t left her side. You can’t hear them talk due to the loud music, but you can watch them laugh, the conversation so engaging it’s like they both have forgotten a world outside them exists too.

Your hand resting on your thigh is beginning to press harder against your flesh, your fingers digging into your skin, causing a sharp pain to spread on your skin, but you do nothing to reduce it. Your jaw clenches tightly at the sight of Rafe and the girl, streaks of possessiveness flaring up in every nook and cranny of your soul.

But the moment the girl’s fingers reach out to nudge his arm, you know you have had more than enough.

In a swift movement, you get up from your occupied barstool and make your way over to Rafe.

As you approach Rafe, you reach your hand out for his arm, letting your fingers curl around his bicep to grab his attention. The girl talking to him suddenly stops speaking as she spots you right next to him, and the way your hand is around his arm, your fingers digging into his skin.

“Oh hey babe,” Rafe says, very discreetly trying to get you to loosen his grip on him by moving his arm subtly, but of course, you’re too busy glaring at the girl to even realize the borderline iron tight grip you have on his bicep.

Rafe senses the tension in you — it’s not hard to miss the way it’s oozing off you.

“Oh uh,” he clears his throat, gesturing to the girl. “This is Keely, she moved away two years ago but now she’s visiting the island for–”

“Yeah I don’t care,” you swiftly cut him off, giving his arm a sharp tug and dragging him away from Keely. Before Rafe can even say anything to Keely, you are tugging him away from the crowd, away from the party, leading him up the stairs of the party mansion.

“Where… babe what are you doing?” Rafe asks, his tone incredulous as he tries his best to pry your hands off his arm, but your grip only seems to be getting tighter by the second. He can catch a glimpse of his arm, and the way his skin has started to pinken under your bruising grip.

You don’t say anything, just lead him up the stairs silently. You reach the hallway on the second floor, and the first door you open is an empty bedroom. You push Rafe inside and close the door behind you two, locking it.

“Babe what are you–” Rafe tries to speak, but with another nudge to his shoulders the back of his legs stumble against the edge of the bed and he flops on his back onto the mattress.

You are quick to follow as you get on top of him and sit in his lap, straddling his waist. You look down at him, your palms laying flat against his chest.

Without any words, you dip down and capture his lips in a searing kiss, your lips moving with a fiery fervor against his. Rafe doesn’t even have a moment to process what’s going on, but his body naturally responds to you, his hands coming to grip onto your hips and squeezing them tightly.

“Fuck baby…” he murmurs hoarsely as your lips leave his to trail over his jawline and finding the side of his neck. A sharp gasp escapes his mouth as your teeth suddenly sink into his flesh, your tongue running over the mark to soothe the burning sensation.

Instinctively, Rafe’s grip tightens on your hips, his eyes squeezing close. Your movements are unrelentless, your teeth biting down into whatever patch of skin of his neck you can succumb onto, your tongue running over the marks, and your lips sucking on the skin.

“You’re mine you hear me?” Comes out your voice in a whisper against his skin as you begin to travel over to the other side of his neck, not stopping for even a second to give him a break.

“Yeah yeah I’m yours I’m–” another sharp gasp leaves his lips as your lips find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck right above his pulse point and suck on it. He can feel the bruises beginning to form, bruises so deep he knows they won’t fade soon.

He knows you like to leave marks on him. Since you and him started dating, he was often seen with a bruise or two on the side of his neck, or peeking from under the collar of his shirt on his collarbone. They were always small, and never too dark.

But today? Today he feels you aren’t doing to let a single inch of his skin bare from your marks.

One of your hands slips into his hair and you pull his head back, baring his slender throat to you. You lean down and press your lips to his throat, kissing and sucking on the skin the same way you did to the sides of his neck.

Rafe’s blunt fingertips begin to dig into your hips, his lips parted as heavy exhales escape him.

“Is… is this about Keely?” He breathes, feeling your fingers slightly tighten in his hair, causing him to let out a barely audible whine.

“What if it is?” You mumble against his skin, biting down on his throat which elicits a sharp gasp from him. He writhes a little under you, as if trying to escape you, but you let your full weight fall on Rafe’s waist, making it impossible for him to move.

“Baby she’s…” he pants. “She’s just an old friend… nothing else…”

Your hand on his chest reaches for the top button of his shirt and your fingers pop it open, revealing more skin to you. Your mouth is quick to follow suit, your lips attacking the newly visible skin.

“She needs to know you’re mine,” you mutter against his skin, your voice lowering an octave. “Who the fuck–” you bite down on the skin right under the hollow of his throat, emphasizing your words, causing Rafe’s upper body to buck up involuntarily, “–does she think she is huh? Touching my man that way?”

“T…touching…?” Rafe breathes. “She didn’t… she never touched me–”

“She did,” Your voice is sharp, leaving no room for any argument. Your mouth goes back to its work, your fingers popping the second button open to bare you more skin of his to mark.

“You’re mine, Rafe,” you mutter against his skin, “always.”

Rafe’s breathing speeds up more — if that’s even possible, as he feels the next buttons of his shirt getting unbuttoned too.

“Say it,” comes out your voice, sharp and low. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m–” he breathes, “I’m all yours baby, all yours… always and forever…”

You let your lips curl up into a faint smirk, the movements of your mouth slightly slowing down as you only kiss along the skin of his chest. At the slowing of your pace, Rafe’s fingers begin to loosen their grip on your hips, his short bursts of breathing slowly coming under control.

You slowly lift your head up and sit up in his lap, your fingers slipping out of his hair. You gently trace your fingertips over the sides of his neck, feeling the red, swollen bruises forming on his skin, which you know will only become more pronounced as the time passes. Your fingertips trail down to his chest, feeling the indents in his skin from the bruises and the bite marks. Something about feeling the bruises on his neck and not just seeing them begins to calm down the stoking fire of possessiveness on you.

It’s like you’ve branded him as yours.

“You look so perfect like this baby…” You coo softly, the gentle tracing of your fingertips a sharp contrast to just a few seconds ago when your teeth were on the verge of breaking through his skin. “So beautiful, so perfect, so mine…”

Rafe watches you through half hooded eyes, his breath only beginning to come under his control. He can feel his chest heaving from his heavy breathing and your touch over it, a sharp tingling sensation spreading over his skin wherever your mouth had been.

He can see it; the look of satisfaction in your eyes as if you’ve won a big prize. Your eyes rake over him, taking in all the bruises that stand out against his light skin.

“This… this should be enough to show her that you aren’t up for grabs,” you mumble to yourself quietly, still tracing over the marks and bruises over him.

Rafe shudders under the feeling of your fingertips tracing over his bruises, the skin reddened and getting more and more sensitive with each touch and nip of the air.

“You haven’t got anything to worry about baby…” he says slowly, almost cautiously. “I belong to you, forever,”

Your piercing eyes find his, the eye contact so strong it sends a chill down his spine.

“Yeah, yeah you are,” you mumble softly, before leaning down to let your lips connect to his skin again.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

FIVE MONTHS AGO

Rafe stands next to the dining table with Wheezie and Sarah as Ward and Rose greet their guests for the night, their noises of greetings and laughter floating over to the three siblings in the dining room. The noise of their chatter only increases as the group approaches the dining table, spotting the three Cameron kids waiting for them.

Next to Ward and Rose are Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, with their daughter Amber. Ward and Mr. Lawrence are the bestest of friends; business wise and casual wise. Their businesses work hand in hand, and their families meet often for dinners and night outs.

Rose politely guides everyone to the dining table and everyone takes a seat, Amber’s seat being right next to Rafe’s.

“Hey Rafe,” she smiles, adjusting in her seat as she takes her purse off and hangs it on the back of her chair.

“Hey,” he says back, his voice quiet as he watches the food being served on the table.

He can feel Amber’s gaze on him; he has always had a hunch that she likes him with the way she looks away with a subtle blush on her cheeks when he catches her staring. Or with how she’s always talking so sweetly to him.

Or maybe his hunch is wrong.

Just like he’s the Kook prince, she’s the Kook princess. She’s known for being an absolute sweetheart, kind to anyone and everyone she meets. Even though she already has millions attached to her name, she’s volunteering at elderly homes, soup kitchens, beach clean ups and what not. She donates to charities whenever she can, and always sponsored them back in their days at the Kook Academy.

Rafe is quiet as the food is served, his plate kept in front of him. Everyone on the table is immersed in chatter, Amber distracted by Sarah and Wheezie, but he’s silent.

He takes small bites of the chicken he’s served, nibbling on the end of his fork as his mind goes to you, and the horrible, horrible fight you both had.

“It’s getting out of hand, y/n! You’re always on my heels, never letting me breathe!” Rafe snaps, trying to create as much distance between you and him.

Your eyes widen, an almost crazy look in them as you walk closer to him. “‘never letting me breathe’ is that so? I care about you Rafe! I love you!” You retort, attempting to reach out for his hand but he pulls back before you can touch him in any sort of way.

Your touch doesn’t feel loving, it feels like a burn to his skin.

“If you loved me, you would believe me that I was out with my friends, not with some girls! You think any girl will approach me when I’ve got these–” he frantically gestures to the marks all over his neck, “–all over my neck? Huh?”

“I leave those marks cause you’re mine!” Your voice comes out as strong, sharp yells now, echoing in the hallway of your house.

“Stop- stop saying that shit! I’m not yours! I don’t want to be yours anymore! You don’t fucking own me!” Rafe spits.

Now, he shouldn’t have said that.

You take another step closer to him, causing his back to hit against a door of a room in the hallway, completely caged by the door behind him and you in front of him.

He can see the look on your face, the way your eye is almost twitching, the way you let out soft pants; he has pissed you off.

“Yes I do,” your voice comes out low, and cold. “Yes, I own you, always and forever.”

“No you don’t!” Rafe snaps back. One of his hands reaches back for the door knob, his fingers curling around the cool metal. “I’m done with this shit! I’m done with you!”

You inch even closer to him, your chest almost touching his, leaving barely any space between you two.

“You think you can let me go this easily, huh?” You sneer, looking him dead in the eye.

Rafe’s hand on the door knob only tightens further, his knuckles almost turning white in the process. He’s done with this, he’s done being controlled by you, done letting you exercise ownership over him, and he’s done being in this loveless relationship.

In a swift movement, Rafe’s free hand comes to wrap around your throat, causing your eyes to widen and your lips to part, a choked gasp escaping you. Your hands reach for his fingers gripping your throat so harshly, feebly attempting to pry his fingers off. But his hold is strong, so strong.

You feel the amount of air in your lungs lessening with each passing second, your movements becoming weaker as the moments pass. You try to speak, anything, try to kick him off, but your body is just getting weaker.

Your tear rimmed eyes meet Rafe’s, whose own cheeks begin to streak with the tears that start to fall down. They aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears of frustration, because he’s done with this shit.

“I’m done with you, you hear me?” He mutters through his tears, his voice frustrated and shaky. “Done with this entire thing.”

You try to fight back, to argue, to do anything, but nothing works. Rafe’s hand on the door knob pulls the knob down, opening the door. It reveals the store room, and in a single movement, he pushes you inside, a choked gasp leaving you, and he quickly shuts the door and turns the lock.

“Open the fucking door!” Come out your muffled yells from inside, and he can hear you sputtering, trying to catch your breath after being at a loss of it for the past minute.

Your hands bang against the wooden door, the sound loud in the empty hallway.

Rafe steps back from the door, hearing the loud banging on the door, the sound thumping in his ears along with his loud heartbeat.

For a moment, it seems like everything goes silent except the loud banging in his ear, pulsating throughout every nerve in his brain.

This is the first time he ever did anything to defy you, defy your so-called “love” for him.

And god, does he feel… good. Strong. He never knew he would be able to stand up against you. But now, he has you locked in the store room of your own home.

It feels exhilarating.

“Open the fucking door Rafe!” Your voice comes from inside the store room again, zapping Rafe out of his thoughts. He swallows harshly, his arms frozen on his sides as he slowly takes another step back.

With the way you’re banging at the door and are yelling, he can tell you’re getting impatient.

But he’s not going to do anything about it.

He’s done getting pushed around by you.

Taking another step back, he begins to back out of the hallway, ignoring your constant muffled yelling and banging at the door. He can hear you rattling the lock, desperately trying to escape the store room.

He tries his best to push away the sounds of you and your attempts to escape out of his mind as he takes shaky steps back from the hallway, slowly and slowly inching away from you. He takes a deep breath, and finally, turns around, his back to the store room, and he makes his way out of the hallway, approaching the main door of your home.

Without thinking twice, he opens the door and steps out, letting the door slam shut behind him, his mind pushing away the distant voice of yours yelling at him to open the door.

“Rafe? Rafe are you okay?”

Rafe snaps out of his thoughts and looks up from his plate to his side, seeing Amber gently shaking his shoulder. He looks back down to his plate and see he barely ate any of it, just nibbled on the piece of chicken, the veggies lying untouched.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, gently moving his shoulder which causes Amber’s hand to fall back to her side. “Yeah yeah I’m good uh… excuse me,” he politely excuses himself and gets up from his chair, leaving the dining table. Sarah and Wheezie glance at him with concern, but Rose and Ward don’t really seem to give this matter much light.

Amber watches Rafe leave the dining room, adjusting his turtle neck once as he makes his way out to the balcony, closing the wooden door behind himself.

Her eyes remain fixed on the path which Rafe had just followed, every cell of her body itching to follow him.

Just a few seconds later, she excuses herself from the table too and makes her way to the closed door of the balcony.

As the door opens and she steps out, Rafe diverts his attention to the door, a cigarette smoking away in his hand.

“Hey,” Amber says softly, giving him a gentle smile as she lets the door knob slip from her hand, the door closing with a gentle click. She makes her way over to Rafe, standing next to him in front of the balcony railing, her eyes fixing on the cigarette slotted between his fingers.

“Hey,” Rafe says back looking back out at the view from the balcony. His free hand comes to sneak under the turtle neck, scratching the side of his neck. “God this is itchy,” he mumbles under his breath, slightly frustrated.

“It’s too hot for a turtle neck anyway,” Amber says, her brows furrowed. “It must be irritating your skin,”

“Yeah,” Rafe mutters, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and letting out a plume of smoke. He knows better than to take the turtle neck off though, the thought of revealing the dark bruises left by you causes a small shudder to go down his spine — knowing Amber will be extremely concerned and will press on the matter.

Even then, his fingers reach out to itch under the turtle neck again, the material really irritating his skin. He pushes the fabric aside to grant him more skin to itch, but just as he does that, Amber catches the sight of the bruises marked on his skin; and these ones just so happen to be the darkest ones he has.

“Oh my god,” her soft voice comes out laced with concern as she steps closer to him, her fingers wanting to reach out to soothe his skin with her gentle touch. “What happened are you okay? That looks really bad,”

Rafe looks down at her, her frame almost comically smaller than his. He can see the concern etched on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips downturned in a frown.

“I’m… I’m fine,” he mutters, focusing back out at the view from the balcony, taking another hit of his cigarette.

“Are you sure? Cause that looks really bad Rafe,” she murmurs, gently placing a hand on his arm, looking up at him.

The moment she touches her arm, he tenses for a fraction of second, but then immediately relaxes. There is something about her touch that you don’t have; that tenderness and the warmth that has always been missing from your touch. And her voice, it’s gentle. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you talk to him in such a gentle voice.

“Did someone beat you up?” She asks, her voice soft.

Beat him up? Oh, he wishes.

His mind goes back to you, the way he locked you in the store room. He knows there’s a window in the room, and knowing you, he also knows you definitely escaped from that window.

“No, someone didn’t beat me up,” He says back, his voice losing any edge it may have, taking a completely tender tone. There’s something so soothing about the way she’s talking to him, and it just makes him want to open up to him about anything and everything.

“Someone didn’t beat you up? Then how did you get them?” She asks. God, he thinks. Her concern, her gentleness, her touch… He’s losing himself in it, a little too quickly.

Maybe it’s because he’s been deprived of this gentleness for way too long.

“You won’t believe me if I told you the answer,” he says, his gaze looking down at her to meet her eyes.

“You’re concerning me Rafe, really,” she mutters, her fingers still wrapped around his arm. And Rafe doesn’t want her to let go.

He takes another drag of the cigarette, letting the smoke roll off his lips.

“It’s my girlfriend– but, but I ended things with her today,” he mutters.

He gauges her reaction; her widened eyes, her lips parting twice to say something but no words coming out.

She knows about his girlfriend, well, everyone does, but he didn’t know about this.

“She did this to you?” Amber mutters incredulously. “That’s… that’s kind of crazy,”

“Kind of?” Rafe says amusedly. “It’s very crazy. I was…” he takes a deep breath, looking up from her and back out at the scenery. “I was suffocated with her. I was never able to express myself. She was extremely possessive, always wanting to… mark me as hers a certain way. It was hard to leave her but I did it, I finally did it today,”

Amber’s facial expressions contort to one of slightly relaxed, though the concern is still evident.

“Wow,” she mutters. “I’m very glad you were able to break things off with her, you don’t deserve to be treated this way Rafe, no one does,”

He turns back down to look at her, his eyes sinking into hers. They’re so warm and beautiful, a kind blue just like his. There’s gentleness in her words and the way she’s still holding onto his arm.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, “that… that means a lot to me you know? I’m… I’m just glad I was able to escape her,”

“Yeah,” she says softly, her fingers rubbing small circles on his forearm. It seems more or less like an instinctive movement, as if this is how she always likes to soothe someone.

And damn, is he starved for some gentle loving just like this.

A silence falls over them, Rafe’s eyes not flickering away from hers. She’s looking up at him, her doe eyes wide but extremely comforting, her gentle rubbing on his arm relaxing him to an infinite extent.

As if a gravitation pull exerts it’s force on him, he finds himself leaning closer to her, his eyes now training down over her lips. They’re so soft looking, so full, and he has a very strong urge to taste them.

Amber doesn’t pull back, she’s watching him lean closer, her own body reacting and leaning closer to him. Midway, Rafe’s lips are just a hair’s breadth from hers, and he takes the leap, pressing his lips to hers.

For a moment, no one moves, their lips joined in a gentle press. But then, Amber takes the initiative, gently moving her lips against his.

Rafe responds, his hand which isn’t holding the cigarette coming to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking the skin. Her hands reach up to wrap around his neck, the kiss soft, slow and incredibly tender.

Rafe gently pulls back, creating just the slightest distance between him and her. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he soaks in the moment.

No words are exchanged between them, but he knows they both feel a mutual understanding.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

PRESENT

The rain begins to pour down harder, the drops of water on the grassy lawn gleaming under the occasional strike of lightning. Black umbrellas matching the black outfits are put up by almost everyone, covering everyone’s head by the shelter.

Except one.

Rafe is on his knees right next to the coffin, his fingers gripping the edge of it so tightly his knuckles are beginning to turn white. His head bows down to rest on the edge in between his hands, quiet sobs erupting out of his throat. The raindrops trail over his clothes, making him sopping wet, but he doesn’t care – even when he’s been politely asked to get under an umbrella to cover himself.

Everyone knew well about Rafe’s and Amber’s relationship. God, they loved them. Rafe, the Kook prince, and Amber, the Kook princess. Their fathers; bestest of friends. It’s like people could imagine them getting married even when they weren’t of age. The children of the most powerful men of Outer Banks were meant to take over the island together.

But the dreams were shattered like frail glass when Amber’s death was announced. And it wasn’t some untimely death — it was a murder. A clear gash was present at her chest right where she was stabbed.

Police investigations were started, Rafe paid an incessant amount of money to get the best of detectives on the case, but the murderer was good.

Too damn good.

The murderer didn’t leave a single trace of their presence. They were sharp and quick. It was just a flash of lightning, and the knife was driven in Amber’s chest, and she was declared dead.

The investigations started months ago, and even now, any path they take to find out about the murderer is a dead end.

Almost the entire Figure 8 is invited to the funeral; including you.

You stand at the very end of the crowd, black clothes on your body and a black umbrella over your head, protecting you from the rain.

Your eyes scan over the procession, watching the funeral ceremony taking place in the burial ground where Amber’s coffin is meant to be buried. You can hear the quiet sobs from the front, from Amber’s family, her siblings and cousins, her friends, and from Rafe.

Your gaze zeroes on him as a man begins to gently pull Rafe up from his knees and to get him away from the coffin, because it’s time to take the coffin away for the burial. You see Rafe protesting, his hands reaching out to catch a glimpse of Amber; it doesn’t matter if it’s her coffin. He just wants to feel her, one last time, before she leaves his life completely.

His sobs get louder, dry screams erupting from his throat as the coffin gets carried away. Amber’s mother carefully approaches him and takes him in her arms, her own eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears stream down her cheeks.

As time passes, everyone begins to disperse the burial ground, even Amber’s family, except for Rafe. Her family gently pleads with him to leave too, but he refuses. ‘Just five more minutes’ is what he mumbles in his voice hoarse from all his sobbing to Amber’s mother, who squeezes his hand in return and lets him stay.

And now, everyone has left, but you’re still standing in the same position, watching Rafe, who’s sitting on the wet grass, the rain which is now reduced to a drizzle still showering over him.

You carefully make your way over to him and get down on your knees next to him, letting your umbrella cover him too.

He looks up when he realizes he’s not feeling the raindrops fall on him anymore, his teary eyes finding yours. Completely drowned in the whirlpool of his emotions, he didn’t realize you are still there.

It’s silent for a few moments as Rafe sits with him hugging his knees close to his chest, his head resting on them. You sit next to him, making sure to keep him protected from the rain.

“Rafe…” you murmur after a few more moments of utter silence pass over you both. You gently place a hand on his shoulder, and he looks up at you — his bloodshot eyes drooping from tiredness.

Another moment of silence passes by, the space around you filled only with the sound of the raindrops pattering on your umbrella. The rain seems to slow down even more, the gloomy clouds beginning to light up.

You can see Rafe’s facade beginning to crumble, his need to be comforted washing over the need to be alone and away from you, and ever so slowly, he leans closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You let your free arm quickly wrap around his shoulders and you pull him closer, your hand rubbing over his back.

The sobs he had started to bury inside himself start sputtering out, his body squeezing closer to you, every fiber of his being craving comfort as he buries his face in his neck and lets himself go, his tears falling against the skin of your neck.

“Shhh Rafe you’re okay, I’m here, I’m here for you,” you mumble softly in his ear. His hands come to wrap around your frame tightly, as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

You finally have him in your arms again, the only arms he should ever be in, the only arms that should be comforting him, the only arms that should ever hold him.

You lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead to comfort him more as you repeat soft words to soothe him as much as you can. When Rafe makes no move to pull himself away from you, you slightly tighten your hold around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

You let him hold you however he desires, and cry how much he wants.

As you keep on rubbing your hand over his back to soothe him, your gaze looks out at the stretch of the burial ground, your eyes following the path along which Amber’s coffin was carried.

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you let the reality of the situation settle in you.

Amber’s out of Rafe’s life, and he is back where he belongs.

A small satisfied smile quirks the corners of your lips all the while Rafe’s face remains tucked in the crook of your neck, his hands holding onto you as if you’re his last lifeline.

Game over, Amber.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @rafedrewandjjs

specific tags for this fic: @ietss / @mileyraes / @ilyrafe / @runningfrom2am / @congratsloserr

@ladyinbl00d / @zyafics / @karmasloverrr / @rafesgiirl

[evolnoomym]

Bigger than the whole sky 🌌

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt.2🌠 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You meet Joel and well of course you fall for each other. It’s a bit bumpy since he’s your Dads best friend. But things seem to work out until they don’t anymore. One event changes everything.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pov switches that might be confusing, female reader, reader has hair, reader wears makeup, reader can get pale, weight loss, implied childhood abuse, trauma, angst, heavy angst(?), implied smut, alludes to pregnancy, funerals, coffins, reader has no name only a bunch of nicknames, size difference, dbf!Joel Miller, mentions of throwing up, loss of a loved one, grief, depression (?), food and eating issues are mentioned, talks of having a baby, Blood, dark thoughts, intrusive thoughts, age gap, readers age is not exactly mentioned but Joel is 44, talks of getting married….

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @almostfoxglove ‘s Angst Writing Challenge. Shoutout to her she created the moodboard, it’s sooooo beautiful. 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is also only my second time posting writing for a specific character. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. This not beta read btw only by my eyes and they hurt after starring at the screen for so long 🌌🫶🏻

And lastly I’ll leave some songs i listened to while writing <3

loml by Taylor Swift

Black Friday by Tom Odell

This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams

I guess by Mitski

Present by Lloyd Vaan

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Home by Daughter

Allowed to be Happy by Gustavo Santaolalla

Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire, Owen Pallet

aisatsana [102] by Aphex Twin

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Francis Forever by Mitski

A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain

Medicine by Daughter

Youth by Daughter

I can barely say his name by Patrick Jonsson

listen before I go by Billie Eilish

You remember exactly how you met Joel Miller, it was so simple. He was the one to give your Dad a job at the construction company he led together with his younger brother Tommy. In the beginning you only heard how great of a boss he supposedly was through your Dads stories. 

Joel and him seemed to have grown into real good friends in the span of mere weeks. You always had wondered what the man from his stories was like in person, up close. 

When you had to drive to the construction site to bring your Dad his lunch he had forgotten due to being a bit busy that morning. It seemed like your wishes to meet Joel would become reality. You didn’t think the big boss would spend his precious time with the actual building process but as you'd figure out in the future, Joel is a hands on kinda guy. 

You must’ve looked super out of place and quite lost when he approached you. His Texas drawl still echoed through your head hours later. „Well Hello Darlin, lookin for someone?“ and if that alone didn’t completely blew you away, then certainly his stunning looks. When you turned towards the voice a tall, broad and awfully handsome man looked back at you.

After an awkward beat of silence he stretched his hand out towards you “Apologies sweetheart, should’a start with the name, huh?” Tilting his head slightly “Name’s Joel, Joel Miller.” At that you let your hand slip onto his outstretched one. His hand was so huge, warm and calloused. Shaking his hand kinda calmed you down Joel Miller was absolutely lovely. “Nice to finally meet the famous Joel Miller that my Dad keeps yapping about nonstop.” You giggled while cheekily winking at him. 

That must’ve been a key moment for everything that was to follow. You’d see Joel again and again. Whether due to your Dad inviting the single, 44 year old Man over or due to you having to deliver your Dad’s forgotten food. 

The tension was slowly building higher and higher between you two until one day in Joel’s office you could no longer hold back. 

Joel stood in his office with you by his side, in front of a pinboard containing all sorts of information about his newest project. He was animatedly explaining processes you’d never understand in a million years. You actually kind of tuned him out and just enjoyed being unbelievably close to him. 

Then his face kinda looked confused. Oh no he must’ve asked you a question. Shaking your head you say  “Mhhh sorry, what did you just ask?” Joel tilts his head towards you the way he always does and then states “Ya didn’t listen to a single word I just said, right Sweetcheeks?” 

He always comes up with the most ridiculous nicknames that cause a vicious pull in your lower stomach. You lost count of how many conversations with him ended in drenched panties. 

“I….i -of course I was listening to you, why wouldn’t I?” You stammered a bit offensively, surely he’d see right through you. 

“Hm kay, so what was I talkin bout, gorgeous?” He’s teasing at this point. 

“Ok I wasn’t listening but that is a lot I don’t get anyway so can you really blame me, Miller?” You fired back. 

“So, whatcha thinkin bout inside of that pretty little head of yours, instead of listening to me?” You just scoff at him “Let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly what I was thinking about Joel.” Pointing one accusing finger at his broad chest. At that motion Joel enveloped your wrist in one of his massive hands, pulling you closer that way. Until you were right in front of him, only a tiny space left between your faces. “Why don’t ya tell me whatcha thinkin about Baby?” 

He must know, just by seeing how your eyes keep slipping down to glance at his pillowy lips, what is going through your head. You’ve been dancing around this topic, the tension, the pull towards each other, how forbidden it is for all of this to happen. Joel is your Dads Best friend and he’s twice as old as you are but you know that if you don’t kiss him right now you’ll go insane. It’s all you think about, kissing him and then some more. 

For the first time in years you actually consider letting someone get so close again. Joel would never hurt you like the ones before him did, no, he’s mature and wouldn’t play any of those stupid games. You know how kind, considerate, protective and caring he is for the ones he loves. Sure it won’t be easy to explain any of this to your Dad but you can’t think about that right now, no, you have to kiss Joel, it’s the last thought before leaning up to push your lips against his. 

One chaste kiss that erupted into a full blown make out session that only got interrupted by some frantic knocks at Joel’s Office door. 

From that day on those meetings became a routine, in his office, his truck, his house or sometimes he’d take you out of town for a super secret Date. The thrill of hiding with the possibility of getting caught soon turned into shame for lying to your Dad so much. You wanted to tell him even though it scared you more than anything how he might react. 

Surprisingly though he didn’t completely freak out, of course he was shocked and confused how this combination came to be. More than anything he took the lying personally and made clear that as long as you are happy, so is he. If Joel was the one then so be it, besides your Dad has a lot of respect for Joel and knows you're in good hands. 

After 3 months of being an official couple Joel asked if you’d be happy to move in with him. You had to think about it for a long time, feeling quite guilty about leaving your Dad behind but he reassured you that he would be fine on his own. He told you that a grown woman like you shouldn’t have to live with her boring old man anymore than you already did. 

So you moved into Joel’s house. And what followed were months filled with wonderful memories. Many barbecues were held, your Dad and Joel always standing at the grill together, each nursing on their beer bottles. 

Whenever you wanted to try a new recipe your Dad was invited over so you could make sure he still ate enough, the night always ending with you sending him home with a bunch of Tupperware's filled to the brim with deliciously homemade meals. 

When you wanted to paint the walls in the living room a new shade your Dad came over to help. 

Making sure his baby girl is happy and content was your Dads number one priority. 

Then one day you went over to his house to catch up a little bit, just you two having some Dad and Daughter one on one quality time. 

He was so excited when you told him that Joel and you want to have a baby. 

He told you what a great mother you’d make because of how wonderful you always have been with kids and how much you always wanted to have kids of your own. 

To others it might’ve been weird to share such an information with their Dad but you have such a close bond that it’s not weird at all. 

You were so happy on the drive home cuz you know what great grandpa he’d make. 

It must've been exactly one week later when you woke up with an indescribable feeling in your chest. As if the world spun a little slower, or the air felt more compromising…whatever it was you couldn’t stop feeling like something had happened. 

Your intuition only perked up more when your Dad didn’t show up for the usual Sunday’s breakfast you recently started doing. 

After 8 calls that nobody picked up you told Joel you would drive over there and as if he knew that you would need him for whatever was awaiting you there, he came with you. 

The closer you got to the house the worse you felt. Hands sweaty, heartbeat racing and your stomach felt like turning over at the sight of the house. Usually he would be up by now playing his obnoxiously loud music that you’d hear on the street through the open kitchen window. Instead it was eerily quiet. 

When Joel had parked the car he told you to wait for him but you couldn't. You just ran up the steps, unlocked the door with your spare key and bolted through the house as if on instinct you skipped up the steps to his bedroom. You flung the door open and there he was. Just laying on his designated side with his glasses still on and one hand on his chest across his heart. He looked like he was just sleeping but deep down you knew he was not. You can’t remember a lot, only that you immediately bolted towards the bathroom to empty your stomach out, Joel came up too and tried  comforting you through the heaving. Then he tried to get you away from the scene. Joel took care of everything while you just locked up inside of yourself. No tears, no screams, no words, not a singular reaction just nothing. Joel had never seen you look so…empty. 

Later on the authorities would say it’s just natural cause, he simply passed in his sleep, nothing dramatic. Not the kind of closure you would have wanted. It didn’t matter how “normal” it was, your world stopped spinning entirely. Everyone seemed to go one but you just stopped. 

Suddenly without any foreshadowing everything was completely flipped on its head. You loved him so much, he was your best friend. He told you all the time how much he loved you even with all your struggles. You’d never have to prove your worth to him; he'd love you no matter what. In his eyes you were a gift, opposite to your mother that looked at you as a burden. You never felt loved by her. She took away your precious childhood and forced you to grow up quickly. So you could take care of her. Even when you told her how close to the edge you were she always made everything about herself. Out of your parents the one person that actually wanted you, died and with him so did your willingness to continue with the fight against all your inner demons.

You lost yourself after that. For weeks you just slept, barely moving, only getting up to use the toilet and perhaps eat something small and drink a bit. Joel had to shower you, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it yourself. Who you were before losing your Dad was gone, as if you died with him. 

Joel tried everything in his power to make you feel better. One time he wanted to paint with you since you loved to do that, but the moment your eyes caught sight of the little paint pots you ran for the toilet to empty out your stomach. Later on he realized his mistake, you used to paint with your Dad a lot all the way back in your childhood so of course that would not make you feel better. Then he tried playing music for you either your favorite songs from your playlist or on his guitar. Nothing, you just continued to be completely catatonic. 

Then the funereal came, a day Joel dreaded he was not sure you’d be able to handle it. In the morning he made your hair and applied a bit of makeup, he watched you do your little routine often enough to know what he was doing. Afterwards he dressed you in a simple black dress and equally black flats. Walking only worked since Joel kept you upright. 

Sitting in the front row bench at the chapel you looked like a ghost. Pale and sunken in. You were asked to do a speech about your Dad but that would’ve been impossible. So Joel went up to do it instead. You just stared straight ahead at the coffin, not sparing a glance towards Joel. 

And once everything was over, the people, mostly his colleagues, paid him their respects. When everyone was gone you stayed and just laid your head on the coffin silently sobbing, which was the most emotion Joel had seen in weeks from you. Only he was to witness this vulnerability. 

Staring at the completed grave was just as daunting. His name is written in cold stone. All that’s left is this hole in the earth and a stone on top with his name. 

You walked away without sparring another glance toward the grave.

Then it seemed like you were getting better. You spoke more, ate more and slept less. You even searched out body contact with Joel, though it was just some cuddling and gentle kissing. But he took it as a step in the right direction. 

You almost fully returned to your old self but Joel could have not predicted how wrong he would be. 

He should’ve listened to his gut that told him something was off when you didn’t kiss him goodbye before he left for work that morning. 

You know how hard it will be but there’s no other choice. You have to get away, you have to leave so he can find someone better, someone who deserves a man like Joel Miller, someone less troubled, someone normal. 

Those fears you have now, always were inside of you but with your Dad passing they just all came to the surface. Grief killed you, it took everything, it’s as if you're in a room with a beautiful glowing bulb and some dark entity just rips it away. You're left in the dark and not even Joel’s light can make it better. 

You lost something nothing can replace. 

All your life you feared what would happen if you’d lose someone like this without any way of getting closure, he died without any warning just poof and gone he was. 

Your final goodbye was never said. 

Now you can’t remember how he used to be, you only remember him laying in his bed without moving a damn muscle,dead. You were the one to find him and even though it was not some unsettling scene it’s not leaving your head. You try hard to remember how he spoke that sarcastic tone he usually used. 

You can’t remember his face anymore, not even looking at pictures brings him back and at the same time he’s all you think about as if he’s haunting you. You hate him for leaving you so early. Why him? What kind of curse was laid upon you that everything always seems to fall apart when you think it’s finally working out. 

It’s as if some higher up can sense that you are happy and content with your life and they don’t want to give you that sorta life. 

The moment your brain processed what had happened you fell into the darkness like a big hole that sucked you in without any way out. Anyone around you could be another loss so what do you do? You leave, you disappear so no one gets hurt by whatever is wrong with you. 

Looking at yourself hurts because it’s him you see and it’s him you hear in your head he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you’re hallucinating because you swear to see him round the corner, you can almost hear him call out but when you try to look there’s nothing. 

Sometimes but much rarer than you’d like to admit you’ve visited the grave, sometimes you speak to no one. Sometimes you scream in agony till you almost lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes you just stare. 

It’s a sick twist of events considering how often he walked on cemeteries with you as a child. You didn’t understand the meaning behind them back then, you only loved to admire the beautiful flower ornaments laying on top of the graves. Your dad always told you how soothing these walks seemed for you. 

One time he took you and you had so much fun admiring the flowers giggling and smiling. Your dad wanted to tell you off since it’s a place where people grieved especially with a woman sitting nearby crying. He went to apologize to her on your behalf but the woman told him not to. She thought it was an uplifting sight to see little you having so much joy about the flowers, that’s a story he always kept telling you again and again. 

All your life those walks soothed your frayed mind. The quiet somber energy is something no other place could compare with. Now it’s the last place you’d wanna be in. The moment you step foot on the property, the panic starts to creep up on you. The closer you get to him the worse it gets. 

Sometimes the voices in your head scream to just start digging into the earth to get him out of that godforsaken coffin. Look at him, do something to bring him back. If the devil would show up to take you instead of your dad you’d do it. He was a troubled man but he tried so hard. He did not deserve any of this, he should’ve been here for all the good times yet to come. 

You imagined him walking you down the aisle, having that stupid first look with him where he’d surely try so hard not to cry but looking at his baby in a wedding dress would’ve been way too much for him to stay strong. You imagined having your first dance with him. 

You imagined how excited he would’ve been to hear that he was going to be a grandpa. In your head you can see him with a little baby that looks just like you. But none of this will ever happen; he's dead. 

Sometimes it’s hard to even look at Joel. He's connected to him as well; he was his boss and one of his closest friends. It’s not fair you know but in your head you see Joel and your dad laughing on the porch about some old men shit like always making their awful dad jokes. Or drinking a beer together or looking to fix something around the house. 

The house, Joel’s house and a place your dad spent a lot of time in. Walking through the hallways is not pleasant anymore, the couch is avoided as best as you can. He used to sit here all the time watching soccer games with Joel. The chair at the dining table he always sat on had to be removed simply seeing it made you sick and eating was already a hefty struggle since he passed. 

He left a mark anywhere and all of it was getting too much. The pressure in your head becomes more and more unbearable. 

Even though you tried to push all those negative festering thoughts away the voices could not be shut up no matter what you tried. 

The worst was when they started to go for Joel, suddenly all you could think of was how he’d die. Joel is only 10 years your dad’s junior. So if he died then why not Joel too. 

So many horrible scenarios played out inside your mind. Car accident, some freak accident on a construction site, getting attacked by multiple people, torturing him slowly, beating him to death, his head all split open, blood everywhere, or what if he gets shot by some crazy Texan who loves guns. There really was not a scenario left to imagine. 

Nightmares in the most cruel ways destroying you slowly from the inside out. And that just proved how one thing can make an avalanche of events happen. He was your purpose for most of your life, you only continued to play this game called life because you could not leave him. And now he left you. 

One time he told you how if it weren’t for you he’d be dead or in jail since there would be no reason to give a damn about his life. He was just like you, living for others instead of for himself. No one understood you like him. Somewhere deep inside you know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself so much but that singular fact does nothing compared to all the ever suffocating darkness. 

You’d give anything to have him back, feel his warm embrace one more time, hear him say how much he loves you, have him tell you one of his stories, have him tell you it’s going to be alright, take one more look and inhale his signature scent. You have one of his shirts doused in his favorite perfume, it’s what you used to do in all those years you lived far away from him during childhood. Now it does not help like it did back then. What remains of him? Nothing, all of his stuff shoved into a storage unit looked up, buried just like him. 

You know Joel tried hard to be supportive and not push you too hard. Sometimes you wished he would’ve just screamed at you, slapped some sense into you and told you to stop being such a disgraceful mess. That’s what they would’ve done. 

But Joel is not like that,  he helped you so much. Putting himself so far behind. So much so that you feel sorry he has to deal with an ill girlfriend, that’s what you are, a mental wreck. 

He deserves better treatment than the lackluster one you have given him in the last months. He deserves to be free of your weight dragging him down towards the abyss. Even though he told you in the beginning that he loves you with all the baggage and all the challenges, you cannot let him continue to waste his time. 

Besides you’re convinced he’d leave you anyway like everyone before one way or another you end up alone. You have no control of the situation but if you leave then you have the control it still hurts but it’s the only option in your head. 

The decision was made weeks ago, it felt wrong to lie to Joel to keep him thinking everything is fine only to then rip it all away but perhaps it’ll make him hate you so it’s easier. If he hates you then he will be able to move on with his life. Burn all you build together down.

 And then you knew today would be the day. You couldn’t bear to kiss him in the morning; it would only make everything harder. Some time after he left you got up. One last time using the shower you both occasionally used together having foam party’s, giggling, washing each other and then kissing, touching till it leads to you with your cheek squished against the tile and Joel behind you ferociously hitting that special spot inside of you, till you both reach your high. Now you’re alone staring at that specific spot in the tiles, too much so you turn away. 

One last time looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink, the mirror Joel and you both looked into while brushing your teeth. You dry your hair, put on fresh clothes, nothing too dramatic, just some simple black leggings and a black cotton shirt. 

Then you start packing the most important stuff into two big suitcases. Basically only clothes, some hygiene products and a few trinkets that you don’t want to leave behind. The rest can be either sold by Joel or thrown away. You don’t care, the less holding you back the better. 

Once the suitcases are packed you haul them down the stairs towards the front door. And then you just wait. For hours you sit at the dining table just staring ahead at the wall opposite where so many photos of Joel and you hang so many memories and you’ll destroy it. 

You should feel bad but these days you barely feel anything, numb is what you think you feel most of the time. Maybe that’s what your ex meant when he said that you don’t own a heart, that you’re a cold blooded mean person. Someone who plays with people until they stop serving their purpose, that's what he said. 

It’s almost 8pm, Joel should be home soon. You have practically studied the words you’ll say. An Uber already ordered to arrive 15 minutes after he should get home. Not much to talk about the less the easier so you can just walk away. 

Then you hear it, Joel’s truck driving up the driveway and coming to a halt. How he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. His keys jiggling while he searches for the right one. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him. You don’t turn towards him although you know he must be looking at you in astonishment. He can not miss the suitcases and something about the lack of his words tells you he knows exactly what this means. 

Joel cannot believe what he walked into, he knew something was off but just thought that he was starting to imagine things but here you are sitting like an empty shell of yourself and the packed suitcases can only mean one thing, he tries his hardest not to freak out that won’t make anything better. 

He starts walking towards you, slowly, once he reaches the threshold of the living room he speaks up 

“Moon, Darling what’s goin on?” He immediately continues “What’s with those suitcases, huh?” He can’t even hide the nervous quiver in his voice. 

You turn to finally look at him with empty eyes, get up and walk up to him and then “I have to leave.” And with that you move to walk past him but Joel stops you by reaching for you arm, you immediately pull your arm away hissing “Don’t fuckin touch me Joel.” 

He’s stunned by this harsh rejection, his expression full of hurt. Yet he persists by getting close, grabbing your face with both hands, his warm calloused hands that you love- loved so much. He urges “Talk to me baby, what is going on, why would ya need to leave?” Even with everything he tried to be gentle, his voice panicked yet almost just a whisper. 

He can see in your eyes some sadness creeping in when you mutter “Joel..-“ you take one deep inhale “-…this House no longer feels like home.” He can tell even with how hard you try to appear collected that it pains you to say those words. “Wh…what do ya mean? If- if the house is the problem we can just move.” You cut in “No Joel, no i..I don’t love you anymore. Ok? I can’t stay here any longer.” 

It’s a punch right into his gut there’s no way you are serious. “Baby all ya stuff is here you can’t just leave.” He tries to find something to buy him time. “I don’t care Joel just…just throw it away or sell it or I don’t know fuckin burn it. I won’t need it anyway.” He’s so shocked that you use that to continue your path towards the front door and the waiting suitcases. 

On top of one suitcase lies a tote bag containing your phone, a jacket and your wallet sits. You swing it over your shoulder, you can hear that Joel has started crying, his huffed breaths are all you can hear. 

That’s when a car starts honking outside, the Uber is here, you go to open the front door twisting the knob you can hear him walking up behind you with heavy steps. You open the door anyway with him at your back and you move the suitcases out onto the porch. Joel’s trying his hardest to contain his sobbing to a minimum but it’s hard he loves you so much, he thinks about the ring in his wardrobe hidden behind stuff you’d never go for and he thinks about the talks you two had of having a baby. If only he knew 

His heart is breaking watching you walk away from all of it. You turn to him, one last time, he looks shattered, you've never seen Joel like this, you give him a nod as if to give him the ok to touch you one more time if only to give some kind of closure. He moves closer without hesitation and takes your face in his hands once more and leans his forehead against yours. His frantic breathing collides with your face and then “Wh…why Baby just why?” He sobs A simple question and you decide to give him at least something you reach up to put your hands over his to get him to open his eyes. 

“Joel I’m not myself anymore, i-…i feel so all over the place and I’m so scared.” Tears start clouding your sight. “I need to be away from everything. I need to be alone far away to just maybe find some peace. I need to be gone.” And the tears start falling “No matter where I look I can’t stop seeing him and it’s crushing me.” Now you're full on crying. He’s processing what you’re saying and somewhere in his mind he understands that, still he can’t believe this is it. 

“Ok-….if ya need to go at least promise you’ll give some sorta sign ya alright?” He looks desperate “Please Baby….please just a text something anything.” You only nod and then pull out of his grasp, take the suitcases and shakinly make your way to the Uber. Joel can only watch and hope you’ll stick to your words, hope that you’ll find some kind of way back to yourself. 

The Uber driver gets out as you approach and opens the trunk helping to put the suitcases in there. Then you walk to the right door on the back, open it and hesitate for a moment. Joel holds his breath but you continue to slip into the backseat. Closing the door and off the car goes. Joel doesn’t know for how much longer he stood on the porch long after the car was gone. What was there is no more. 

Npt: @almostfoxglove @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell (honestly I’m tagging pretty randomly, sorry) 💙

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 4 – Know It's For The Better

⛸️ Summary: Coming back with his tail tucked between his legs and an apology resting on his tongue wasn't something Mingi was keen to do, but witnessing you fall and hurt yourself on the domain you called home, all precautions were thrown out the window as he carried you to the nearest hospital.

⛸️ Pairing(s): Hockey Player!Mingi x Figure Skater!Reader, Figure Skater!Hyunjin x Figure Skater!Reader

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst, fluff

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, mild sports injury, hospital scene, one idiom referencing blood, crying, brief make out session (everything is consensual btw)

⛸️ Current wordcount: 12.4K

⛸️ Author's note: So sorry for the late update! I was out with my friends and completely forgot I should've posted the fourth part of Cold Hands, Warm Heart! It's also the last part that I've written before hand, so that means I don't know when the next part will be up, hehehe. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights,  as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

There wasn’t an instance in life where you thought you’d struggle with finding the motivation to figure skate again. The sport was your everything. It was like breathing, a natural part of your life, so to experience that blockage was quite suffocating.

In the meantime, your friends sufficed as oxygen masks, giving you support in their own ways. But the one to help you the most was Hyunjin, because at the end of the day, he was the one to get you out on that ice again. That was weeks ago, and you agreed to have more practices together as you both had things to achieve; you to reclaim the love for ice skating and he to win the pair division of the Spring Championship with Iseul. Thereon out, Monday mornings were reserved for skating as neither had classes until the afternoon.

You were already out of bed at seven AM and had a little time to spare. Turning on the TV in your living room, you listened to the weather channel announcing an unexpected snowstorm that hit overnight and showed no signs of stopping, creating havoc in the city. Transportation lines were being put on paus and traffic hit every street in Seoul. The misfortune of not having a vehicle turned into luck as you were the first to arrive on time to the practice, but Hyunjin was still stuck in his car a few minutes away from the arena. The usual five minute drive would at least take him thirty minutes as read in his text.

Trying to make time pass faster you decided to start early with the warm up. Already clad in your training attire, all you had to do was fix your hair, put on the skates and stretch a little. As you were securing the ties the doors opened and the shifting sound had you turning around.

“I thought you said you’d be thirty minutes la–” The words died in your throat at the sight of Mingi. 

As your eyes locked, the air grew thinner until you thought your lungs were playing tricks on you and not pulling in the air you were so desperately seeking. Taking him in, you couldn’t help but hate how calm and collected he looked. His chest rose gently with each intake of oxygen, taunting you like usual.

“Is the rink yours?” He finally asked and the invisible ball resting in your throat vanished but even then you opted with a non-verbal reply, just a little nod of your head. 

You had gone great lengths to avoid him, hurtful words stored up in the back of your mind waiting patiently to catapult at the first encounter with him and now that he was a mere three meters in front of you, there was nothing in your head, it all went up in smoke, ceased to completely exist! 

“Okay.” 

“Fucking hell,” you cursed after he disappeared into the locker room. 

Cold to the touch, you covered your blazing cheeks with your hands and dragged the skin in a downward motion exposing the hidden part of your eyeballs. Everything was fine, you were fine, completely-prima-perfect, you thought and tried to calm down. You just had to imagine he wasn’t there, he was still in the snowy mountains doing stupid stunts and drinking his liver away, yeah!

Sitting down on the floor, you started with some light stretches, nothing too explicit but enough to get your body going until Hyunjin arrived. Moving from one position to another your muscles were slowly warming up and you decided to finish it off with a groin stretch. 

Maneuvering your legs into a V position, you slowly inched closer to the ground, arms stretched out and head facing the floor. You felt a burning yet nice feeling in your inner thighs and kept the position a little while longer. It felt so nice you didn’t notice Mingi coming back. A black compression shirt tucked into his sleazy gray sweatpants that were hanging dangerously low on his hips, sneaking looks at you for a good five minutes. The sight of you folded in half had his mind wandering down the slippery slope of sin and he almost forgot why he was resisting the need to pester you. 

“What?”

The squeaked question brought him out of his daze and he was quick to avert his gaze on the ice, praying you’d think nothing of the tint on his cheeks and accusing it as a side effect of the low temperature.

“Nothing.”

“The rink is mine,” you quickly snapped.

“Don’t worry I’ll wait til you’re done.”

You hated everything about him. You hated how he turned hot and cold with the flip of a switch, how he made your insides explode with butterflies, and how he set fire to your veins. Most importantly, you hated how you kind of missed him.

“You’ll be waiting a long time, bud,” Hyunjin answered and sent you a quick smile. Neither noticed the figure skater sneak in, all dressed and almost ready to go. In a matter of seconds he got rid of his outer clothing and secured the skates on his feet. 

“Shall we?” He held his hand out, palm upward and calling for yours. 

With a lump in your throat, you ever so gently allowed his soft hands to hold yours and guide you to the slippery floor. Mingi huffed and slumped down on the bench right outside the board doors. Anyone walking by would think he was too engrossed in his new stick to notice the beautiful performance taking place right in front of his eyes, but in reality his attention was on you. He wanted to bash his own head in.

Of course you weren’t going to be there alone and of course that asshole had to be there too. Why wouldn’t he? You two were a thing now, a couple with a popping ‘P’. 

You dominated the ice together. Hyunjin’s hand rested on your waist and traveled to your arms and legs, and other placements that had Mingi’s temperature rising. Oh, no one would understand how much he wanted to storm the rink and separate you two. Throw the male figure skater around like a cat playing with its toys, but he couldn’t. He fucked it up all those weeks ago.

So Mingi sat and did what he said he’d do. He waited.

If only Yunho hadn’t harassed him to leave their apartment, then he wouldn't be forced to watch the pair twirling with imaginary hearts and stars floating around them. That also meant he wouldn’t have crossed paths with you which seemed to be impossible considering you turned into a ghost since the explosion of an argument. Mingi heard nothing and saw nothing of you throughout the whole winter break and it continued into the first couple of school weeks too. It was nice, at first. Having enough time to think about other things than the girl who occupied his mind every waking hour, but after a few days there was nothing more to think about and only then did Mingi realize how deep of a hole you carved into his heart.

Taking the white tape beside him, he tore a small piece of it and stuck it to the blade of his stick, right in the middle. He contemplated whether to write something or just leave it blank. Mingi was always the guy who snickered as his teammates wrote the initials of their partners and not once did he imagine a day where he’d replace his signature ‘fix on’ — he came up with it during middle school and thought it was cool — for some random letters, but there he was, scribbling down the first acronyms of your full name. 

Shifting his gaze from the poor handwriting to you, his heart skipped a beat as Hyunjin grabbed you by your hips and raised you up in the air all while skating backwards. It looked magical and so professional, as if you were ready for the Olympics. Mingi knew the crowd would go wild at the two of you and a subconscious smile graced his face as your arms extended horizontally. You looked happy and despite the feud that took place right after his game, Mingi liked that glow on you. 

Dread overtook the glee on your face and Mingi watched as every athlete’s nightmare came to life. Hyunjin’s grip slipped from your waist and your abdomen crashed against his shoulder, the gravity dragging you down. The figure skater managed to wrap his arms around your thighs saving you from going head first on the ice and suffering a concussion, but your body weight threw him off balance and you both went down either way. On instinct your arms shot out to welcome the ground with your palms yet somehow your right forearm took the first blow. On the ice, Hyunjin quickly turned you over on your back, careful not to cause more harm. 

Blood rushed to Mingi’s ears as he realized you weren’t standing up and instead squirmed around, clutching your elbow closed to your chest with hot tears cascading down your cheeks. His new stick was thrown to the ground and he was by your side in seconds. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry,” Hyunjin repeated over and over again and Mingi had half a mind not to punch him across the face until his teeth left trails of crimson on the ice, like a spilled strawberry slushie.

Not wanting to think of the hundred different ways he could obliterate the handsome figure skater, he focused on you. The more important matter at hand. 

“Move if you’re not going to do anything,” he snapped and pushed Hyunjin with his shoulder.

As gently as his big build allowed him to, Mingi picked you up which earned teary winces from you that nearly had him pressing his lips against your temple.

“I have a car I can drive her to the ER,” Hyunjin said in panic. Poor guy couldn’t think straight, all he wanted to do was help and calm the bubbling guilt inside.

“The streets are packed, you’d help nothing by stuffing her in a car.”

“And what, you think you can just carry her wherever it is you’re going?”

Trying to keep his composure and not deck the pretty boy right in the face, Mingi replied curtly, “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“I’m not just going to let you take her like th–”

Mingi was really starting to regret his decision of playing the good and understanding guy. “No one is fucking asking for your permssion now get the fuck out of my way!” 

In another circumstance Mingi would jam his shoulder into Hyunjin’s, but not right now. Not with you in his arms, silently crying with each little movement of his.

“I gotchu, it’s alright. Just hang on a little longer, yeah princess?”

Before he pushed open the doors with his hips, Mingi glanced out of the window and winced at the snow. It wasn’t anywhere near as hectic as earlier, but it was still reaching minus degrees and your thin clothes would do nothing to keep you warm.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. 

His options were few and it wasn’t like his car was parked around the corner (he didn’t have a car nor a driver’s license). On the bright side, the hospital was just a ten minute walk, although you’d manage to freeze to death by the time you’d arrive.

“You with me?”

You quickly nodded.

“Okay, good. It’s cold out so I need to fetch you a jacket. I’ll just put you down on the bench, yeah?” 

“Okay,” you sniffled and wiped at your cheeks with the uninjured arm.

Mingi ran to the locker room, feet carrying him quicker than ever, snatched his jacket from the rack and ran back out. He put it around your shoulders, the material eating you up, and guided your healthy arm through one hole while the other was still up against your chest. After zipping it up he gently put one arm on your lower back and the other beneath your knees, carrying you like a bride to Seoul Hospital.

“Where are we going?” You asked as the cold snow petals landed on your face and hair. 

You couldn’t find it in you to feel bad for taking Mingi’s jacket and leaving him with nothing, the pain flaring in your elbow held all your attention and you weren’t even thinking of anything really, just hoping your bones hadn’t shattered at impact.

“To the hospital.”

Mingi breathed out a cloud of hot air. His nose, ears and hands were already turning red, but he didn’t mind. Light snowflakes landed on his hair and you wanted to run your fingers through it. 

“By foot?”

“Yes, like a true knight in shining armor.”

Your bottom lip wobbled and you started crying harder. The hot tears started to freeze on your cheeks, and you could only imagine what a horrifying view Mingi had. As if the guilt in your stomach wasn’t enough, now you were feeling self conscious too.

“I’m– I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

Shaking your head because you couldn’t get the words out that; no, you weren’t crying for his teasing (if that were the case then they would be tears of joy because hell, did you miss it) you were crying because everything was so wrong. You had been in the arms of the perfect guy for weeks and yet you felt nothing. No heart going crazy, heat rushing to your cheeks or stomach fluttering with pretty butterflies, just static. 

It wasn’t anything compared to how you were feeling now, warm, comfortable and content despite the ache in your arm and the whooping breezes slapping your face. Swept off your feet in Mingi’s embrace.

In the hospital you were immediately assigned to a room and told to wait for the doctor who’d run some tests. You weren’t the biggest fan of hospitals, it was something about their atmosphere that made you queasy. The overly white walls, the faint smell of disinfection and just eriness of people walking in cloaks and hospital masks covering their faces. It didn’t matter how much resources went into decorating the place, it was still nauseating and it didn’t help that you were supposed to sit alone for God knows how long until someone came to check on you. 

An orange blanket covered your legs and a pack of baby wipes were in your hands that you used to remove the mess of tears and make-up on your skin. They didn’t give you anything to ease the pain and your phone, along with all your other stuff, was left at the arena, leaving you with no entertainment. Your skates were by the floor leaning against the bed and Mingi’s jacket was returned to him the moment you settled into the room. Mingi was probably long gone too, and the thought left a lump in your throat. Just when you thought life couldn’t get any brighter the door slid to the side and in came the person you were thinking of, a mini-bag of chips falling from the mountain of other snacks in his arms.

“Uh, they had a vending machine out front and I–uh, didn’t know if you were hungry and they also had a bunch of stuff but I don’t know what you liked so I just grabbed a bit of everything.”

You watched tentatively as Mingi clamped his mouth shut and shuffled to the hospital bed, gently letting the snacks fall on your lap. You didn’t say anything, not entirely sure what to make of the whole situation and looked at the different snacks he brought. The bag of choco-chips really looked appetizing. From the corner of your eyes you noticed he was balancing on the balls of his feet and realized this must have been as awkward for him as it was for you. Trying to play if cool, you grabbed the choco-chips and held them, finding them working as an anchor. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi bit his lower lip, hiding the grin daring to come out, and took a bag for himself and sat down on the chair left of the bed facing you, feet extended and elbows propped up on the armrest. 

“Ah, I almost forgot these.” Out of the pocket of his sweats, he handed you a carton of banana milk. “They were out of the strawberry ones.”

Snapping your eyes up to his which were set on the drink in his hand, you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face.

“How do you know I like the strawberry ones?”

“Because you drink anything with strawberries in it,” he replied nonchalantly as if it was a common fact known worldwide.

Mingi made himself comfortable and munched away on the shrimp chips. You were confused. The longer you tried wrapping your head around it, the more questions popped up. He was aware he didn’t have to sit there with you, right? Sensing your eyes staring at him, he met your gaze and cleared his throat.

“What?”

“You don’t have to sit here.”

“I know.” Another piece was thrown into his mouth. “Do you want me to leave?”

Parting your lips to answer the doors opened again. This time a man with a white cloak draped over his blue scrubs stepped into the room, a paperclip in hand and a stethoscope around his neck. With little to no small talk and after asking Mingi to step out, the doctor began his examination.

“There is some good news and some bad news,” he revealed and adjusted his glasses. “The good news is that nothing in the arm is broken, however you’re suffering a rough case of an elbow contusion which can take up to four weeks of healing time depending on how much stress you put on it. There’s no prescription for such injuries and the biggest advice we can give is to rest for a few days. You can pick up painkillers at the pharmacy and if there are any further complications then you are to immediately return.”

Mingi waited outside — almost hovering over the door hadn’t the three passing nurses told him to take a seat — as he wasn’t family or an immediate relative to you. The impulsive idea to lie about being your boyfriend crossed his mind, but it would be rather awkward to explain why the doctor suddenly had a change of heart. 

“Mingi-ya!” Yunho jogged down the hallway wearing mismatched clothes, eyes wide and blonde hair unkempt. Your sneakers were in his hands, adding onto his already rowdy outfit. He immediately crouched in front of Mingi and took hold of his arms, scanning them for injuries and moved up along his head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it's not me who got hurt.”

The tension in his shoulders relaxed at the admission and he allowed himself a breather since the unexpected phone call woke him up. Yunho didn’t know how he managed to get there without causing multiple accidents, the boy was driving on sole muscle memory. 

“Dude, you can’t just tell me to come to the ER without an explanation. I thought you got a concussion or someone was dying!”

“Sorry, I just panicked and you were the first on my recents… Nice outfit you got going on,” Mingi teased and caressed his non-existent mustache to hide a smile.

Glancing down at his attire — black shoes with yellow socks, a red hoodie, gray sweatpants and a black coat — Yunho let out the biggest sigh Mingi had ever heard in their fifteen-something-year long friendship and plopped down on the empty chair beside him. Yunho looked ridiculous and would fit right in a skittles commercial.

“Don’t say anything, I just threw on random shit and left. I don't even know if I locked the door or not… Who’s in there anyway, couldn’t BM or Jungkook pick you up?”

What Yunho didn’t expect was for you to come out with your arm in a slingshot and puffy eyes distracting him from your friendly smile. Both boys stood up, shoulders bumping and floor squeaking beneath their feet.

“Uhm, hey, I’m Yunho. Mingi’s friend.”

You recognized him as the guy in Mingi’s Instagram posts. Offering him a handshake, which he mistook as you reaching for your shoes, you introduced yourself.

“I know who you are, Mingi’s been talking abou–” 

“What did the doctor say?” Mingi abruptly interrupted Yunho and stepped closer to you, mouth pursed and brows slightly curved downward. 

His eyes were set on the slingshot supporting your arm, and you liked to think it had something to do with what Yunho was saying. A tingle sparked his fingertips, ordering him to reach out and gently caress your skin, but he withheld, afraid you’d crumble at contact.

“It’s just an elbow contusion.”

And at that moment all the air was knocked out of Mingi’s lungs. You spoke of it as if it was a minor inconvenience. 

As if his heart didn’t jump in his throat or stomach didn’t tie itself in knots.

As if he couldn’t breathe for the torturously slow seconds you fell to the ground and only moved at your pained wailing. 

As if the chewed skin around his thumbs were out of boredom and not concern for your well-being.

Having known Mingi since Yunho could remember, it was easy to read between the lines of his small habits: biting his lip to keep from laughing, getting physically clingy when jealous or wanting something, touching his hair when nervous and like now, growing stiff when at unease, and other traits that strangers wouldn’t bat an eye at. 

“How are you doing now?” Yunho asked from behind Mingi and shot you a tightlipped smile.

You shrugged. “Nothing’s broken.”

A beat of silence later, Mingi spoke again, “Come on, Yunho’s driving us to grab your stuff and then to get you home.”

With the touch of a ghost on your shoulder, he guided you outside with Yunho right behind. Exhausted and wanting to go home, you didn’t try talking them out of it by insisting to just let you take a cab. You hated the fluttering thing your heart did as Mingi walked beside you like a scary dog ready to bark at anyone crossing the invisible circle of your personal space. Soft music played from the speakers and the two guys occasionally got into some small talk, Yunho trying his best to include you in it with questions of your major and hobby. To your relief the drive didn’t take long.

“Wait here, I’ll get your stuff.” Mingi unbuckled his seatbelt, but you were already out of the vehicle.

“There’s no need for that. I still have two functioning legs.” Gaze shifted to the driver, “Thank you for the drive, Yunho-ya. You don’t have to wait, okay? I’ll call my friend to pick me up.”

“You sure? I don’t have anything to do, I can take you home.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I promise.”

With one last ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, you gently closed the car door and hurried inside. In the haste of getting out of the vehicle, you forgot your skates and Mingi wasted no time snatching them up and running after you. Staring through the window, you noticed the empty ice was now full of hockey boys doing drills. All traces of you and Hyunjin were erased, as if you were never there to begin with. It didn’t surprise you that he left either, who’d wait almost two hours for you anyway?

“Yo, Mingi!”

You jumped at the loud smack of a puck colliding with the board and stared impassively at the hockey player that skidded to a stop on the other side of the plexiglas. He raised his head gear — the facade behind was someone you were unfamiliar with — and smirked at Mingi who nearly clung to you like a mosquito thirsty for blood.

“Coach reserved you ten suicides for being late.”

The stranger banged on the translucent surface and returned back to practice, and if it weren’t for your hurting elbow or downturned mood, you’d say something smart and give him one of your glares, but you didn’t. The faster you got your stuff, the quicker you’d get a hold of Keeho and be on your way home. 

Continuing down the familiar path to the changing rooms, you halted in the entryway as you saw Jungkook locking a door behind him. His eyes trailed over your figure and then let his gaze jump between you and Mingi (he was still persistently sticking to your side). Although Jungkook was known for being dirty minded and quite foolish, the boy wasn’t oblivious to the tension presented in the room. It also didn’t stop him from being his shitty-self.

“Bringing your girlfriend and being late,” Jungkook whistled. “Coach’s not gonna like that, Song.”

The remark was aimed to prance on Mingi’s nerves, yet your insides fluttered at the term. Maybe it didn’t sound that bad. Being Mingi’s girlfriend. You mentally slapped yourself for allowing your mind to wander.

“Piss off, coconut head.”

That he did and snickered as he tauntingly patted Mingi’s shoulder, and whispered an encouragingly, “Go get your lamb.” Pun wholeheartedly intended. 

Mingi leaned against the wall and waited as you disappeared into the changing room. He realized there was a lot of waiting when it came to you, but he wouldn’t really have it any other way. You eventually came back out wrapped in your own outerwear and Mingi’s jacket in your hold. The leather one was still neatly thrown over your chair in your bedroom, waiting to be returned to its rightful owner. You both stopped idly by the door and just stared at each other. Now that no one was there — no Yunho, no Hyunjin, no doctors, nurses or annoying teammates — the atmosphere returned to a thick and awkward silence. It’d sure be handy to have some mind reading abilities, you’d do anything for even a speck of insight in Mingi’s mind.

He silently handed you the skates and in return, you gave him back his jacket.

“Thanks.” 

It came out as a whisper and you weren’t even sure he heard it. The overwhelming feeling of not wanting to be in debt, especially not to Mingi, who clearly said he didn’t want anything to do with you, had you opening your mouth again. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” 

He pushed off the wall, hands buried deep in his sweats, and his gaze finally landed on you. Fiddling with your fingers and suddenly growing nervous, you explained yourself.

“Wait at the hospital. I could’ve walked home or caught a cab.”

“I wasn’t about to let you walk home barefoot. It’s not a big deal and Yunho loves to help. I'm pretty sure he’s already grown fond of you.”

“Mingi-ya–” 

It was the first time you called him by his name since the (one-sided) fight and God did he love it. Starstruck by the way it rolled off your tongue, he nearly tuned out on the rest of your sentence.

“–you've never missed practice and you definitely shouldn’t start doing it for some girl.”

“Stop talking like that.”

The command was firm, yet lacked the heat you remembered from that night, and came out far more tender than you expected. As if your statement physically hurt him.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re just some girl. I wouldn’t do half the shit I did if you were just some girl.”

You parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out and you closed your mouth only to open it again. 

“Yunho’s waiting for you outside and don’t argue, he’s taking you home because he wants to and because I need to know you’re safe.”

As you walked out together, a little too close for there not to be anything between you, immature cheers sounded from the practicing group of boys.

“Fucking ignore them, lousy assholes, I swear to God.” Before Mingi could make sure you got into Yunho’s car and wouldn’t bolt, an older and gruffer voice called for him.  

“Shit,” he whispered and closed his eyes, the reality of where he was and what he missed, sinking in. He faced you again, staring at you as if he was holding back, but from what you didn’t know. “I’ll… see ya around?”

You nodded, knowing that you’d do everything and anything to not let that happen. It irked you how he could ignore you and then turn back to normal as if nothing was wrong. Who said you even wanted to see him again? Definitely not your aching heart. 

Glancing down at your phone, you immediately filtered through the hundred texts waiting to be opened. A few from Dasom wondering where you were and if she should bring take out for dinner. Next was Keeho talking about some movie and recommending it for the next sleepover, then calling you out for quote-unquote ghosting him for hours, and most recently were the texts from Hyunjin.

Hyunjin [9:04 AM] im so so sorry

Hyunjin [9:04 AM] fuck i swear i didnt mean to, idek what happened but im so sorry

Hyunjin [9:15 AM] did you go to the hospital? 

Hyunjin [9:15 AM] what did the doctors say? 

Hyunjin [9:16 AM] please dont let it be anything serious

Hyunjin [9:55 AM] text me when you see this please

The snow had stopped falling by the time you responded to Hyunjin’s texts, quickly agreeing to meet up with him in a park not too far from your neighborhood. Dasom, reluctant to let you out of her sight, forced her pinky around yours with the promise you wouldn’t be gone for long, as if you could ever go against her puppy eyes. Wearing a thick jacket covering you from head to toe and a beanie and scarf, you ventured out into the Korean version of Antarctica. The short-lived walk was spent replaying the accident. The feel of Hyunjin’s hand slipping from your hip, the painful collision, and the sudden yet comforting and quite confusing appearance of Mingi. 

Recognizing you from meters away, Hyunjin hastily stood up from his seat on the wooden bench and jogged towards you. He quickly, but very gently, closed the distance between you, his arms coming around you with utmost care, not to cause you more harm, and you reciprocated the hug with your healthy arm slinking around his waist.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered into the side of your head and shakily inhaled your scent, as if to calm down. You looked alright, but he was still quite shaken from the incident.

The timber in his voice pierced your heart. It wasn’t his fault, and you didn’t blame him for it. 

Taking hold of your shoulders, his fingers shook as they curled around your body and carefully pushed you back. He stared at you with waves of remorse and guilt. You didn’t like those emotions on him; they made his eyes somber and his charming lips bland in that down-curved form.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin. It’s nothing serious.”

“Don’t say that. You put your trust in me and I dropped you. My most important task, my only task and I fucked it up. It could’ve ended so much worse.”

Clasping one of his hands in yours, you gave it a comforting squeeze. “But it didn't, and I’m fine. It’s just a bruised elbow. Nothing serious, alright? Athletes get it all the time, you of all people should know that, you absolute prodigy.”

The attempt to lighten the mood worked as his mouth curled up in a wobbly smile. You weren’t lying when you said it wasn’t anything serious. You still had movement in your hand and fingers, and the rest of your arm wasn’t hurting, unless you walked into a cabinet or door, but that would hurt with or without an elbow contusion.

“I’m still sorry.” 

“And, although I never harbored any resentment, I forgive you.”

You understood where Hyunjin was coming from; heck, you’d be feeling the exact same in his shoes. The base for pair skating was built on a sturdy foundation of trust and comfort. A flicker of doubt was enough to chip at the cement, turning it unstable and weak, eventually leading to its collapse. Mistakes were a part of the figure skating experience, and although you poured your whole trust in Hyunjin, it didn’t mean you were an exception to them.

“Does this mean we can no longer practice together?” You asked with a pout and Hyunjin could melt on the spot, like a popsicle forgotten on a summer day.

“No, I’d love to continue our sessions, preferably after your elbow’s all healed up.”

“What?! But I already cleared my schedule for you tomorrow.” The deadpanned look he shot you had you bursting with laughter. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Of course you’re.” 

Somewhere between the chatter, you occupied the bench again. Talking to Hyunjin came more naturally now. No stuttering or a heart threatening to pop out of your chest, or a face burning hotter than the seven rings of hell. You warded off the replay of your and Dasom’s conversation for the time being and just enjoyed the comfortable air surrounding you. 

“Remember when I asked if you and Mingi were friends?”

You snapped your head to the side, brows high on your face and eyes curious as to where he was going with that. Of course you remembered. After all, it was the first time you did anything outside of figure skating together and your weak heart could barely process it without going into palpitation. 

With an affirmative nod, Hyunjin continued. 

“And you said that you were far from it?”

Another nod. 

“I have a feeling you’re wrong about that.”

“What do you mean?”

Hyunjin sat in silence, contemplating whether he should take back his words or just tell you what he saw. It wouldn’t be fair to act as if the worry stretched across your features was just a speck of Hyunjin’s imagination.

“When I dropped you he was right there.”

“Yeah, well he watched us practice–”

“No. I mean, he came out of thin air. I’ve never seen someone move so fast in my life, like I didn’t even get to react before he had you in his arms and barking orders at me. For a second there, I thought he was going to bite my head off,” Hyunjin chuckled, but the humor was swept away with the cold wind. 

Of all the things he could say, that wasn’t what you expected and all you could offer him was a blank stare. At a loss for words, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Was he even talking about the right Mingi? The Mingi who’d been ignoring you since forever, the Mingi who dumped all his hatred on you and didn’t even explain why?

Hyunjin took it as his memo to keep talking. “And the look in his eyes whenever they land on you…” 

You pictured your grave being dug with an empty casket beside.

“It’s the only thing he and I have in common.”

The feel of someone tearing a hole in your ribcage hurt like fire burning your skin, and a thousand needles prickled your heart as the hand tightly wrapped around it.

“You don’t have to say anything. I already know I’ve lost the chance I had with you a long time ago.”

And as the beating organ was yanked out, you flinched and fell to your knees.

“Hyunjin–”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, a sad smile taking over his beautiful face, and your lips wobbled in return. “You, too, have that look when you see him.” 

“What look?”

You sounded desperate, as if you were forcing yourself not to understand his words, even though somewhere deep inside you knew what he was hinting at. But playing a fool was easier than accepting reality. Blinded by your own sadness, you couldn’t stop mourning the idea of what could have been and it stung to know that the guy you’d been pining over for a good year or so liked you back, but the timing wasn’t on either of your sides.

“It’s the one you have when you’re on the ice. Relaxed, happy and… at home.” 

You wanted to deny it. Tell him he was wrong. To tell him Mingi was nothing but a pain in your ass. A nuisance you hadn’t been able to get rid off since your first day in college, but you couldn’t. As you once again had nothing to say, Hyunjin stood up.

“Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.”

You stayed seated like a kicked puppy not wanting to leave its sick owner or family that was about to abandon it. With a soft call of his name, he turned and patiently waited. No remorse or grief on his perfectly sculpted face.

“I’ve noticed the things you’ve done for me, when I was bummed out because of the preliminaries… and I just wanted you to know, that I appreciate it and… and that I’m sorry.” 

“I never harbored any resentment, but I forgive you.”

Hyunjin’s words tormented you for days on end, although it wasn’t his confession that you couldn’t get out of your head, but rather his odd observation. There was no way it could be true. One drive to the hospital didn’t suddenly mean Mingi was head over heels for you. If you went by that logic, you’d assume his friend liked you too, considering the tall man was right beside you. It didn’t matter that five, ten or fifteen people told you the same thing, until Song Mingi himself didn’t come out and say it, then it simply wasn’t true. 

If anyone asked why you ate in empty classrooms on the other side of campus or studied on the rooftop, you’d come up with a good enough excuse that sounded believable. Because you’d never admit to be hiding from a certain hockey player who held the fearful answer to your doubts.

Everything was surprisingly playing in your favor which was about time. Your days on campus were never spent alone as Dasom or Keeho kept you company, even if it meant running late to their own classes or missing out on lunch with their classmates. The injury that was bad luck turned to good luck as you had no reason to go to the ice rink, the one place you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him or a very attractive figure skater for that record either.

It was the fifth day of Operation avoid Song Mingi at all costs and so far everything was going as planned. The lamppost was nowhere in sight and you willed yourself to relax on the walk home from a late night study session with Keeho and Dasom at the library.

“You can’t run from him forever,” said Dasom from beside you, arms locked and shoulders touching.

The red head disagreed with your tactic the moment you explained the plan. In great old Dasom fashion she hit you with a quote of some poet you couldn’t bother to remember the name if, it went something like; all that is hidden in snow, comes out in thaw.

“Good thing I’m not running, now am I?”

Keeho walked behind you guys and chewed on a strawberry twizzler. A loud snort cut through the air.

“Hiding, running, fleeing, you name it, babes.”

If it weren’t for Dasom’s hold on you, you’d deliver a punch to his stomach or kick his shin.

“Oh, fuck you, horseface!”

Dramatic as his zodiac sign, he gasped loudly and called for reinforcement. “Did you hear that, sugar? She just cursed at me!”

Dasom giggled at Keeho’s banter but her expression fell at the figure outside your apartment complex.

“What’s your plan then? Because I’m certain that’s him,” she pointed at Mingi who leaned against the brick wall, “leaning against our apartment and oh– is he looking at us?”

Fast as lightning, you whipped your head forward and immediately met eyes with the man you had been trying so hard to evade. 

“Mm-mm, not at us, Dae-Dae. He’s looking at her which reminds me, Jiung said he needed help with his essay. You coming?” Keeho asked, not giving her time to answer or you to protest as he snatched Dasom’s wrist and began walking in the direction of his friend’s house.

The call of their names died in your throat and as you moved to follow them, Mingi quickly pushed off the wall and stopped before you, jaw set and eyes hard, staring daggers at you behind his fringe.

He looked different, was your first thought, but there was no literal change to his appearance. His hair was still that two-colored tone and the clothes were the same — a jacket thrown over his team hoodie and baggy pants — the rings on his fingers didn’t look new and you even recognized the skull shaped one. He had a matching bag slung over his shoulder that was half-way open and full of hockey equipment, the only thing missing was his stick.

Glancing back at him, the  black horn rimmed glasses perched on his nose caught you off guard. Such a small detail that made him look so different yet the same and it was enough to send your heart soaring, badum-ing a tenfold faster than usual. The sudden change in temperature felt as if the seasons were filtering abruptly, jumping from winter to late-summer in seconds, and the thick sweater beneath your jacket was starting to itch. You didn’t care if it was minus ten degrees outside, you needed it off.

“Aren’t you going to run?”

Mingi quite literally snapped you out of your daydream. “I– Uhm… I’m sorry, what?”

“No, I just thought you’d be bolting the second you saw me as you’ve been doing the past week.”

Mingi raised a brow at your lack of response, and chuckled out a dry laugh. It dawned on you that your five day streak of avoiding him was only successful because he let it happen. Mingi was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew you were hiding from him the moment he couldn’t find you in any of your usual spots and even more so after Intak — a mutual friend of Mingi and Keeho — couldn’t get any answers out of the English literature major. Deciding to be kind, he didn’t pressure you at first. Acknowledging the fact that you maybe needed time, just like he needed weeks ago, he granted you that as it was the least he could do.

He eyed the slingshot around your arm, and his exterior softened as he remembered the last time you spoke.

“How’s your elbow?”

Never the one to keep up with his hot and cold behavior, you sighed at the switch from passive-aggressive to worrisome questions.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded, completely disregarding his concern.

“I’m here to see you.”

As much as your body tingled at the sight of him, you really didn’t want to talk. No matter what he had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. How silly of you to think he’d let you slip by after a week of radio silence.

“Move.”

“I know everyone bends at your command, princess, but not me.”

Pink and red camellias bloomed in your stomach at the title, but you refused to let them grow out on your skin and mirror your internal feelings.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” you gritted through your teeth.

“Then what do you call it when you do an one-eighty whenever we lock eyes across the school yard, princess?”

“I’m not up for this, Mingi.”

Once again you tried to move past him only for Mingi to step in your way.

“And you think I am? I wouldn’t be freezing my ass off on a Tuesday night for fun.”

The guy treated you like shit since the first time he saw you skating, always finding new ways to get under your skin and turn your day from good to bad with just one word. Mingi knew he wasn’t worthy of your time and the least he could do was grant you the wish of leaving you alone. But he also knew if he did that, if he walked away, he wouldn’t get another chance to say what was on his mind.

Giving up wasn’t something Mingi was used to and even in the toughest of times, he always gave it his all, be it on the rink or daily struggles. Yet seeing the options of running or staying tear you apart had him considering doing just what he’d never done. With an almost defeated sigh, he stuffed his frozen hands in the pockets of his jacket. 

“If you really want me to go, say the words and I’ll leave.” 

You licked your lips and when Mingi thought you’d cave in, you walked past him and unlocked the door to the building. He closed his eyes and mentally cursed his stupid mouth for offering such stupid ideas. Of course you’d choose anything beside hearing him out. It was quite funny, you were always running when it came to him, weren’t you?

“You coming?”

The question startled him out of his disappointed thoughts and as he turned around, you were still there, arm holding the door open and lips pursed as if you were second guessing your decision. Just in case that was true, he quickly muttered out an affirmative response and scrambled through the opening.

The awkward silence followed you on the elevator ride up to your floor and into the apartment. Everything about this was awkward, thinking back to the party, the declined kiss, your fight, and the trip to the hospital.

“Nice place,” he said and whether it was to cut through the silence or a genuine compliment you’d never know.

“Dasom’s in charge of the interior.” 

A vague image of a girl with red curls crossed his mind and the cherry curtains, and the identical fruit pillow told him as much. 

“Yeah, I can see that.”

You dropped your bag somewhere between the multiple shoes by the doorway and leaned against the wall in the living room, arms crossed and face stoic. Mingi stood in the middle of the living room, his jacket still on and ears visibly red from the cold outside.

“You wanted to talk, right? Then talk. Explain why you’re here.” 

You didn’t bother sitting down, the faster you got the conversation started, the sooner he could leave and you could jump in bed, hopefully forgetting the whole interaction. Mingi copied your stance and raised both of his brows, the stupidly handsome smirk coming through.

“You already know… why have you been ignoring me?” 

“Not this again. I’m not, when will you get that through your thick skull?”

“Tell me what I did.”

You remained silent at his persistence. Blood slowly boiling and heart slamming against your ribcage. It was hard to keep your composure, especially when Mingi knew all the right buttons to press. If you didn’t keep your jaw shut it would just be a reenactment of the hockey game and you were not up for another screaming fit. 

“Was it the snarky comments?” 

He took a step forward. 

“I doubt it’s because I call you princess…” 

He advanced again.

“Maybe you’re angry I crashed your date with Mr. Perfect?” 

You could feel the buzzing heat from his body as he almost closed the distance between you. Slowly and as gently as his limbs allowed him to, he trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, slightly pushing it upward to peer into your eyes. As if searching for discomfort or disgust at his touch on your skin. You could feel his warm breath over your face and you forced yourself not to glance down at his plump lips.

His voice fell barely above a whisper. “Or was it because I didn’t kiss you at that party?”

It snapped you out of the daze and you pushed at his chest with all your might, and he voluntarily moved back, content with breaking through your strong facade and mindful of your elbow.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“An asshole who doesn’t run away from his problems. Someone who goes out of his way to help others. Who puts his pride aside to see what the fuck is going on with you!”

“You want to know what’s wrong, huh? Fine! I’ll fucking tell you.”

Now you were the one moving towards him. Eyes burning and tongue twitching with each syllable rolling off it.

“I’m not mad you didn’t kiss me, I’m mad I allowed myself to be led on by you.” 

You dug your finger in his chest, hard enough to sting and leave a crescent mark beneath.

“Giving me your jacket and walking me home, not once but twice, like a gentleman-wannabe.” 

Another jab to his body.

“Saying you’d come to my competition which you obviously couldn’t care less about!” 

And another.

“Only for you to blow up in my face and call me shallow and selfish over something I still don’t know what! But that’s not all, no, because after new year’s you come back a completely different person. Being polite and nice as if you don’t hate me, scooping me up like a damsel in distress, brushing past Hyunjin who was more than capable of helping me, acting like a saint in front of your friend and the cherry on top! Claiming you wouldn’t do all that if I was just some girl! 

“But I’ve already been over this once, Song, and I’m not about to be fooled twice, you hear me?” An obnoxiously big smile stretched across your lips. “So no, I’m not mad you didn’t kiss me.”

So much for not throwing a screaming fit.

Mingi wrapped his hand around your wrist closest to his body and the grip was the complete opposite of his face. Soft and warm, and delicate while his jaw was clenched, and eyes hard and piercing. The awkward silence from before transformed a tension you could feel with every fiber of your body. You breathed heavily and your heart worked rapidly compared to Mingi, who didn’t seem to be in need of extra air.

“You think I led you on?”

Out of all the things you said, that was the only thing he remembered?

“This was a waste of time–”

“Did you think… I led you on?”

His hand on your wrist was cold compared to your boiling skin.

“I know you did,” you finally breathed out. 

The admission was like a hockey puck catapulted straight into his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. Swallowing thickly, Mingi flicked his attention down to your wrist, not once daring to meet your eyes. He huffed out a laugh of disbelief. 

“I didn’t give you my jacket to win you over or walk you home to get in your pants. I did it because I’d go batshit fucking crazy if anything happened to you.” 

It didn’t matter that five, ten or fifteen people told you the same thing because no amount could measure with Mingi’s final word. The air in the room thinned out and your throat ran dry. Your pulse was louder than your thoughts and the angry heat settled on your cheeks in a warm embarrassment. His hand slipped up to your hand, thumb locking in your palm while the rest of his fingers wrapped around the back of your hand.

“And I went to your competition,” he finally said. “I dressed up and bought you flowers and I sat through the whole number and when you fell down, I just wanted to scoop you up in my arms and tell you…” He paused, seemingly catching himself on something you weren’t supposed to know.

“I waited til you were done. I’ve never put that much time and thought into my appearance before, not on dates or big events. The only reason you didn’t see me was because you were too occupied with him.”

He took a deep breath and you realized while you were anxious of running into him at campus, Mingi was anxious of never getting the chance to share his side with you. 

“And I didn’t like it. I didn’t like seeing his hands on you or how you turned to him for comfort and I fucking hated how good he was at it, so I left…”

Mingi slid his hand further down so your palms were glued together and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You know, it took me a year and something to make you smile, and you weren’t even sober for it, but I know that prick probably made you feel better in five seconds just by showing up. No flowers or anything and well, I already lost then and there, so I could only think of taking my shit and running.”

His fingers moved between yours and your whole body calmed down at the intimate contact. Hot and boiling blood simmered out into steady waves. 

“I was angry, completely livid, for letting myself think I even had a…”

You waited for him to finish but the rest of the sentence never came out. Taking matters into your own hands, you steered the conversation towards a topic you were far more interested in than whatever it was he couldn’t tell you.

“And you yelled at me for… what?”

“I never expected you to show up. I didn’t even know you knew there was a game, I mean, you never showed up to all the other thirty matches so, yeah.” Mingi looked away as the guilt took over his entire being. “I was told that it was the most important game of the season and that there’d be a dozen scouts watching. My nerves were skyrocketing from the get go, and please believe me when I say that seeing you made everything silent. And I mean everything.

“But then I got so, so angry when I saw him beside you holding that stupid sign and the memories from your competition rolled in and like the cherry on top, Chan knew what to say to tip me over the edge. The last thing I needed was you acting smart with me, too.”

You could handle a lot of things; like unimportant people being jealous over your achievements or praying for your downfall. What you couldn’t stand, on the other hand, was when people who were in the wrong took out their frustration on you (or when Keeho and Dasom were being targeted to get to you, but that’s a story for another time). 

Not to say Mingi was as important as Dasom or Keeho, but at some point, you considered him something akin to a friend. To hear him speak to you in that way hurt equally as much as when your mom made that one backhanded comment about your appearance or when your dad forced you to stop being emotional and then saying something along the lines of it being in your nature because of your gender. The hurt and sadness you buried all those weeks ago resurfaced in the form of red-scorching anger, and it would take a lot more than a pathetic story to make up for it. 

Tearing your hand from his, you hissed. “It doesn’t explain where you think you got the right to call me things.”

Mingi stayed quiet, appalled at your switch in behavior and you were happy giving him the taste of his own medicine.

“Got nothing to say? Is that it? You make such a big deal out of us not talking and now that you’re here, there’s nothing else to say. What? Did you think I’d just forgive you and go on with us being whatever the fuck we are? Talk is cheap, Mingi, has no one ever fucking told you so?”

As he kept his lips sealed, you sighed in disappointment. He came all the way and stayed in the freezing cold to spew his bullshit, but when push came to shove he’d rather be silent.

“You know where the door is.” 

You barely managed to get three steps in when his hand clasped around your healthy elbow, literally pulling your body against his and hands maneuvering to hold you by your waist. Noses almost touching and eyes reflecting a thousand emotions, you nearly caved then and there.

“I came here to make things right,” he said calmly.

“Fuck you. You can’t come running with coffee every time you fuck up.”

A strawberry frappuccino slid in front of you and popped your thoughts like a dart would a balloon. Mingi hung his jacket around a chair opposite you and sat down, much like in the library. He avoided your gaze and took a long sip of his green tea mocha. You didn’t touch your drink despite it being your favorite — you pushed the thought of it being a coincidence or not to the back of your mind — and continued staring at him. He eventually faced you and nearly choked on the beverage. 

“Why are you staring at me?” 

“I’m admiring your act.”

“What act?”

“This goody-two shoe thingy you’re trying to pull off.”

He chuckled and looked down at his drink, fingers tracing circles on the paper logo. 

“You’ve really got your head way in on that. There is no act. I said it earlier, I just felt bad for getting you thrown out.” The cup was left alone and his eyes found yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

You huffed at the half assed-apology and tried to break free from him. That was an immediate failure as Mingi didn’t let up on his hold.

“What do you want me to do? What can I do to make everything good between us?”

“Maybe start with a real fucking apology.”

Eyebrows drawn together and lips in a pout, he searched your face for any sign of sarcasm. “I just said I’m sorry. So what is it you really want of me?”

Your eyes fixated on the wall behind him as you roared at him to get out. It was one thing to insult you outside, but doing it while inside your apartment? That was just right out disrespectful and you were done with that behavior. Apparently, Mingi was too, because he didn’t budge and forced you to look him in the eyes.

“What I want from you? Last time I checked you came to me, not the other way around, bastard. Now see yourself out.”

You were surprisingly calmer than you initially thought you’d be and all throwable objects in the apartment were still in their original place. The anger you locked away for this specific moment didn’t come out in an explosion, but more like a controlled fire, growing bigger and bigger the more oxygen it inhales.

Would it be anyone else, they’d respect your choice and be on their merry way, but Mingi rarely did what told. All the softness in his features disappeared and he tried a more sharper approach.

“Look at me and say it again. Tell me to leave, to fuck off and I’ll never bother you again.”

The words were right there, waiting to be flung out in the open, but you just couldn’t spit them out. It was something Mingi took notice of and immediately used against you.

“You can’t do it, can you? Got that boyfriend wrapped around your finger and it isn’t enough, you need something more. Princesses are never satisfied.”

Through your gritted teeth, you growled, “What fucking boyfriend?”

That was all Mingi needed to hear to smash his lips against yours. His large hands pushed against your lower back and pulled you against his front. In return your hand squeezed his biceps and frantically made its way up to his neck where your fingers got tangled in the multi-colored strands. It was enough for Mingi to know you wanted this as much as he did, because there wasn’t a doubt in mind that you wouldn’t knee him in his balls if you truly felt anything but desire and lust. 

The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was dirty and messy and unexpected with teeth clashing and tongues hungry for dominance that neither of you wanted to give up. Compared to all your prior make outs, this was by far the most pleasurable one yet and as much as you screamed at yourself to let go, you thrived feeling his chiseled body against yours. The moment cut short as Mingi rested his forehead against yours, a string of saliva connecting your bruised lips. To keep himself sane he tore away from the sight and stared into your eyes.

“I need to know… I need to know you want this… want me as much as I want you.”

“Mingi-ya.” Your breathless moan sent shards of pleasure to his cock. “I want you.”

He wasted no time in hoisting you up and you complied by wrapping your legs around his slim waist, a perfect position for his hands to rest on the curve of your ass. The feel of your breasts pushed against his had him humming in delight that vibrated down your throat as you met for another kiss. This one was a lot less violent, but as feverish and needy as the first. The unexpected squeeze of your ass surprised you and your lips parted to let a gasp out to which his tongue entered to explore your hot mouth. Mingi’s eyes rolled to the back of his mind at the thought of your beautiful lips wrapped around his member, choking and drawing tears as you struggled to take him all the way.

“Bed–ruh, bedroom,” you moaned through the kiss and tugged at his hair to catch his attention.

Mingi realized he didn’t know where your room was and parted from you although every non-rational thought in his head told him not to.

“Where?” 

You took the chance to press butterfly kisses against the side of his neck, working your way up to his jaw, nipping, licking and sucking on his soft skin. The sighs of pleasure resonating through the empty apartment boosted your ego and you couldn’t suppress the smirk at the thought of Mingi, big bad Song Mingi, sounding so flustered beneath your touch.

“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to bend you over the couch and take you right here.”

The threat was more of a reward than a punishment, but a vague image of a certain red hair popped by and you loved Dasom too much to put her through potential trauma of seeing her best friend getting — what probably would be — the best pounding of your life. 

“First door on the left.”

Mingi struggled with finding your room as your mouth decorated his neck with beautiful plum covered marks and worked as a great distraction. Eventually — after walking into the bathroom and then the small pantry — he stepped into the correct space and plopped down on the bed with you seated on his lap. If it weren’t for aching dick he’d have you on your knees and hand behind your back as you took his length. As a response you grinded against him and his palms found your ass again, but this time instead of squeezing, he guided your movement and it extracted long moans out of you both. In the hazy mist of pleasure and lust the faint yet heated voice of Mingi echoed in your head.

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the color of his jersey.  He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn in pain.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking at me, you hear? I’m fucking done!”

As if burned by his touch you pushed against his chest with enough force to knock him down on the mattress. Mingi grew stiff at your sudden outburst. The fear of having done something wrong, something to upset you, crawled up his throat in the form of bile and the feel in his legs was abruptly cut off. 

On the other side of the room, your heart was beating hard against your ribcage. Mingi was dangerous, you realized. The moment his lips were on yours, you surrendered to the satisfying feeling of bliss and it wasn’t like you were new to the act of intimacy, but with everything that happened between you, you needed time to collect your thoughts. Because getting tangled in bed with Mingi while you were still hurting wasn’t going to help you in the long run and you needed something more than kisses to make up for it all.

Mingi slowly sat back up and breathed out an air of relief as you looked anything but panic stricken. He ignored your slightly bruised neck and spit covered lips, and kept his eyes glued to yours.

“Are you– Did I– uhm…” 

He took another breath to collect his thoughts. Anxiety attacks weren’t foreign to him and if you were having one now — or a panic attack — he’d rather approach it with ease than scare you up even more.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah… I just… I can’t, uh– I can’t stop thinking about what… you said back then. After the game. It’s been like, what? Weeks and I’m still hung up on that and I–”

“Please, stop.”

The soft plea was enough for you to clamp your mouth shut. Words poured out of him quicker than he could form a coherent sentence in his mind and he was sure he was making a fool of himself. 

“It’s right, I mean you’re right. We should talk about that or, well, I need to talk and you listen, if you want.”

At your nod, Mingi gently patted the space beside him and while you made your way over he took one of your pillows and perched it over his groin. Your legs were crossed in a pretzel position as you faced him with your whole body. The anxious tap of his foot against the floor was slowly driving you crazy, but you still kept silent, realizing the conversation was probably as hard for him as for you.

“I’m sorry,” he started and wrung his hands together. “For everything. I’m sorry I yelled at you and I’m sorry that I made you cry and most importantly, I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Mingi looked up at you and if the raw sincerity woven with his voice wasn’t enough, then the watery shine reflecting in his eyes made up for it.

“I… I’m sorry for a lot of things and I know… I know that– I know that my words aren’t nearly enough to make up for what I said, but I need you to know that everything I’ve said, from start to finish, I never meant any of it and if I could, I’d take it back in a heartbeat.”

The cracking sound of his heart echoed through the room at your dejected expression. 

“You really hurt me, Mingi.”

“I know and I’m so, so, sorry, princess.”

The pet name made your throat grow tighter, and you blinked back tears, but they were persistent and eventually trickled down your cheeks. 

All those sleepless nights spent with thoughts occupied by your future confrontation weren’t anything like you imagined it to be. It was supposed to be explosive, harsh, and filled with pain, where you’d get to hurt him back tenfold and leave him in tears. Instead, it was the complete opposite and Mingi couldn’t think of a more agonizing punishment than to see you cry. Each shake of your shoulders was a slap to his face while your small sniffles probed at his cochlea. What really tore his insides apart, were you trying to stifle your sobs, your uninjured hand clamped over your mouth as if you were embarrassed to be vulnerable in front of him. 

“Come here,” he said, to which you shook your head and covered the rest of your face as the tears multiplied. 

Mingi swallowed, but it didn’t help the tightness in his throat. It felt like he’d eaten buckets of sand for breakfast, lunch and dinner. His hand itched to reach out and anchor you back to him. He wanted to reassure you with gentle pats to your head and slow caresses of your knee. Feeling completely helpless, he just watched until your cries were nothing more but soundless hiccups. As much as he wanted you in his hold, he also didn’t want to cross your boundaries, something he was apparently very good at. You were already hurting enough as it was, you didn’t need him pressuring you into things you didn’t want or felt uncomfortable with.

“Please,” he whispered out in a last attempt to offer you some solace in the form of physical contact and you, not knowing better than to defy him, shook your head in retaliation.

“I… I think… it’s best if you leave,” you barely made out through sniffles and a dry throat. “I just– I, uhm… I need time to… think– or well, process all of this and you being here. It won’t– I can’t think properly with you here so please, just…”

As you trailed off, leaving the sentence with an open ending that was self explanatory, Mingi physically felt his soul fade to nothing, leaving him hollow like an empty seashell. 

“You need some time,” he finished for you with an understanding tone and you didn’t know whether to feel relief or angst. 

Being in his arms brought a sense of security and the kisses he planted along your skin made you feel wanted. The universe would deem you a liar if you said you didn’t want to crawl back in his lap and fall asleep to the gentle sound of his beating heart. You knew very well that if you caved in to your desire, your heart and your pride would meet in a joust.

“Yes.”

Mingi didn’t dare to ask for how long, being well aware everyone functioned differently and moved at their own pace. The non-existent hourglass could stay upside down with its endless sand pouring for all eternity and while Mingi was willing to wait for however long you needed, he was scared your feelings for him would never go past the friendly mark on the thermometer. Left with no other choice, but to give you exactly what you were asking for, Mingi listened to your wish.

“I’ll give you all the time you need.”

Wolves were known for their fierce loyalty and being the symbol of freedom, resourcefulness and adaptability. When in danger, they flee. When in battle, they fight. Other than the fact that both choices began on the same letter, they also had another thing in common. Neither was an act of surrender. Like a wolf, Mingi wasn’t familiar with yielding and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get a taste of it now. He was done with handing out empty apologies, it was time to show you what he truly felt, preferably so before someone else beat him to it. Mingi wasn’t going down without putting up a fight, and he wasn’t one to back down from getting a little dirty if needed. 

“But don’t think I’m giving up on you, princess. You can use your time thinking and when you're ready I’ll be there. Till then, I’ll show you exactly how sorry I am.” 

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