#i hope he shoots for a magazine there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finniestoncrane · 5 months

Note

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin��… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

#fallout #fallout amazon #if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

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leclerc-hs · 6 months

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can't get you outta my head - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends to lovers!) summary: in which you and charles are in the same friend group and find solace in one another OR you and charles fuck and can’t forget about it warnings: smut under the cut! oral (f-receiving!), outdoor sex, p in v, angst, pining, badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 5.4k! (lengthy) author’s note: IN HONOR OF HITTING 1,600 FOLLOWERS I AM POSTING THIS TODAY!!!! double-postings today!!! i wrote this SOOO fast so sorry if there’s any mistakes. loved writing it tho and i know i was going to make it more enemies originally but making him softer and cutesy just felt right for now. i can always do another one if you guys want!! just let me know what you think! love hearing from you guys!!! xoxo

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BENEATH THE BRILLIANT canopy of the sun’s golden embrace, you recline comfortably upon the plush cushions of the lounge chairs, creating a sanctuary of comfort amidst the vast expanse of sand. Around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and textures unfold: vibrant beach towels strewn around carelessly, the glistening ocean stretching endlessly before you, and the verdant palm trees swaying in rhythmic cadence against the bright blue sky.

The sound of the ocean’s embrace upon the sandy shoreline murmurs in the background, a subtle undercurrent beneath the symphony of voices of your friends that fills the air. Your gaze drifts towards a cluster of your friends cavorting in the embrace of the water. Their figures, silhouetted against the shimmering expanse of the ocean, exude a carefree vitality. Like playful spirits unleashed, they tumble and wrestle amidst the crash of the waves, their laughter echoing.

You smile softly listening to a few of the girl’s banter over last night’s drunken escapades, flipping a page of the cheap magazine you purchased earlier.

“Joris a pratiquement mange de la merde hier soir.” Joris practically ate shit last night. Your best friend, also Joris’s girlfriend, to the left of you says in between laughter, as you all careen over with a laugh.

“Au moins, il va bien.” At least he’s fine. You say with a soft smile, turning another page of your magazine. “Can we talk about Antoine shooting a firecracker out of his ass?” The words spark an immediate eruption of laughter, tears threaten to fall from your eyes from the sheer hilarity of the memory.

“Qu’est-ce qui est si drôle?” What’s so funny?

You turn your head and find yourself locking eyes with a pair of captivating green. In that moment, your heart skips a small beat, and a soft smile graces your lips as you gaze warmly at him. “Making fun of Joris and Antoine, bien sûr.” Of course.

A smile plays at the corner of his pink lips, and you can’t help but envy their perfect hue. You can’t help but notice the subtle dimples that grace Charles’ cheeks as he smiles. Did he always have those? With a casual grace, he raises a hand to scratch the side of his stubble before reaching for a towel casually draped over your lounge chair. As he leans over, droplets of water cascade onto your warm skin, a gentle reminder of the ocean’s embrace. You steal a moment to admire the bronzed glow of his skin, the sunlight dancing upon the small beads of water that cling to his sculpted muscles with a tantalizing allure.

A peculiar aura envelops the relationship between you and Charles. You didn’t speak often, although you were in the same friend group, and have known each other for forever. However, in the recent weeks, a shift has occurred. Perhaps it’s the shared experience of a newfound singleness has drawn you closer together, prompting conversations to flow more freely than ever before.

A delicate blush creeps onto your cheeks, a fleeting flush of warmth that you hope goes unnoticed against the backdrop of your sun-kissed skin. You feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you as Charles’s fingers brush lightly against your shoulders while the grabs the towel, igniting a subtle spark between you two.

“Allons-nous au club ce soir?” Are we going to the club tonight? One of your guy friends asks, sinking onto a sandy towel with a groan as he collapses onto the soft grains.

For a moment, maybe a few seconds, silence hangs in the air. As if each person is lost in contemplation, weighing the prospect of the evening’s plans. Then, in a synchronous chorus, a resounding chorus of “yes” erupts from the group, breaking the silence with unanimous enthusiasm.

You remain silent, immersed in the pages of a trash magazine, each turn revealing scandalous tales that undoubtedly blur the lines between fact and fiction. Charles watches you intently from his position in the beach chair across from you, though not directly opposite. Positioned slightly to the right, his gaze lingers on you with a subtle curiosity, his expression betraying a hint of contemplation as he observes you amidst the circle of friends. Always in your own world.

“Lovie, tu participes?” Are you in? Your best friend beside you seems to notice your lack of response. Her arms stretch across the gap between your chairs, and she gently squeezes your wrist, a silent gesture of reassurance and solidarity.

Lovie. You don’t exactly know why you got that nickname, but it stuck. And it carried over to most of the friend group calling you that since childhood.

You lifted your head up, the sun beading down on you causing your eyes to slightly crinkle, as you gave her a look that said duh!

Your friends smile widens as she claps her hands together, her excitement palpable as she sits up from her previously relaxed position. Her enthusiasm is infectious, casting a warm glow over the group as they all eagerly cheer in happiness with her. “Mon dieu!” Thank God! It was a squeal of relief. “Maybe you’ll meet a sexy man and fall in love and have his babies so you can forget all about that loser.”

Your heart clenches at the mere mention of your ex. The smile on your lip’s falters just slightly, but you quickly regain composure, determined not to show a hint of sadness surface while on vacation with your friends. With a subtle effort, you smooth away the brief flicker of vulnerability, masking it beneath a façade of cheerful resilience.

You roll your eyes, “Nous verrons.” We’ll see. Your tone carries a hint of mystery as you look back into your magazine, letting the conversation of your friends flow into a different direction.

“Es-tu sûre que tu devrais en prendre unautre?” Are you sure you should have another? Joris says into your ear, making sure you’re able to hear him over the pulse of the music, his arm slung over the back of the booth behind you. You lean into his body, a drunken smile pulled on your lips.

He harbored a slight concern for you. While you were his girlfriend’s best friend, your friendship dated back to childhood, long before his relationship with her, and he held you in high regard. His care for you ran deep, and ever since your break-up, he knows that you haven’t been the same.

“Arrête de t’inquiéter pour moi.” Stop worrying about me. You shove his shoulder gently, before pointing to your best friend on the dance floor. “Inquiéte-toi pour elle.” Worry about her.

You let out a soft laugh as you witness Joris’s eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his girlfriend standing on the stage. With a knowing smile, you begin to slide out of the booth with intent to make your way to the bar, sensing the need for a fresh drink to accompany the unfolding spectacle.

Before you can even slide out of the booth, a fresh drink—scratch that, a refill of your drink, is placed in front of you. Your gaze follows the masculine hand holding the glass, adorned with an expensive watch at the wrist, tracing its path up the arm until your gaze meets Charles’ intense stare. His eyes, dark and captivating, lock onto yours, already filled with questions and a silent understanding.

You slide back over, silently signaling him to sit beside you. As he eases into the spot beside you, the proximity of his body sends a shiver down your spin, the heat radiating from him igniting a primal longing within you. Your bare skin tingles with anticipation as his presence fills the air with an electric charge, a silent dance of desire playing out between you in the dimly lit confines of the booth.

In the midst of the pulsating club music, words between you two remained scarce. Yet, you both found solace in the quiet companionship that enveloped you both. The energy of the club swirled around you, but the warmth of each other’s presence, you felt a profound sense of ease settle, much like a comforting blanket.

It wasn’t unnoticeable to the rest of the friend group. In fact, it was very noticeable. The way you and Charles seemed to find a connection with one another, especially post break-ups.

It’s not that you were never friends, you just were never as close. So it came as a slight surprise to a few of your friends as they picked up the little changes that were made.

Like when Charles refills your drinks for you. Or when he notices that there is coconut in your meal, which you’re very allergic to, and sends it back to the kitchen.

Like when you remind him to put on sunscreen, knowing he tends to burn easily. Or when you find yourselves sitting out by the fire at night, long after everyone went to sleep, just talking about the most random things.

“The CGI in that movie was terrible!”

“It’s a classic! You can’t hate a classic!”

“That doesn’t make the CGI better!”

“I’ll have you know I’m a culinary expert.”

“Charles, I’ve known you for forever. Don’t lie!”

“I’m an innovator! Who else could turn pasta into charcoal with such ease?”

No matter the topic at hand, you and Charles always found yourselves engulfed in laughter, the gentle sound filling the air with warmth and camaraderie.

You didn’t want sadness to cloud your vacation, but sometimes emotions have a way of washing over you like relentless waves. One of the evenings, while your friends made plans to dine out, you made the wise choice to stay in. Although you didn’t want to miss out, you felt that you were not in the right mindset to be out with everyone. Some protested your decision, expressing concern, but you assured them that you would be fine on your own and ready to party it up all day tomorrow.

Charles shot you a funny look as he slid his hands into one of his pockets, leaning casually against the kitchen archway. His white linen shirt, barely buttoned and snug against his muscles, accentuated his tan, making it seem even more vibrant against the stark contrast of the fabric. A single glance from him stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you as you perched on the bar-stool chair, clad in nothing but a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a well-worn t-shirt. It was your ex-boyfriend’s shirt, a garment you should have long discarded, but its comfort proved too irresistible to part with. Despite the pang of guilt that tugged at your conscience, you found solace in its familiar embrace, a reminder of the past you couldn’t quite let go of yet.

The villa you currently stayed in was beautiful. Its whitewashed walls and wrought-iron accents blended modern and luxury all in one. Inside, the warm glow of the setting sunbathed the spacious rooms, casting an ethereal orange hue over the abundance of white and wood-colored furniture. As the click of the front door echoed through the villa, the chatter of your friends faded into near silence as they departed for dinner, leaving you alone in complete silence.

You find yourself eventually nestled in the corner of the oversized couch, cocooned in the warmth of a fluffy blanket draped over your body. With the television remote in hand, you flip through the channels, searching for something to capture your interest. Nothing quite grabs your attention, until you stumble upon a cheesy rom-com you’ve seen hundreds of times.

Lost in a trance, you’re oblivious to the world around you, the gentle breeze whispering through the open windows. The creak of the front door opening barely registers, and it’s only when Charles’ silhouette materializes in the archway beside the TV that you snap back to reality. A soft smile tugs at the corners of Charles’ lips as he gazes upon you, nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. His heart skips a beat at the sight of you, at the sight of your eyes looking at him with such softness.

“Que fais-tu de retour?” What are you doing back?

He shrugs nonchalantly, pushing off from the wall’s archway and making his way toward you. With an easy grace, he plops down beside you, propping one leg up on another couch cushion and allowing his shoulder and head to half-lean against you.

You both settle in a comfortable silence, the sound of the movie filling the air around you with a comforting ambiance.

“Penses-tu jamais que tu le surpasseras?” Do you ever think you’ll get over him?

The words send your stomach into a frenzy of somersaults, and a tightness forms in your throat, making it difficult to swallow.

You don’t answer immediately, instead you stare ahead at the television, your fingers fumbling with the fabric of the blanket nervously.

“Je l’espère.” I hope so.

His eyes are solemn as you look at him. “Parfois,” Sometimes. He begins, straightening his posture so he can fully look at you. “I think I’ll never get over her.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and though they sting a bit, you understand. You share the same sentiment.

“Mais toi,” But you. His hand reaches to yours, the one fumbling with your thigh. His eyes dart between both of yours, like he’s struggling to formulate his next words. “You just,” He starts before squeezing your hand in his. “You just make my days feel easier.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s trying to say. “My pain, my heartache, just disappears whenever I’m with you.” Your voice is soft as you speak the words. The truth of them daunting.

“Sometimes I just wish I could turn my emotions off.” You say, unwrapping the blanket from your body, so that it only sits underneath you now. “Like I could just fuck someone and move on.”

Charles’ eyes widen slightly as the word ‘fuck’ slips past your lips. He nearly lets out an audible groan, his eyes tracing the contours of your collarbones peeking out from the oversized shirt that slips tantalizingly of your shoulder.

He licks his lips, swallowing a pronounced gulp, as his eyes trail back to your face.

“Yeah.”

You could feel the tension in the air, like the both of you were considering fucking each other here and now. Charles couldn’t escape the thoughts of spreading you out on the cushions right here, spreading your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

As he locks eyes with you, you feel a flutter in your stomach, your thighs clenching involuntarily as his gaze lingers on your lips. You part your lips to speak, but before you can utter another word, a loud burst of commotion erupts through the front door. No doubt your drunken friends, clamoring for the fire pit.

You and Charles find yourselves in an awkward dance since then. Not too awkward, but the idea of you fucking each other escaped neither of your minds.

It was honestly twisted. The fact that Charles couldn’t stop picturing what you would look like beneath him, what your moans would sound like in his ear. He had fucked his fist twice to the though of you since he even heard the word ‘fuck’ slip past your lips on the couch the other night. It was honestly pathetic.

You couldn’t handle it either it seems. You found your eyes lingering on Charles way longer than necessary. The flex of his muscles as he enjoys a morning workout by the villa’s pool, the small smiles he gives you from across the room, and the small touches he gives as he walks by you has you driving yourself up a fucking wall.

So, when your friends decide to head out for a spa day, you and Charles hang back sitting across from one another a tad too far apart on the outdoor couch for it to be normal. It was as if you needed the space to stop from jumping each other’s bones.

The skimpy red bikini you wore did little to ease Charles’ thoughts. But he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the first time in weeks he isn’t thinking about his ex-girlfriend. No, he’s too engrossed in the idea of fucking you. Hearing your sweet little moans he just knows you would have. Feeling your smooth skin beneath the pads of his fingertips.

Charles could feel himself harden just by glancing at you lounging comfortably on the outdoor couch, the clouds covering the sun engulfing you guys in a moment of shade.

Across the couch from him, you tried to do everything but acknowledge Charles’ longing stare. But you couldn’t. Your body was all tense, in need of a release.

“Charles, will you—”

Before you could even finish the sentence, Charles was standing over your figure on the couch. His hardened cock visibly noticeable in his short swimsuit. The muscles of his thighs flexed before you, as he visibly gulped at the vision of your breasts spilling out of the top.

“Assieds-toi droit.” Sit up. He murmurs softly, his voice carrying a gentle command as he shifts, prompting you to straighten your posture.

Was this really about to happen? You really hoped so.

It was as if Charles can see the desire in your eyes, answering the question of if you wanted this in his head almost instantly.

“Est-ce que je peux t’embrasser?” Can I kiss you? His thumb toyed with your bottom lip, tracing it as he licked his own.

You nodded your head before his lips pressed down onto yours, capturing them in a sweet embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly near your scalp as he deepened the kiss, igniting a surge of warmth and longing between you.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pressing it hotly against yours. He pulls away for a moment, still standing above your sitting figure, as he takes in your blown out pupils.

“Ça a un gout si doux.” Tastes so sweet. His hand remains in your hair, holding your head in place to look at him. His eyes stare at your sightly swollen lips, a clench of need forming in the pit of his stomach.

He falls to his knees before you on the couch, kneeling between your two legs, as his other hand presses against your chest, forcing you to lean back against the cushions of the couch. The sun peeped through the clouds momentarily, allowing you to drink in the sight of just how light his eyes were.

His thumb grazes your bikini cladded core, rubbing light circles in a teasing manner. The pressure of his thumb wasn’t enough, but it was everything you needed.

He looked at you from between your legs, a smirk on his face like he knew just how crazy he was driving you. It was an image you never wanted to forget.

“Touch me.” You begged, a breathy moan leaving your lips as his thumb pressed harder onto your swollen clit.

It was all he needed to hear before sliding your bikini bottoms to the side and shoving his tongue to where you needed him most. The cool air of the outdoors was a stark contrast to the heat you felt between your legs.

He took his time with you, like he wanted to savor every sweet moan you gave him. His tongue flicked around your clit a few times, before wrapping his lips around it. Your hand slid into his brown locks, slightly lightened form the sun over vacation, and pulled as you rutted your hips against his face.

“Mm, that’s it,” He groaned into your cunt, his words vibrating against you, sending your hips into a faster frenzy. He slipped two fingers into you, lifting his head to watch as you lulled your head back against the cushion and took your hands from his head to your breasts. You stretched the bikini top slightly, until your breasts spilled over the tiny triangles, your nipples already hardened from the need that burned within you.

Charles slipped one hand up to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and pinching.

“M’god,” You half-shouted, biting your lip to prevent yourself for being too loud.

“Don’t deprive me from your sweet little moans, yeah?” He pulled his lips off your clit for a few seconds, giving you ample time to look at them glistening in you. You nearly came at the sight of it.

He dropped his head back between your legs, flicking fast kitten licks to your clit, which had you careening forward with a cry of pleasure.

He sucked hard on your clit, eliciting loud mewls from you that were like a sweet melody to his ears. Charles could feel his cock straining against the tightness of his swim suit, he flexed his hips into the couch before him, in need of some sort of relief.

He could feel you teetering on the edge of your orgasm, shoving his face deeper into you, his tongue slipping in and out of you at a fervent pace. It hit you hard. Your hips had a mind of their own, as they rode his face, the bony structure of his nose pressing against your clit sending you into a frenzy.

Charles replaced his tongue with his fingers and watched as you came down from your high. His fingers still working you over as he coaxed you through your orgasm, not letting up.

“I knew you would taste like heaven,” He smirks, finally removing his fingers, before slipping them into his mouth, and moaning at the taste of you on his tongue.

You groaned, your pupils blown out as you looked at him, your legs still spread and cunt fully exposed to him and the outside air.

“Need more,” You practically begged.

“Need my cock, hm?” You nodded, wasted no time in answering. He pushed himself up from his knees, sitting beside you on the couch as he pushed his swimsuit down enough to free his cock. It was hot and heavy in your hands as you reached for it, precum already dripping from its tip.

You straddled his waist, raising up just enough for him to slip his cock into your already saturated core. Your hands grip the back of the couch behind Charles’ head, your fingers clenching it tightly as you take in each inch of him. His hands grip your waist, large fingers sprayed across as he guides your movements over his cock.

The squeeze of your cunt on his cock was better than Charles could ever imagine. The fact that he had to use his fist before you was honestly a punishment compared to this.

“Mon dieu,” My God. You groan as his cock stretches your walls. You waste no time in working yourself over his cock, the pleasure of it too good for you to do it slow. You chased that second orgasm as it teetered on the edge. You were already so close.

“That close already?” His smirk was permanent on his face as he flexed his hips up into you, hitting you deeper than before.

You nodded, soft mewls escaping your lips constantly. It was as if you couldn’t shut up now. His hands grip your hair tightly, pulling your head back to look up at the sky, as he pulls one of your hardened nipples in between his teeth.

You didn’t have time to tell him you were coming again, but the clench of your walls on his cock was enough of a warning for him. Your walls fluttered around him repeatedly, as his name fell softly from your lips followed with a string of curses.

As if he couldn’t hold back his orgasm any longer, he lifted you up off him and placed you to the side, his hot cum spilling over his cock and stomach in stringy spurts. Your body was limp against the cushion, your bathing suit covering nothing.

Still hazy from your climax, you look from the blue cloudy sky to Charles beside you. His eyes were glossy as he smiled, like he was fully content.

“Merci,” Thank you. You said softly, an acknowledgment for him giving you what you mentioned the other night.

He nodded once, giving a small smile as if to say thank you back.

It’s been weeks since you and Charles fucked on the outdoor couch of the vacation villa. You haven’t seen each other much since, not that you expected it. You were thankful it helped you forget about your ex-boyfriend just a little bit more. Like you could bare the idea of meeting other men. Which you were.

You claimed that Charles was a one-time thing. Although it was probably the best sex you’ve ever had, you knew you couldn’t do it again. It was a mutual one-time thing.

So, when you found yourself pressed against the bathroom door of the five-star restaurant, your short little sundress bunched up at your waist, and Charles’ cock buried deep in your cunt, it was a little unexpected. Not completely.

It was hard and quick, nothing but a string of breathy moans between you two as he pressed your chest forward into the door. You both came quickly, your chest flushed red and his cheeks slightly pink as if he just performed a hard workout.

“Who’s your date?” He asks, the words slip out fast, like he’s trying to act like he doesn’t care.

You furrow your eyebrow for a second, before looking at yourself in the mirror, Charles standing tall behind your figure. “Just met him last night,” You flattened your hair as much as you could to make it seem normal. “I’m trying to get back out there.”

Charles smiles at you, although it seems slightly pained. “Good. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t deserve you.” His words were kind, and it made you smile that he even bothered to say it.

“I should get back,” You begin, turning to face him. His eyes look at your lips one last time, like he’s contemplating kissing you again. “I’ll see you next week at Joris’s, right?”

He gave you a small nod.

Charles Leclerc is a liar.

Well, a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you sexually. The way you feel around his cock. The way your breathy moans turn him on to no end. The way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock. The taste of your cunt on his lips.

He’s a liar if he says he doesn’t fuck his fist almost every night to the thought of you.

But he was also a liar when it comes to him saying he doesn’t think about you not sexually. The way you loved to read trashy magazines, the way you always fidgeted with the rings on your fingers when you were nervous, the way your eyes glowed whenever you laughed.

So, when Joris mentions you and a new potential boyfriend, he can’t help but feel slightly annoyed at the idea. The clench of Charles’ jaw at the sight of you and this ‘potential boyfriend’ across the yard at baby shower, does not slip past Joris’s eyesight.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two?

Charles clutches the neck of the beer bottle in his fingers, bringing it to his lips, before straying his eyes from you to Joris beside him.

Charles’ eyes gleamed like he didn’t know how to answer this without admitting feelings he hasn’t even admitted to himself. He shook his head. No. Because there wasn’t.

“Vous étiez proches en vacances.” You guys were close on vacation.

It was just a statement, as if he wanted to see Charles’ reaction. Charles didn’t know if Joris was trying to insinuate anything, but Charles didn’t respond. Not as Joris’s girlfriend, your best friend, popped up behind you both, a tray of cupcakes in her hand.

You sat across the yard, deep in conversation with Theo, at one of the many heavily decorated picnic tables. The short purple sundress that adorned your body is a vision of effortless elegance. Delicate straps grace the shoulders, framing your breasts with a feminine charm. The skirt flows gently with every movement, swaying gracefully in the warm breeze.

You both knew it wasn’t anything serious, at least yet, but he had a way of making you smile, nonetheless. Despite only knowing each other for a few weeks and sharing a handful of dates, he made a point to take his time with you. He was considerate, never pressuring you into anything, especially after you had confided in him about your previous messy relationship one night.

“Tu es belle.” You’re beautiful. Theo whispered into your ear, his fingers toying with the fabric at the ends of your dress, resting right above your knees.

You blushed, your cheeks flaring a light shade of red, as you smiled into your lap. You lifted your head slightly, looking across the yard, where your eyes met with Charles. His eyes already watching you with such heat in his eyes it made your stomach do a somersault.

He felt an intense surge of resentment towards the guy who dared to lay his hands on you, his anger boiling as he watched him lean into whisper into your ear. Your cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of crimson under his gaze, betraying the effect of his words. What could he possibly be saying to you?

It was just his cock you were coming around last week. So, why is this fiery sense of jealousy threatening to consume him entirely?

It didn’t make sense. How could he feel such intense jealousy over someone he never even had a real relationship with? He never even felt this jealous over his ex-girlfriend.

It was just sex.

He told himself repeatedly. It was just sex. But it only made the burn in his chest only grow more.

You were a liar if you said that Charles Leclerc is never on your mind. You were a liar if you said that it was just sex.

Because, for some inexplicable reason, you can’t seem to get Charles Leclerc out of your mind. You remember how he made sure none of your dishes contained coconut, how he bought you those trashy magazines he knew you loved so much, and how he always made sure that you were smiling.

So, when Charles Leclerc stood silhouetted in the doorway of your front door, the moonlight casting a soft glow around him in the middle of the night, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat.

You took note of his hair in disarray, as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times, and the soft grey sweats that hung loosely on his hips. The taut muscles of his arms peeked out against the seams of the black t-shirt he wore.

“Je n’arrête pas de penser à toi.” I can’t stop thinking about you. He utters the words with a look of anguish etched on his face, each step carefully navigating around your figure as he stands in the foyer of your apartment, a space he’s been in countless times over the years. But never alone. Never without friends.

You close the door and turn to look at him, not realizing just how close he was to you. “It’s like you,” he begins but freezes, taking a step closer toward you. You take a step back, the tight tank top you wore did little to hide your hardened nipples from the cold air, and your back hit the front door. “It’s like you possess every thought I have. Every single thought. You. You. You.”

You sucked in a breath as you looked into his eyes, more darkened than normal, almost as if he was angry at you.

“Qu’est-ce que tu m’as fait?” What did you do to me? His fingers trail up your arm to your collarbones, a trail of goosebumps following in their wake.

You gulp audibly, your lips slightly parted from the feel of his fingertips on your skin for the first time in weeks. You struggle to find the words until Charles is pleading.

He laughs slightly sarcastic, like he can’t believe this is happening to him. “I even bought those trashy magazines that you like so much, a whole stack of them at my place, because I cannot get you out of my fucking head.”

“Dit moi, it’s not just me.” Tell me.

You would be a liar if you said it’s just him. Your hands trail up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing them in comfort as you stare into his eyes. His breaths getting heavier as your fingers trail his t-shirt classes skin, like he was yearning for it so much, like it burned him.

“It’s not just you.”

He doesn’t give you time to say much more, not until his lips are crashing down onto yours again. Like he couldn’t last one more second without your lips pressed to his.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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baby-yongbok · 7 months

Text

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you.

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot.

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face.

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now.

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it.

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items.

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away.

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next.

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up.

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you.

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans.

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end.

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one.

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month.

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild.

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow.

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after.

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.”

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded.

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

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bvidzsoo · 2 months

Text

Daemonium

﹢﹑⟡ Daemonium → evil spirit [Latin] ﹢﹑⟡

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: demon!Jung Wooyoung x female reader

﹢﹑⟡ Warning: cursing, attempts of murder, descriptions of death, usage of witchcraft, suggestive ﹢﹑⟡ Word count: 17.5k ﹢﹑⟡ Rating: nc-17 ﹢﹑⟡ Genre: supernatural!au, university!au, demon!au, crack somehow too~ Summary: ﹢﹑⟡ Starting university and moving in with an unknown dormmate should've been stressful, not to you though. You couldn't wait to finally break free from home and live life freely. But isn't it weird that you start having near death experiences quite often after you meet your dormmate, Jung Wooyoung? ﹢﹑⟡

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! The long promised demon!Woo oneshot is here! I apologize in advantage if I totally fucked up how a negative is developed, despite my research, I didn't understand much lol. Also, the usage of witchcraft isn't described too much but it still might not be that accurate so yeah, sorry for that too. I hope the humor in this isn't bad or cringey, I had quite a blast writing this story lol. I hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts about it, I appreciate and love your feedback always! <3 divider (picture Vogue Korea shoot Wooyoung, where he wore that sheer-like fabric, making it seem like he was covered in tattoos & also, Coachella Mingi, thank uu)

The first time I saw him was when I was down in the lobby, six months ago, all sorts of excited and nervous as I was waiting for my AR to show me to my room for the university year. My mother had been clinging to my arm, her eyes just as wide and curious as mine as we were looking around while giggling to ourselves about the decoration and any guy that passed by us. My father, much less impressed and excited, stood more to the back with his arms crossed in front of his chest, probably thinking of a possible excuse to save himself from having to help his only daughter move into her future dorm room. So very typical of my dad, yeah.

I was chewing on my nails, watching as another AR came down to greet the newcomers—too busy wincing as I ripped up the cuticle of my thumb accidentally—to notice the sudden presence next to me. My mother was reading through a magazine she found at the front desk, lips pursed as she muttered to herself about the atrocious décor the magazine was advertising just as my father’s phone started ringing.

Ah, there it was, his excuse to stake out in the car and do whatever he can to pass the time. Very cool, dad, yay!

I hissed as I finally was able to bite off the annoying thin layer of skin, stinging radiating up from my thumb to my palm. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I sighed as I wiped the smallest drop of blood off my skin and looked up, only to pause as I made eye contact with the figure standing next to me. I blinked once, twice—quite shamelessly letting my eyes roam all over his figure as I took him in—aura dark and definitely screaming, ‘I will kill you if you even as much as touch me, roach’. Well, isn’t that just so cool?!

The guy was taller than me by a few good inches—nothing high heels couldn’t solve—and despite his all-black outfit, he looked excentric, attention demanding. Well, with the tattoos littering his sleeves and neck, it would’ve been a little hard not to demand for one’s attention—even if he was just standing next to me, sharp eyes narrowed at my still gently bleeding thumb. His face looked like it was sculpted by a Greek God itself, who had taken their time to make sure every single feature of his guy’s was perfect. His jaw was all sharp in this angle, making one appreciate his profile even more. His lips were rosy red, and a silver lip ring towards the left corner of his mouth had my eyes lingering on it a second too long as I noticed it cut into his plush looking flesh. His nose stood tall and quite captivating with its special Romanic feature, not very common around here. I took notice of the mole underneath his left eye as well, my gaze slowly shifting to the two silver dots—piercings—underneath his eye that made his gaze even more alluring than it already was. And his eyes seemed to be uneven, the left one sharper and more monolided than his right one, making it feel like you were looking at two different persons depending on which eye you were staring at.

Almost at once, it seemed like my mother and father finally noticed this extremely intriguing guy standing next to me, however, their reactions seeing him were quite different. My father scoffed and gave him a scrutinizing look before walking off, motioning towards his phone in a way that was supposed to convey the fact that it was an important call, yadda yadda—it wasn’t; meanwhile my mother’s jaw dropped open as she very rudely gapped at the guy while nudging my side. Finally, it snapped me out of my blatant staring, and I quickly wiped the little blood off my thumb, smiling widely at the guy when our eyes met. For a moment, my smile faltered at the darkness swirling in his eyes, the depth in his sharp gaze, but as he blinked, it almost completely went away. It must be the light messing with us, because his eyes were a dark brown, almost midnight black like the hair that was falling messily in his eyes. With a sexily raised eyebrow, he gave me a questioning gaze, looking displeased by the attention from my mother and myself, and then he turned and stalked off towards the elevator. I whistled under my breath and my mother giggled like a schoolgirl, muttering something about how she’d devour him if she were young and wild once again—not cool, mom.

And after that encounter with the sexy and intriguing stranger, my RA finally made it to me and with his and my mother’s help—thanks dad for not giving a shit, again—I was up on the fourth floor, standing inside my shared dorm room with a dormmate that I still have had yet to meet. Dorms were mixed here, so unless you specifically made a request to share the dorm with the same gender, you could end up with either a guy or a girl dormmate. I have no specific preferences, therefore I left it up to whoever was assigning us to pair me up with whoever. The dorm room had one shared living space, it was quite spacious and served well for a living room, a small kitchen that could fit at a maximum four people inside, and, thankfully, a private bathroom so that we didn’t have to share it with everyone on our floor. And there were two separate rooms serving as our dormitories too. All in all, the dorm was fancy and quite to my taste, and I felt quite satisfied with it. Once I have claimed the room to my right as my own, I settled inside of it and unpacked everything, letting my mother help me as I knew she wasn’t just yet ready to part ways with her only daughter—who she thinks is sheltered, but turns out, I am quite the opposite of it.

Once my mother left and I was all settled in, I made for the bathroom for a long shower, needing a refresher as the days were still hot and made me sweat buckets. But the warm spray of the water compelled me to wash my hair as well, and I complied happily as I heard noise coming from the living room. My dormmate must have finally made it to our dorm, it made me giddy as I was finally done with my shower, only just now realizing I didn’t bring clothes with myself. Well, I should have thought of that before, now it was too late, but thankfully I had my towel with me and I securely wrapped it around my body, water dripping from my hair as I walked outside and into the living room. My smile was wide and voice chirpy as I exclaimed before even seeing my dormmate, “Hi! You made it! I was just taking a shower, my name’s—”

“Hell, why is your voice so high pitched?” The low grunt cut me off as my eyebrows furrowed, looking for the source of voice as I couldn’t see anyone in the living room. Was my voice high pitched? Nobody’s told me that before.

“Uh, well, I guess I’m just excited to meet you.” I made sure to lower the pitch, accidentally sounding like a creepy man that was trying to sound like he totally wasn’t about to grope you or act like a freaking creep. But I still couldn’t see the person, so I walked closer to the sofa, “Where are you—”

My eyes widened as my dormmate finally came into view as he stood up, eyes still so dark as he looked unimpressed, “Oh, it’s you.”

Well…he didn’t sound too excited, that’s for sure. I gulped, suddenly blushing as I realized I was stood in front of the hauntingly sexy stranger from the lobby in nothing but a towel. However, to my surprise, he seemed quite uninterested as he turned back around and crouched down again. I leaned just a little forward, curious as to what he was doing crouching underneath the window, “Yup, it’s me, we’ve met like…an hour ago? What a coincidence that we’re dormmates!”

“If only I had a little more luck in this shitty realm…” The guy grumbled underneath his breath and my eyebrows furrowed at his peculiar choice of words, oh, was he like…into some type of fantasy stuff? Like…does he think he’s like an elf or an alien or like…a zombie? Wait, no, he’s too sexy and normally behaving to think he’s a zombie, “I’m Wooyoung, by the way. Jung Wooyoung.”

I quickly plastered on a wide smile as he stopped and turned back, eyes calculating as he raised one eyebrow, “Nice to meet you, Wooyoung! My name’s Hwang Y/N.”

His eyes narrowed for a second before he grunted again and turned back to whatever he was doing, my curiosity only growing as I kneeled on the sofa and leaned against the back of it, craning my neck. As he moved to the side again, I noticed he held a small bowl in his hands which contained something solid and white. Huh, is it salt?

“So, whatcha doing, Woo?” I grinned as he turned around again, looking quite disgusted.

“My name is Wooyoung, not Woo.” His tone was snappy as he pursed his lips, giving me a once over again, “And I’m putting salt underneath the window, don’t want anyone with a big ego and stupid brains coming inside.”

“Isn’t that why we lock the front doors?” I arched an eyebrow as confusion laced my voice, and Wooyoung just blinked as if he was waiting for me to get to the butt of the joke.

“Humans,” He hissed underneath his breath before he stood up tall, knees popping and making me bite my lower lip before I could chuckle. It was funny for no reason, apparently only to me as Wooyoung looked still as unimpressed as ever, “Anyways, Y/N, I have some ground rules that you’ll have to respect heavily.”

“Ooh, lemme hear ‘em.” I grinned as I leaned my chin on my folded arms over the back of the sofa, making Wooyoung sigh long and loud. Did he not like me? Was he irritated by my presence?

“First, and most important rule, is to never enter my room, okay?” He leaned down, face coming closer to mine as his dark eyes bore into my curious ones, “Never ever, Y/N, understood?”

I pursed my lips and hummed, tilting my head to the side, “Sure, I’ll stay out of your room, but—are you like doing some rituals in there or what? You can come inside my room as long as you ask, you know, I don’t mind.”

Wooyoung’s jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed again and he tsked, shaking his head a little bit, “Rituals or not, human, you stay out. I bet your mommy would cry if you were to disappear.”

“She certainly would.” I did a mock salute, making Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow as I chuckled, leaning forward, the gap becoming smaller between our faces, “Don’t you worry you weird little creature—human—I won’t go inside your room. I am quite capable of respecting people’s wishes, you know?”

“Anyways,” Wooyoung cleared his throat and stood back up straight, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “second rule, if you see salt scattered around the floor or on the windowsills, do not get rid of them, got it?”

“Sure, you’re lucky I’m not some clean freak maniac, though.” I chuckled, sitting back on the sofa before I stood up, suddenly aware again that I was standing in only a towel and my hair was still dripping water everywhere.

“Hell, why do you have an answer to everything?!” Wooyoung pinched the bridge of his nose before he turned his back to me and went to spread more salt underneath the window. I just chuckled and took off towards my room.

“Anything else, Mr. ‘I have two rules you can’t ever break’?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the doorknob and Wooyoung scoffed loudly, looking quite unimpressed when his head turned to face me.

“Yeah, rule number three, don’t ever touch my chocolate if you want to live another day.” I started laughing, but when I realized he was dead serious about it, I stopped and cleared my throat, mock saluting him again.

“Yes, sir, yes!” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed again and he closed his eyes as he muttered something, then turned back to finish whatever weirdo thing he was doing. I giggled and finally went inside my room to get dressed and dry my hair.

Well, all of that was six months ago and Wooyoung changed nothing. Albeit, I didn’t change much either, apart from the fact that I cut my hair after Wooyoung accidentally managed to somehow burn the strands sitting against my back. It was a freak accident and we still don’t know how the fire got close to my hair as I was sitting at the table while he was cooking us dinner. But it was quickly forgotten as many of Wooyoung’s peculiar habits and actions. If you overlooked his weirdness, he had quite the persona. I rarely saw him smile, unless he was with that obnoxiously tall blonde guy, but he did stop glaring at me nonstop. Now he’d only glare for a few seconds whenever he saw me and then pretended I wasn’t even there. It was a good deal on my part, not that I had a habit of clinging to others and bothering them, but Wooyoung was quite good at setting up boundaries, and he certainly was teaching me how to stay in my lane and respect others wishes. I could be a little nosy, but Wooyoung was the first person to be bothered by it. I didn’t mind as long as he would watch ghost hunting shows with me every Wednesday and Friday. He hated it, but he didn’t complain—I viewed that as a small victory, especially if he bought salted caramel popcorn to snack on while we watched the new episodes.

The seasons were changing and the weather was turning warm once again—slowly but steadily—and that also meant more storms and power outages. Which were quite frequent around our campus, especially in our building. There wasn’t one storm where the power didn’t go out, and the last time it happened, I heard Wooyoung cussing loudly inside his room, something shattering, and then Wooyoung storming out of his room and our shared dorm with something red trickling down underneath his eyes. He could’ve been cosplaying or something, so I didn’t question it too much. Tonight wasn’t different, the storm hit at around 7pm and it kept going well into the night, making it difficult for me to fall asleep as the windows were quite old in this building and did a shitty job at insulating the sounds coming from the outside. Struggling to fall asleep, I had facetimed my mother and somehow managed to fall asleep to the gory story she was retelling that’s happened to her at the morgue yesterday. She must’ve hung up upon seeing that I have fallen asleep, because when I awoke due to the relentless and loud howling of the wind, the screen of my phone was black and the phone itself had been almost falling off my bed on the other end of the mattress. I could get quite restless in my sleep if outside factors were bothering me, and I groaned as I rubbed at my eyes, barely seeing anything in the darkness of my room. The window rattled against its hinges as the wind blew even harsher, the rain hitting the glass loudly and making me feel like I was inside a caravan on a stormy night. At least the thunderstorms haven’t started yet.

I yawned as I finally felt my phone under my extended palm and rolled over, burying my head in the spare pillow as I pulled the phone under my body. I was tired as hell and I wanted to go back to sleep right away, but something told me to check the time. It was a little past 3am and I groaned as I flopped back onto my back, reaching over for the cable of my charger. Feeling around for it, and growing frustrated that I couldn’t find it, I pushed up onto my elbows and turned my head over, completely freezing as I noticed my bedroom door was wide open, with a black figure standing in the doorway. My eyebrows furrowed for a second, brain hazy with sleep, and I blinked my eyes fast, thinking that I was just seeing things. But rubbing both of my eyes for a few seconds only made me see black spots, making the figure look like it was further inside my room when my vision finally cleared. My grip tightened around my phone as my eyes narrowed when I noticed something silvery in the person’s right hand. Wait—was it a knife? Our sharpest knife, and Wooyoung’s favorite knife to cook with? Ah, Wooyoung!

“Hey,” I called out, voice a little scratchy from lack of water, “something bothering you?”

Wooyoung seemed frozen, unmoving and unblinking as his red tongue poked out to lick at his plush lips slowly. Yeah, I could use a glass of water too right now. It was a little unsettling how well he blended in with the darkness, almost as if it swirled around him, pulled him into itself. His eyes were so dark that only the whites of them were visible, and his two piercings were almost as bright as the butcher knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“This storm sucks so much,” I sighed, turning over and instantly finding the cable, “I could barely fall asleep, and now I’m awake again because of it.”

I successfully plucked in my phone and then placed it on my nightstand, “You can’t sleep either?”

I rolled onto my back again, settling comfortably underneath my warm blanket as my soft pillow cradled the back of my head. Wooyoung still hasn’t moved nor said anything, and a wide smile spread onto my lips at the sudden thought I got, “Wanna cuddle, Woo?”

The figure grunted, the sound a lot lower than Wooyoung’s usual voice, and then it visibly shivered as I made grabby hands at him. When he still hasn’t moved, I smiled brightly at Wooyoung and raised my eyebrows questioningly. That’s all it took for Wooyoung to snap out of his weirdly frozen state as he visibly gagged, making me pout as he whirled around quickly, knife glinting as he pressed it against his lower back. And then he was out of my room, slamming the door shut loudly behind himself, “Sweet dreams, Wooyoung!”

My exclamation was probably drowned out by the heavy rain and I sighed contently as I nuzzled further into my comfortable bed, turning to lay on my belly as I felt my dreams threatening to kidnap me into dreamland once again.

The morning that followed after the storm was cold and mostly quiet. Branches had been torn off trees and they lay astray on the streets, the city maintenance were out early in the morning to clean them up so that there wouldn’t be more traffic jams than usual. I was glad for once for not owning a car as I walked towards the coffee shop that is closest to our campus and university, my best friend probably already there. He’s always way too early and then complains about me being late, when in fact, it’s always him arriving fifteen minutes early while I’m on time. It’s an argument we’ve been having since highschool, and he still thinks he’s in the right and I’m just bullshitting my way through the argument. The big guy, in fact, cannot lose in anything and will obliterate you if you doubt his skills or piss him off while playing games. He’s a monster when it comes to playing games, and it’s been more than on one occasion that he managed to scare me to the point I burst out in tears. But I promise he’s the softest and kindest and safest human being you’ll ever meet—as long as you keep him away from anything that he can turn into a competitive game, like…who can eat more walnuts in three minutes. Don’t ask, but we ended up in the ER after that little stunt of ours—he’s allergic to nuts but he apparently wanted to prove a point. What point…we still haven’t figured it out. Maybe that he’s immortal or something—he isn’t. He once broke his arm and cried about it for a week, it was the funniest thing ever. I still have the videos of him laying in his bed with snot running into his mouth as he sobs about losing whatever points he’s made in Valorant or something—I wouldn’t know, I’m not much of a gamer.

I grinned as I finally reached the coffee shop, sidestepping a couple that were giggling to each other and having no spatial awareness to someone that was trying to enter the building that they were blocking the entrance to. I pushed the heavy door open and as expected, Yunho was already sat at our usual table with a cup in his hands, gazing out nostalgically the window. I chuckled and hopped over, scaring the shit out of him as I threw my arm around his shoulders and pressed a fat kiss against his soft and chubby cheek. He spilled a little of his coffee on the table as he whined and yanked himself free from my clutches.

“Yunho!” I grinned as I took a seat across from him, “I missed you!”

He looked tired as he gave me a short glare, taking a napkin to clean up the mess caused by me, “You’re lucky I didn’t spill it on my new dress pants, or else we’d be in the bathroom with your head flushed down the toilet.”

“Hey!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I wriggled out of my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair, placing my backpack underneath our desk, “Sometimes I wonder if you really love me or not…”

“You can’t guilt trip me when you made me spill my favorite coffee.” He deadpanned as he placed the cup down on the table, intertwining his fingers and placing his hands on the table, giving me a serious look. I huffed and pouted as I grabbed my own cup, knowing that it was my favorite as I raised it up to my lips, taking a tentative sip. The sweet taste of caramel invaded my senses and I hummed in content, closing my eyes.

“I’m buying next time.” I said as I placed the cup back down and leaned over the table to ruffle Yunho’s hair.

“You better.” He mumbled as he leaned forward, letting me pet his hair for a little longer. He loved it when others played with his hair, he’d often fall asleep in my lap if I played with his hair, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Yunho knew I hated storms, and after having offered to sleep over last night but I declined because he had an exam today, I knew he’d be a little worried about me not sleeping much, “Yeah, I struggled to fall asleep, but I did manage to sleep more than I expected.”

“That’s good, the power went out at around seven in our building.” Yunho rolled his eyes and we both leaned back in our chairs, our legs playfully pushing at each other underneath the table, “I hate these old buildings, they are so freaking creepy. It makes me feel like I’m a Victorian man getting haunted by my enemy’s ghost or something whenever I have to leave my room. The library is so dark too, I almost shat my pants last night when I ran into a dude in the very last aisle, you know, in the back where the light barely reaches even with the power on.”

I snorted in amusement as I fiddled with my fingers in my lap, shaking my head at my best friend, “Only you would be in the library when there’s a power outage, Yuyu, it’s you who’s creepy at this point, not the possibility of encountering a sexy and hunky ghost—”

“Don’t say that about ghosts, oh, my God!” Yunho gave me a disgusted look as he shivered. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders and soft cheeks, but fierce eyes if pissed off, yet, at his core, he is just a big scaredy-cat. He hates anything paranormal related, and when I once dragged him ghost haunting with me, we ended up in the confession box the same night with him begging the priest to bless him—and me—because he was convinced a demon attached itself to him. It was hilarious, especially when he stole a small vial of holy water and downed it on our way home.

“Anyways,” I playfully rolled my eyes and then took another sip of my coffee, “the power went out in our building too, but was back at 3am.”

“What were you doing up at 3am?” Yunho asked with furrowed brows, holding onto his warm cup of coffee.

“I dunno, the wind woke me up.” I shrugged, placing down my cup and mirroring Yunho, “And then I noticed Wooyoung standing in my doorway with his favorite butcher knife in his hand—”

“What?!” Yunho’s loud voice had heads turning our way with inquiring gazes and I chuckled, bowing my head slightly in a silent apology for being a nuisance. Then, I faced my best friend again and shushed him as he suddenly stood up from his seat from across me, and instead fell into the one right next to mine, “Are you okay?!”

“Yes, Jesus, what’s up with you, Yuyu?” I scoffed and gave him a look that said he’s crazy, making Yunho stare back at me as if I was the crazy one.

“Do you hear yourself right now?!” And before I could answer, he leaned forward and cupped my cheeks, squishing them together so that I couldn’t speak, “What the fuck is wrong with that dude, Y/N, you seriously need to change dormmates. We can move in together, I’ll pay the bigger part of our rent, I don’t care at this point. That guy is trying to kill you!”

I groaned loudly and rolled my eyes as I grabbed onto his wrists, pulling Yunho’s hands off my cheeks as he instead grabbed onto my shoulders firmly with his long fingers digging into my turtleneck, “You are overreacting, again. He isn’t trying to kill me, Yunho, he’s just peculiar. He was probably cooking something and came to check on me as he knows I struggle sleeping when there’s a storm—”

“Right.” Yunho cut me off with an obnoxious scoff, “He was cooking at 3am, Y/N, sure.”

“He does eat at weird hours, sometimes.” I shrugged and yelped when Yunho started shaking me violently.

“Wake up, woman, that man is weird and probably is a serial killer, and if you don’t move out you’ll be his next victim, please, Y/N, when has my intuition been wrong?!” Yunho’s voice was dripping with desperation and I bit my lower lip, blinking at him innocently.

“Back in highschool when you thought that guy you liked from drama class was gay and you kissed him at that legendary party?” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers, completely mortified at the mention of the cursed exchange—which he have sworn never to speak about.

“Shut up!” He yelped, pressing his big palm against my mouth, “We agreed that never happened! And don’t divert the subject, I am serious, Y/N. Something is very wrong with that guy and you’re just stubborn and don’t want to see it, because you think I’m only saying all of this because I hate him.”

“Well, am I wrong?” I raised my eyebrows and Yunho sighed in exasperation, his hands falling from my shoulders.

“He’s trying to kill you, of course I hate him.” He snapped, eyebrows furrowing deeply, making me roll my eyes as I grabbed my cup and took a sip of my Caramel Macchiato.

“Yuyu, you can’t even pinpoint one instance when he’s tried to kill me, stop being dramatic—”

“Oh, I can’t pinpoint one instance?!” Yunho’s eyebrows angrily shot up, “How about I pinpoint a dozen then, you stupid woman!”

“I’m all ears.” I singsonged and leaned back in my chair as Yunho groaned loudly, leaning closer, as if that would make him sound less insane and make me finally agree with the way he thought things were.

“Fine,” He snapped and pressed a finger against my chest quite painfully, “you had been living with him barely for three weeks when it just so happened that there was a fire scare in your apartment, and your door was locked from the outside? Not even two weeks after that, he walked inside the bathroom while you were bathing and pushed your hairdryer into the bathtub, but thankfully it wasn’t plugged in, right?! Oh, and how about on Halloween when he dressed up as Ghostface and only chased you around and got arrested when the cops realized he had a real knife as a prop?! What about, I don’t know, when he quite literally broke a bottle and held it against your neck under the excuse that he wanted to see how you’d react ‘under pressure’?! Let’s not even mention him burning your hair when you were feet away from the stove. Or that time when the lunatic was playing around with throwing knives and almost fucking gauged your eye out with it? He’s set your favorite blanket on fire, Y/N, while you were underneath it! And you said he tried to push you into the river while you were out taking photographs for your portfolio for class—”

“Alright!” I raised my hands in defeat, sighing loudly, “I do admit it’s weird how often it happens that I’m placed in harms way whenever I’m around Wooyoung, but they are just coincidences, Yunho—”

“Coincidences my fucking ass!” Yunho hissed, cheeks and ears reddening from anger. I sighed defeated and placed my elbow on the table and then rested my chin in my palm with a pout on my lips. Yunho only cussed when he was really angry.

“Yuyu,” I poked his hand with my left hand, lightly scratching his smooth skin with my nails, “I love and you love me, and I know you worry about me because ‘you know how men are’, but Wooyoung is inoffensive, trust me. He’s odd and yeah, weird things happen around him, but I actually quite enjoy his personality. He’s a rational and down-to-earth guy, he tells me as things are and he’s quite fucking good at photography. I probably passed a few of my classes due to his help, so please, try not to think of him as a serial killer.”

Yunho shook his head and looked down, timidly intertwining our fingers, making me beam at him as I knew he wasn’t actually mad at me, “I’ll never like him, and if you freaking disappear, I’m going to dismember him and—”

“You sound like a serial killer right now—”

“And once the police get your case, they’ll tell me I was right, because that dude is nuts and has been trying to kill you for months now, but whatever.” Yunho scoffed and I rolled my eyes, squeezing his fingers between mine, “Let’s change the subject, I don’t want to go to classes angry.”

I grinned, leaning closer to his face, “You texted me something last night about a guy…”

Yunho’s cheeks flushed, and he yanked his hand out of mine as he stood and sat back in his initial seat, “Right, I think I have a new crush.”

I gasped, grinning from ear to ear, “Let me see him!”

Yunho cleared his throat as he unlocked his phone, his ears reddening as he opened Instagram, reluctantly turning his phone around. The guy looked familiar and I narrowed my eyes as I read his handle, wondering where I had seen him before. His eyes were sharp but he had dimples when he smiled. He looked shorter than Yunho, and that was weird, because Yunho preferred guys his height or taller than him.

“Is this Choi San?” Finally, his name clicked as I looked at Yunho with one raised eyebrow, making his eyes widen.

“You know him?” He asked surprised, turning his phone to look at San’s picture, “He’s on the university’s hockey team, majors in sports and such.”

“I know him,” I chuckled and leaned back in my seat, knowing that Yunho will hate what I was about to say next, “and he’s on pretty good terms with Wooyoung.”

Yunho’s face fell and he groaned loudly, throwing his head back, “Great.”

I chuckled and grabbed my cup of coffee, sipping on it as I watched Yunho have a visible meltdown in front of me. This man, he could be so dramatic at times. And maybe I lied a little bit, maybe San and Wooyoung on ‘pretty good terms’, but they did hang out…for business that I couldn’t disclose due to our unspoken dormmate confidentiality.

Between two-hour long classes and everlasting lectures, I was lucky enough to have a two-hour break, away from all the brain maiming material that I had to sit through and study thoroughly for our fast-approaching exams. As I still had a project to finish, I was headed to the darkroom to check out if my negatives have developed well. It’s been a few days since I had been there, and I was curious to see how my pictures turned out. The porter of our university already knew me—like most photography majors—and as I knocked on his cubicle’s little window, he flashed me a grin and swiftly fetched the darkroom’s key. I thanked him as he handed it over and then I was off to the room, bouncing on my every second step as the hallways were littered with students eager to escape this hell-site. I shared their distaste for having to study so much, but I quite enjoyed what I was studying as long as it required of me to take photos and then present them to the teacher or to our class. Wooyoung, visibly to his horror, shared the same major as me and thus was forced to sit through lessons with me by his side, diligently taking notes and sometimes snorting at whatever the teacher was saying as I mockingly said it back to Wooyoung. He rarely reciprocated any of my jokes and even more rarely interacted back with me. Not that it bothered me, he usually ignored me even in the shared space of our dorm—unless it came to studying and things he didn’t understand. Like how a coffee maker machine worked, which was weird but I didn’t say anything about it to him. He had called himself an old soul or whatever, I didn’t dwell much on his words, unless he was screaming at me for accidentally sweeping up his little funky salt ‘barriers’ that he’d litter our dorm with. It wasn’t my fault I accidentally confused it with breadcrumbs as it was quite literally around our table in the kitchen.

The darkroom wasn’t too spacious nor lit up—hence its name—and I placed my backpack on a stool once I was inside, the door secured shut behind myself. I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket as I walked towards the hung-up strings, the ones I have put up there four days ago. I haven’t developed many negatives this time as I hadn’t taken many pictures, too busy studying instead of focusing on this project, but I was glad that they came out well. I gently took each one down from the string and took my time studying them, smiling as most were taken when I was hanging out with Yunho. However, there was one that was of my oh so lovely dormmate, Jung Wooyoung. He had been sitting on the floor at our coffee table in our living room when I had arrived home, too focused on scribbling things down to notice the click of our door’s lock. I stood in the doorway and took my time to take him in, rarely being able to see a serene look on his face. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt, the strange runic like tattoos on display on his arms. There was barely an inch of skin bare, and as he was leaned forward, his t-shirt fell a little low and exposed his neck and collarbones, tattoos similar to the ones on his arms peeking through. The black ink was thick and it made me wonder whether it hurt like a bitch or not when he got them.

I had reached inside my backpack for my camera as Wooyoung’s upper teeth got caught in his lip ring, sucking it between his bottom lip and front teeth. You see, Wooyoung isn’t an unattractive guy and despite his odd behaviour, I am just a woman that appreciates gorgeous things. And so, I couldn’t be blamed for wondering what the lip ring feels like when it makes contact with your own lips, whether it’s bothersome or turns you on even more. Not wanting to pass up on the moment, I quickly snapped myself out of my thoughts and snapped a picture of Wooyoung just as he looked up. He looked taken aback, eyes widened and lower lip jutting out as I grinned and waved at him. His serene expression didn’t last for long, however, as his eyebrows furrowed and a glare made it onto his face. But I ignored it, like I always did, and then went up to him and joined him despite his complaints of wanting to be left alone. When I said he could go to his room and I wouldn’t ‘bother’ him anymore, he noted that the scent of the incense he had used was giving him a headache and he couldn’t stay inside his room today. What a bummer for him, all I saw was an opportunity to finally bond!

I chuckled at the memory as I unclasped the negative Wooyoung was on and excitedly raised it up, close to my face, to see it better. But I froze at the image, wondering whether I have messed up when I was developing the image. Somehow it seemed a little distorted, not much, but if you looked close enough you could see it. The background was unnaturally dark and it almost looked like it was leaving Wooyoung’s body under a mist like form, wrapping around his neck weirdly. The black ink on his skin seemed to be almost glowing and it was his face that made my heart race a little bit, wonder whether my hands were shaky or not when I took the photograph. His eyes seemed to be brightly glowing, only the whites of them visible—much like last night when he had come inside my room—and it made my stomach stir, bringing this unsettling feeling forward in my brain. I have never been scared of Wooyoung before, there wasn’t a reason as to why I would be scared of him, but now I found myself feeling uncomfortable the longer I looked at the picture. There was a creak behind me and my heart skipped a beat as I swiftly spun around, gasping in fright as Wooyoung stood with his hip leaning against a table, watching me with hooded eyes.

My heart started racing in my chest and I quickly hid the picture behind my back as I plastered on a wide smile, “Wooyoung! Hi! You scared me.”

He remained emotionless as he tilted his head, pushing off the table as he very slowly—as if I was his prey—approached me. My heart continued to race in my chest and I wondered how I missed him coming inside the room when the door’s handle was a little faulty and it made a lot of noise. I cleared my throat and watched him curiously, raising my eyebrows, “You’re here to develop some pictures for our project too?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wooyoung muttered, his voice deeper than usual. I gulped and hummed quickly, trying to keep the smile on my face. I didn’t understand why I felt so nervous all of a sudden, why the hairs stood up on my arms. I shared a living space with Wooyoung, we’ve walked in on each other more than once when the other was showering or bathing—so why now was I feeling like I should be running away instead of waiting for him to reach me? It must be that Yunho’s words got to me, and I was already jumpy seeing the negative. Plus, it was dark and Wooyoung was dressed in all black too, his dark eyes almost invisible as the whites of them shinned brightly. He was dressed in ripped jeans that had scribbles on both pantlegs in a language I couldn’t understand, the soles of his thick boots high, making him taller. The white shirt he wore was buttoned up to his neck and peeking through the neckline of the black fuzzy sweater he had on top of it. Wooyoung’s raven hair had gotten longer these past few months and he had decided to let it grow out even longer, the strands now jelled back and falling messily in his eyes. Eyes, which were outlined with dark eyeshadow and kohl eyeliner, making him look menacing for once. His many earrings matched his silver piercings, and I felt myself step back when he was stood in front of me.

My heart was now racing so fast I could feel the vein thump in my neck, making it harder to breathe when a smoky and intense scent hit my nostrils, Wooyoung’s perfume had always been distinctive and strong, “Got something you want to show me?”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as Wooyoung took another step, backing me back up into the closet behind me. I chuckled and shook my head, feeling confused all of a sudden. His expression bore no emotions, but his lips slightly twitched and his eyes narrowed, and I could swear he looked almost amused.

“N-no, not really.” His lips pulled into a smirk and then he reached out, making me freeze as his arm went around my hip and his cold fingers lightly traced the back of my palm until he gripped the negative I was holding, and ripped it out of my grip. My eyes widened and I coughed as he chuckled, raising an eyebrow mockingly, “Oh, I—I took that when we were studying, remember?”

“I rarely forget things, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s voice dripped with honey, sounding too nice compared to how he usually talked to me, “You took this photo without my permission, now look how it turned out.”

I gulped and looked at it again as he turned it around for me to see, making me inhale deeply. Something still wasn’t right with the picture, but I suppose I fucked up when I had developed it. I exhaled and leaned back against the closet, giving him an easy smile, “It’s not you, I probably messed up developing it.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and his smirk widened, he was almost leering, “It’s not me looking like a monster of your nightmares, but you messing up the developing of it?”

“Yup,” I shrugged and took the photo from his grip, smiling brightly again, “and I don’t have nightmares so I wouldn’t know what those sleep demons look like.”

Wooyoung’s sharp eyes narrowed and he leaned incredibly close, making me gulp as I laughed nervously under my breath, feeling a little weird due to our sudden proximity. He usually fled the room if I was inside it, and if we happened to accidentally touch he’d glare at me and rub at his skin as if I had rabies or something, “Would you like to meet one?”

“Not really,” I scoffed, quite glad that I had my peaceful sleep every night, “besides, I have my own little demon living with me, why want another one?”

“What?” Wooyoung froze, expression falling as I giggled and playfully pushed his shoulder.

“You’re a little rascal,” I started, giving him a smug look, “you act like you hate me, but I know deep down you’re secretly into me.”

Wooyoung scoffed as if I had said something very inconvenient to him, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I cannot stand you, Y/N, you’re too cheery and irritating.”

“Sure.” I giggled and leaned forward, our faces merely inches away once again. Wooyoung’s eyes flickered down for a second, then all over my face before he was back to glaring deeply into my eyes, “Are you possessed by a little demon or something? Is that why you sometimes act so animus?”

Wooyoung chuckled, his lip pulling back into a smirk as he turned his head and leaned forward, lips brushing against my ear. I froze once again, taken aback by how bold he was being. Like I had said, he hated it when we touched.

His lip ring felt weird against my warm ear, and I gulped as his voice had dropped lower than ever before, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I would, very much so.

Today has been a long day. It almost felt like it never wanted to come to an end. Maybe because I’ve been studying all day long, blessed as our one and only Friday class got cancelled due to our professor catching a nasty flu, and so, I could sleep in and then…study all day long thanks to my misfortune. It was tiring, brain maiming, and absolutely atrociously torturous. But I have survived it and now I’m twice as smart as I was before I thought of looking through the professor’s power point presentations and the book he wrote and selflessly promotes every chance he gets. I mean, I get it, money from a side hustle always comes in quite handy. But the torture and suffering are over now, and all I have to do is get ready for tonight’s movie date with Yunho! We had been planning on having a movie night for quite a while now, but failed to find an evening when we were both free. We have agreed that as long as Yunho brought the snacks and alcohol, I’d be the one cooking for the night. Which turned out to be a fun and entertaining feat to do after the day I have had. The little speaker connected to my phone was blasting my favourite ass-shaking music as I cooked the ramen, probably having bought too much for just two people. But that wasn’t an issue, at least Wooyoung and I would have leftovers for tomorrow. The little sausages were the first thing I got to prepare as I fried them in a pan in a little sunflower oil since they work well with corn-cheese and the ramen I was preparing.

I was in the middle of stirring the ramen with one hand and putting more mayo into the bowl containing the corn as I was nearly shouting the lyrics of the song playing, unaware of the presence lurking behind myself. I raised my right hand holding the spatula in the air, hitting the beat as I scratchily whipped out my best high note to match the singer’s, shaking my ass in the process as I whirled around, jumping just slightly forward. Something cold and sharp poked my abdomen where my crop top had ridden up, and my eyes widened as I jumped in fright having come face to face with my dormmate, Wooyoung. His expression was cold and very unimpressed, brows set in a deep frown and lips pulled into a grimace that screamed disgust, and—his favourite butcher knife was clutched tightly in his right hand, the sharp edge of it pressing just slightly against my flesh.

“Wooyoung!” I exclaimed with a grin and scurried off to lower the volume of my music, “Hi! I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“With the way the music was blaring, I’m not surprised.” Wooyoung hasn’t moved from his spot as I went to take the cooked ramen off the stove, making way for my corn-cheese.

“Sorry, figured since I was alone it wouldn’t be bothering anyone—”

“Just our neighbours.” Wooyoung muttered and then finally moved, lowering the knife as he walked up next to me, leaning against the counter. The knife was still held firmly in his hand, but upon one prolonged stare at the side of my face, he placed it on the counter with a drawn-out sigh. I flashed him a wide smile as I placed the ramen away from the edge of the counter, not wanting the pot it was cooked in to burn our skin if we were to accidentally touch it.

“Yunho is coming over in a bit to watch a movie, do you mind?” I asked Wooyoung as I went back to the stove, placing another pan onto it before I poured some oil in it. Wooyoung grimaced, giving me a small glare as he suddenly approached me, pushing my hand away when I went to grab the bowl of corn, mayo, and a little bit of butter.

“My kin is coming over too.” I giggled at the weird word he used for the term friend, already knowing who he was talking about. The tall guy, as tall as Yunho probably, was a rather intimidating guy, more so than Wooyoung was. His sharp eyes were piercing and he always scrunched up his nose when he looked at me, tilting his head as his eyes followed my every move. He was quite the oddball, but he was hilarious, and besides that Choi San guy, he was the only one who could make Wooyoung laugh so loudly that it sounded like I was living with an evil witch or something. Mingi was quite cool and rather similar to Wooyoung, I could see why the two were friends.

“If Mingi is coming over too,” I grinned as I leaned closer to Wooyoung, but he was busy pouring the corn into the pan to notice me, “the four of us could have a movie night!”

“Absolutely not—” Wooyoung flinched as his head whipped around, probably surprised by the proximity. I chuckled and leaned away, grabbing the cheese as I sprinkled it over the corn in the frying pan, “Mingi and I don’t want to join you for your stupid movie night.”

“Wooyoung,” I whined, pouting in a way I knew would irk him, “please, I already made too much food. Mingi loves ramen and corn-cheese, you always make it for him when he comes over. Wooyoung, please, don’t be a party popper!”

I knew the whiney and high-pitched tone I used would drive Wooyoung up the wall, and he squeezed his eyes shut and then hissed when I leaned closer to bat my eyelashes at him in a disgustingly cute way. He didn’t appreciate it, obviously, and gave me a nasty stare.

“I’ll burn you alive if you act like that ever again.” I gasped in delight as Wooyoung threw another harsh glare at me, knowing that he had given in already. I blew him a small kiss and squeezed his bicep playfully as he wore a loose sleeveless tank top. The blank ink looked to be swirling around underneath his sun-kissed skin, and my eyes lingered on them before I went to wash up the dishes I have used for cooking.

Despite Wooyoung’s initial sour mood and snarky comments, once the four of us got together, him and Yunho seemed to be enjoying themselves the most as the two of them forced Mingi and I through a variety of board games. I was in a team with Yunho and Wooyoung with Mingi, and the two were at each other’s throats as Mingi and I sat back and let them battle it out in Activity. But Mingi, having been ogling Yunho since the second he stepped foot in Wooyoung and I’s dorm, wanted to switch up the teams and due to his plan backfiring, the two of us were stuck as teammates in a game that we were so very embarrassingly loosing as Yunho and Wooyoung powered through all stages, obliterating us as best as they could. Having known Yunho for more than five years, I could notice the subtle jabs he’d send at Wooyoung, the way he’d ‘accidentally’ elbow him in the ribs way too often, or the way he barely let Wooyoung do his own thing once they became teammates. Wooyoung being rather smart had noticed it too, and besides the unimpressed glances and hasty glares, he let Yunho be without voicing his ever-growing irritation.

Alcohol got mixed into our games, and after we ate the dinner I had cooked, it seemed like everyone got bolder as we started randomly throwing shots back of whatever hard liquor Yunho had bought, our actions to be regretted probably tomorrow. The music was turned up to a normal volume so that it wouldn’t bother our neighbours and our laughter echoed in the living room more often than not. The alcohol made my skin feel tingly and there was a pleasant buzz in the back of my head, up-lifting my mood even more as I let loose after the stressful day I have had. Yunho, tipsy but not dumb, stuck to my side as best as he could, muttering things to me about Wooyoung he had noticed, and I decided to let him be and nod along to whatever far-fetched thing he was saying. Like the fact that his tattoos looked rather like pagan sigils used in witchcraft than just normal tattoos, or the fact that his eyes continued getting hazier and darker the further we got into the night, the whites of his eyes almost glowing. And then there was his irrational fear of Mingi, flinching away any time the blonde as much as looked his way, making Yunho almost climb on my back when Mingi decided to sit next to him, their legs and shoulders brushing against each other. I had to give it to Yunho, there was something weird about Mingi that I haven’t noticed before. He looked to be borderline salivating and it was almost as if he was constantly sniffing the air—and if he leaned in and took a deep waft of the air after Yunho basically ran off to the bathroom, I decided to store that away in the back of my head and analyse it another day. Similar to Wooyoung, Mingi had thick tattoos lining his chest—he was rather fond of deep cut V tank tops—and his arms had wire-like ink decorating his fair skin. The guy sometimes looked sickly, and his platinum hair only added to his pale complexion. I have asked Wooyoung more than once if Mingi was okay, and apparently, he just rarely went out in the sun. Come to think of it, the two had similar dressing styles and even spoke similarly; maybe they are from the same province.

Before we’d sit down and start the movie—something Yunho has chosen and I already forgot the name of—I went to the kitchen to mix another cocktail for myself, a lot tamer and less alcohol infused compared to the last one Mingi had mixed for me. I was in the process of pouring Vodka into my tall glass just as Yunho came basically bulldozering inside the kitchen. His eyes were wide as I looked back, and his cheeks were completely flushed, having reached his ears even. My eyebrows rose and I chuckled amused as he rushed to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing his face and soaking the collar of his white t-shirt, his silver rosary not hidden underneath his t-shirt anymore.

“Are you okay—” Before I could finish my sentence, his head whipped around and he gave me a wide-eyed stare.

“No!” He exclaimed and then glanced behind himself frantically, as if he was being chased by a monster and had to hide, “That guy—Mingi, there’s something very wrong with him, Y/N!”

“What do you mean?” I asked confused, grabbing the cranberry juice to mix the Vodka with, “Does this have to do anything with your whole belief of Wooyoung being a serial killer?”

“But he is!” Yunho whisper-exclaimed, crowding against my side as he leaned down so that he could continue whispering, “And Mingi isn’t completely sane either—he sniffed me in the hallway when we crossed paths when I was coming here and he was going to the bathroom! He literally leaned in, crowded me against the wall, and sniffed me, Y/N!”

I pressed my lips together and hummed, closing the lid of the cranberry juice as I grabbed a teaspoon to mix the drinks, “Yeah, he’s probably drunk too. People act weird when they are drunk. Remember that one time my ex tried to jump out of a window almost blackout drunkenly?”

“That’s—Hongjoong was a freak! You can’t compare him to Wooyoung and Mingi!” I leaned against the counter and raised my eyebrows at my best friend, intrigued all of a sudden where this conversation was going.

“So are you saying you two slept together because he was a freak and not because maybe he’s not so straight and you were drunk as fuck—” Yunho’s eyes widened into saucers and he pressed his palm against my mouth, his blush spreading down to his neck and no doubt to his chest. He looked mortified as he gaped, apparently struggling to find his words just yet.

“That—that was—that’s irreal! I never—I didn’t even know he was into me!” Poor Yunho, I tried to maintain a serious face as he spiraled even more into despair, his other hand clutching my nape, “Girl, we agreed to never bring that up, why are we talking about Hongjoong and I sleeping together, I—wait, I thought you didn’t care, Y/N, is this why you love to torture me? Because you secretly hate me?! You weren’t even together anymore; you have long forgotten about him and I was on a resort on a vacation with my miserable family and he was there and he was hot and I just—”

The laughter I couldn’t hold back anymore was loud and atrocious as I threw my head back, my throat starting to hurt from how loud it was. I could feel tears spring into my eyes as I held onto the counter for dear life, Yunho becoming speechless as he grabbed my glass and took a long sip of my drink. My belly was shaking and contracting from the good laugh I had, and once I had calmed down, I had to wipe my tears away. Yunho looked a mixture of angry, in despair and amused, and I threw myself at him as my arms tangled around his neck, hugging him tightly like I knew he liked it. His body was tense, but then he slowly eased up into the embrace and returned the tight hug, sighing loudly into my ear.

“Baby, Hongjoong is a closed chapter—has been for long—I’m actually glad you got the best lay of your life with my ex, even I can’t deny he wasn’t good in bed.” A beat of silence passed before we burst out laughing at the same time, Yunho’s body shaking as he nuzzled his nose against my neck affectionately, “How the fuck did we end up talking about Hongjoong when you were just being paranoid over Mingi for no reason?”

“Not for ‘no reason’, woman!” Yunho exclaimed and pulled back, eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed my glass again and took a long sip—there goes the drink I mixed for myself, “He looks at me like he wants to eat me—”

“Is that so bad?” I wriggled my eyebrows suggestively and Yunho groaned, grabbing my chin.

“Focus, woman.” He pointed his finger at me in warning, and I giggled as I stuck my tongue out, licking at his hand because I knew it would disgust him, “In an ideal setting, it wouldn’t be bad, but his saliva was literally dripping down his chin, Y/N! And I don’t know how else to put this into words, but he looks demonic, okay?!”

I chuckled, my eyebrows shooting up at what my best friend just said. Okay, we were apparently reaching the delirious stage of drunkenness, “Well then…Wooyoung and Mingi are one demonic bestie duo, huh?”

“I am being serious!” Yunho exclaimed in annoyance, fed up that I wasn’t on the same wave length as him, “You’re so irritating, you never believe me. But you will see it’s going to bite you in the ass—”

“Isn’t that what you want Mingi to do to you—”

“We’re watching that movie, now!” Yunho pressed his palm against my mouth again as I giggled, grabbing a bottle of water as Yunho took my glass and pulled me after himself, back inside the living room. Mingi was sprawled out on the sofa with Wooyoung sitting in front of the bed, typing away on his phone. As Yunho and I barged inside, Wooyoung lowered the volume of the music and Mingi sat up, eyes almost glowing as he leered in Yunho’s direction. My giant best friend grimaced and gave me a pointed stare as he went to fetch the remote control.

“Are we watching that movie now?” Wooyoung asked unimpressed, raising one eyebrow as I plopped down on the pillow next to him, leaning close as I grinned.

“Yes, excited?!”

“No, I’d rather be sleeping.” Wooyoung muttered and gave me a short glare before he grabbed the glass Yunho had placed on the coffee table to take a long sip of it.

“Hey! I made that drink for myself, why is everyone else drinking it but me?!” I whined and slapped away Wooyoung’s hand as he placed it back onto the coffee table, barely anything in the glass anymore, “Asshole.”

Wooyoung smirked as he looked at me, making me roll my eyes at him. Yunho, huffing loudly as he ruffled his brown hair had finally found the remote control as he joined us, leaning against the sofa, eyes switching between myself and all the empty space next to Mingi, “Won’t you sit with me?”

“I’m going to sit with you.” Mingi’s deep voice was strong and determined as he grabbed Yunho’s arm, basically yanking him down next to himself. Yunho went stiff as his eyes widened, sending me SOS signals with his eyes, but I just chuckled and turned my back to him, knowing that I’d never hear the end of it. Wooyoung’s jaw hung open as he gave his friend a rather nasty glare, subtly shaking his head no at Mingi, the two communicating with their gazes. I snatched the remote control from Yunho and finally turned on the TV, wanting to get on with this movie watching already. If I heard Yunho gasp and looked back to see Mingi squeezed uncomfortably tightly against his side, eyes boring into the side of my best friend’s head, I bit back the laugh that threatened to bubble up and instead kicked Wooyoung’s leg to annoy him.

The movie took nearly three hours and by the time we have watched it everyone was sleepy, and so, the movie night was cut short as the time was nearing 2am. Yunho was drunk, not to the point that he wouldn’t be able to take care of himself, but he’s had brighter times. I proposed to him to sleep over tonight, but he insisted on going home as he apparently had to be somewhere early in the morning tomorrow. I just shrugged and then offered to walk him home, having sobered up enough, but he insisted he was a big guy and that he could take care of himself. And as if Mingi had been planning for this moment, he swept in and said that he’d make sure Yunho got home safely and that he'd text Wooyoung to let me know my best friend was safe and sound in his little apartment. I didn’t know how to proceed next, knowing that Yunho felt uncomfortable around Mingi, but when I opened my mouth to interject, Yunho threw a heated look Mingi’s way and scoffed, clumsily tying his shoelaces as he accepted Mingi’s offer, yanking the blonde man out of our dorm by the collar of his leather jacket. Wooyoung just blinked and then gave me a lasting look, sighing deeply as he muttered something under his breath which sounded a lot like Yunho had no idea what he had just done. Suddenly feeling a little bit skeptical, I could only hope Yunho was wrong about this whole serial killer fiasco.

“Mingi’s a good guy, right?” I had asked as I followed Wooyoung into the kitchen, my phone still connected to the speaker as music was quietly playing in the background.

“Why, do you fear for your beloved Yunho’s life?” Wooyoung’s voice was coated in amusement, but there was something darker in its undertone, almost morbid like fascination. I was taken aback and hesitated for a second in the doorway.

“He’s my best friend, somebody I love. Of course I fear for his life, should I call the cops—”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Wooyoung’s eyes were crinkled as he turned his head, the first time he’s ever looked amused by something I have said, “Mingi won’t do to him anything your friend doesn’t want. I know you noticed him acting weird, but that’s just what alcohol does to Mingi.”

I felt myself relax a little upon hearing Wooyoung’s words, and I grinned as I waltzed inside the kitchen, pulling myself up to sit on the counter by the sink, “I knew it, I told Yunho he was just overreacting, but he never really believes me.”

Wooyoung paused for a second and then turned on the faucet, taking the sponge to pour dishwasher on it, “Maybe you’d live longer if you had listened to him…”

My eyebrows furrowed as I handed Wooyoung the first dirty bowl, “What do you mean?”

He chuckled as he washed the bowl and I crossed my legs, narrowing my eyes at him. He didn’t seem drunk despite having drunk twice the alcohol I have, but then again, I didn’t know much about him. He was quite the mysterious person and kept everyone at arms-length. However, I did notice he was touchier than usual, kissing Mingi’s cheeks rather often while we were playing board games, especially if Mingi nailed something.

“You’re naïve,” Wooyoung answered as he looked at me, taking the other used bowl I handed him, “and too trusting of others, my love. People will take advantage of you.”

“Nobody’s taken advantage of me before.” I huffed and watched as Wooyoung washed the rest of the dishes, a smirk on his lips as he kept glancing at me, “And just because of what I seem to be like to you and to other people doesn’t mean I’m dumb, or that I don’t notice things.”

Wooyoung smirked as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink, leaning closer to me as his eyes seemed a lot darker than they usually were, “Really now? Do you just play dumb then, for the fun of it?”

“Not for the fun of it,” I averted my eyes as Wooyoung bit his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my body as I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a little flustered under his watchful gaze, “it just happens, it’s what my personality is like—and I know you don’t like me.”

“I’ve never said I don’t like you.” Wooyoung tsked, leaning closer as he continued to wash a pan, “I’m just not too fond of obnoxious personas.”

I scoffed and grinned at him fakely, making him smirk for the nth time tonight as he turned his head and looked down at the pan he was washing. I didn’t say anything to him as I continued looking at him, wondering whether the lights were playing a trick on my eyes, or whether the black ink really seemed to swirl under his skin. A bit too curious and with the last remnants of the alcohol in my system pushing me to do as I wished, I tentatively reached out and gently traced the abstract tattoos on his left arm. Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing as he whipped his head around, his serene demeanor back to its unimpressed and glaring one. His muscles tensed the longer my fingers touched his soft, but unnaturally hot, flesh and he suddenly turned the water off with his other hand, all the dishes washed. I snapped out of it and gulped nervously as I looked away, turning away from Wooyoung. I could feel his eyes on me as he walked towards the table and grabbed a towel to dry his hands in, lips slowly morphing into another attractive smirk.

“You know,” He started, voice low and almost sultry, “humans usually cherish their lives and have a deep rotted fear of losing it.”

I hummed and picked at the cuticle of my thumb, seeing him approach the counter from my peripheral vision.

“I’ve never quite met someone like you,” He paused and chuckled, and I saw him grab something from my peripheral as I had drawn blood from ripping the cuticle up, “a little stupid and ditzy, yet loving life so intensely.”

I gulped and finally looked up, eyes falling on Wooyoung’s right hand as it was slowly inching towards his abandoned butcher knife. I felt a lump raise into my throat as I looked back in his eyes, the same feeling that I have felt in the darkroom returning. I felt like his prey once again, defenseless and unable to run or hide if he were to do something unacceptable to me. His dark eyes seemed like endless pits of darkness, boring into mine as its whites seemed to glow brighter. I gulped again, hoping for the lump to disappear, but instead, something deep coiled in my stomach as his thin fingers wrapped around the handle of the butcher knife, his plush lips pulling into a sly smirk. He looked amused; his sun-kissed skin almost glowing as if he was feeding off of something. His upper teeth got caught in the silver piercing in his bottom lip, and I found myself wondering again what he tasted liked. I cleared my throat and licked my lips, our gazes connecting as Wooyoung raised one eyebrow, looking like he knew something I didn’t. My heart had picked up its rhythm, beating quickly, almost in anticipation as he dragged his hand against the counter, the sound of the knife getting dragged across the counter making me wince.

“You should have left when you still could—” I didn’t think for another second, pushing the alarming bells to the back of my mind as I jumped off the counter, marching up to him. Wooyoung seemed taken aback by my confident stance, and as his eyebrows furrowed, whatever he was about to say swallowed down, the littlest remnants of alcohol in my bloodstream fueled my curiosity strong enough to make me grab onto his cheeks and yank our lips together. Wooyoung yelped, the sound getting lost in the back of his throat as my eyebrows furrowed, his face just as hot as his arm was. But I was curious—and sort of needy from all that alcohol—and so I didn’t pull back, no, I pressed my lips harder against his, his silver lip ring cutting into my own lips. I ignored the tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to run, to get as far away as possible from this peculiar man. Suddenly, I felt his left hand grab my wrist harshly. My heart was hammering against my chest, making my temples sweat as Wooyoung’s body heat was too warm, and at last, I decided to pull away. Now at least I knew what his plush lips felt like, soft and a little wet, the lip ring prominent and cold against the flushed skin.

My grip loosened around his cheeks and I had started pulling back when suddenly something loudly crashed against the tile floors, and both of Wooyoung’s hands had me pulling back in by the cheeks as his calloused hands harshly cradled against my cheek. My eyebrows shot up, but I fluttered my eyes closed again and instead pressed our bodies together, fingers tangling into his loose t-shirt at his sides. Wooyoung’s perfume was still as overbearing as always, and it made me feel lightheaded as he suddenly parted his lips, sucking my lower lip between his teeth to clamp down onto it harshly. I hissed and tangled one hand into his long black hair, slightly yanking on the strands to get him to release my bottom lip. Wooyoung chuckled deep in the back of his throat and finally released my lip, pulling back. My eyes opened as I threw him a glare, and from being this close to him, I could finally see his eyes were black and the whites of them were actually glowing. Before I could allow my brain to really react to that discovery, I pressed my lips back against Wooyoung’s, walking him backwards as our lips slotted against each other perfectly. Our pace wasn’t slow and sweet nor patient, it was rather rushed and sloppy as Wooyoung kept trying to bite onto my lower lip, his teeth feeling sharper than anyone’s before; he could’ve drawn blood if he wanted to.

He gasped when he collided against the table and I smirked as I pushed him against it, throwing my left arm around his shoulders as I played with his hair with my right hand, Wooyoung’s legs parting as he leaned against the table comfortably. To tease him as I figured he’d hate it, I pulled back just enough to lick at his lips, prompting him to tsk and open up his lips enough for me to slip my tongue past them and into his open and inviting mouth. Wooyoung moaned in an instant, fingers of his left hand digging into my lower back, my t-shirt having ridden up, his nails burning my skin as they dug into it, and I felt my legs go a little weak as he eagerly sucked on my tongue, more moans leaving the back of his throat. I didn’t think he’d be very vocal, and suddenly I felt heated all over as he pulled me even more into himself, to the point it was almost painful, his right hand holding onto my neck firmly, fingers curling around my skin.

I let him lick into my mouth, explore it to his liking as my left hand travelled down his shoulder to his pecks, squeezing and fondling his nipple through the t-shirt, making Wooyoung groan as he suddenly whirled us around, placing me up on the table. I gasped and found myself pushed down against the table by the hand Wooyoung had around my throat, his eyes glazed over as I struggled to catch my breath, Wooyoung’s chest was rising and falling rapidly as well. His lips looked swollen and I bit my bottom lip as Wooyoung ever so slowly leaned down. His fingers tightened around my neck and made my stomach coil as he suddenly leaned down, lips brushing against the exposed skin of my lower stomach due to my tank top having ridden up again.

The breath stuttered in my throat as he pressed his lips firmly against my skin, his piercing feeling cold against my flushed skin, and I grabbed his wrist with one hand as he teasingly sunk his teeth into the skin of my stomach, making me grunt as I looked down. But he was already looking up with a smirk on his lips, chin brushing against my exposed skin. I gulped, my grip tightening against his wrist as he held eye contact while slowly kissing his way up, making the hairs on my arms stand up. I trapped him in between my legs as I raised my thighs and wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer in as he lit my skin on fire with his kisses, making it harder to breathe as he squeezed my neck just a little bit more, making me gulp almost nervously.

Wooyoung’s lips were finally hovering over mine and our breaths fanned each other’s faces as we stared down each other, probably wondering where this was going. I tangled my fingers of my free hand in his hair again and brought his head closer down so that I could gently take his lip ring between my teeth, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he whined quite loudly. I didn’t expect him to curse nor to slam his lips right onto mine next, let alone feel his bulge as he rutted against my thigh, making me moan as I was slowly starting to crave some friction. Wooyoung seemed too far gone to care about the quality of the kiss as his lips moved messily against mine, biting at my lips and sucking on my tongue as he rolled his hips against mine more frequently, driving me closer to wanting more. And I didn’t dwell much on the feeling, I grabbed the hand he had rested next to my head and gently guided it down my body, letting it rest where I needed him most. Wooyoung moaned loudly as he pulled back, cupping my clothed core and applying the slightest pressure, making me sigh loudly as I bared my neck more for him to do whatever he wanted with it.

And then—as quickly as everything happened, it all stopped. Wooyoung’s body almost flew off mine, eyes wide and expression conveying complete shock as he stared down at me sprawled out on the table and I stopped breathing for a second as I stared up at him. Yeah, I guess we shouldn’t have done that, perhaps my curiosity led me a bit too far. But I couldn’t deny it anymore, Wooyoung was attractive. He wiped his mouth with the back of his palm and I chuckled as I sat up, running my fingers through my hair.

“This—”

“I’m going to sleep.” I cut him off as I announced with a chuckle, hoping off the table, watching Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Thanks for the kiss, handsome.”

“What the fuck,” Wooyoung muttered and he turned after me as I walked past him, “you know how to make-out?”

I snorted as I paused in the doorway, giving him a sneaky look, “I’m not that naïve anymore, am I?”

“Goodnight.” Wooyoung’s voice had turned cold, unimpressed once again. I chuckled as suddenly Wooyoung’s expression turned nonchalant again, and I shook my head as I was off to sleep off the alcohol and pray that I wouldn’t be hungover in the morning.

And as expected, the alcohol I have drank last night came back full force in the morning, to bite me in the ass. The bile in my throat that threatened to send me running to the bathroom refused to go away, and feeling like a complete zombie, I had no choice but to get out of bed and brew some coffee for myself. It was the only thing that could help this awful hungover, and I stood stared blindly at the counter as I listened to the shitty coffee machine make noises it wasn’t supposed to make. Wooyoung didn’t like coffee, so it was mostly me who used it, and because I didn’t have enough money, I couldn’t buy a better machine. This one would do for two more months, until I was finished with this university year—not that I was too happy of moving back home for the summer break, but it had to be done as I didn’t have a job yet and couldn’t stay in the city. Yunho would probably let me move in with him, but I didn’t want to bother him as long as I didn’t have a job. I sighed as my phone on the table dinged once, then twice, then thrice, and I dragged myself to it very lazily and painfilled. Yunho’s contact name stared back at me as I curiously tapped onto his message, wondering if he was feeling any better than I was.

My fake boyfie<3: Y/N. I…might have fucked up Can I come over?

My eyebrows raised as I walked back to the coffee machine to turn it off, desperate to feel the first drop of caffeine on my tongue.

Me: I’m on the brink of death and I also have to study Did something bad happen? Can’t you tell me through text? My fake boyfie<3: I don’t want to type this down, but it can wait Don’t mind that your best friend is on the brink of death too, for other reasons than you…

I scoffed and took a sip of my coffee, the plainness of it harsh, but very much so welcomed right now.

Me: Stop being dramatic and tell me instead. My fake boyfie<3: Are you free tomorrow for brunch? Me: Sure am, see you at our usual spot? My fake boyfie<3: Yes…unless I get abducted by a fucking demon Y/N. Me: Lol, okay Not you being paranoid again Ttyl

The loud footsteps coming to a stop in the doorway made me look up from my phone, and I smiled upon seeing Wooyoung’s dishevelled form. Someone had a good night’s sleep, apparently, and seemed rather fine despite the many drinks he’s had, interesting.

“Morning.” I smiled at Wooyoung as I leaned against the counter behind me, taking a sip of my coffee. His eyes narrowed as he walked inside the kitchen, never leaving me as he was headed towards the fridge. I snorted and watched as he grabbed the cartoon of milk greedily, then let the fridge door slam shut.

“Shouldn’t you be hungover?” He asked, eyes narrowing as I downed the remaining bitter coffee in one go.

“I am, but can’t let that stop me.” I shrugged, and walked to the sink to wash my cup.

“It’s a full moon tonight, are you going anywhere out?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded suspiciously nice and forced, and I threw him a quick quizzical glance before turning the faucet off.

“No, I have to study for our exam on Monday.” I sighed and wiped my hands down on my pyjama pants.

“Good.” My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung smirked, turning his back to me as he muttered something under his breath. Knowing that I couldn’t waste any more time on useless things, I walked back to my room to study some last-minute things I have missed out on previously. Wooyoung and his quirkiness could wait for another day to be deciphered.

Studying with a hangover was the worst possible idea I’ve ever had, but since I have procrastinated terribly, I had no choice but to power through the suffering like a champ, and save the whining for another day. By 10pm I felt completely brainless and tired out of my mind—quite literally—and so, I have decided it was time to call it a day. I have studied as much as possible, and now I felt positive about passing this class—unless the teacher has something secretly against me, unlike with Wooyoung, with whom he isn’t so secretive about the fact that he can’t stand my dormmate. With a rumbling stomach and body begging for a long and refreshing shower, I pulled my hair into a bun with the short strands falling out annoyingly so, and changed into some fresh pajamas so that I wouldn’t have to carry it with me to the bathroom. I stepped into my flip flops and shut the lights off, throwing my door open.

The first thing I noticed was the salt weirdly scattered in a perfect line right underneath my doorway. That wasn’t there in the morning, and I have never seen Wooyoung place it there before, so I made sure not to smudge it as I stepped over it—for some weird reason waiting for something to happen. But nothing did, and so, with a shrug, I closed the door behind me and looked around the dark living room. Smog seemed to lightly coat the air, and I scrunched my nose up at the overbearing scent of something strong—rather earthy and weed-like smelling—making me wonder what Wooyoung was up to.

I knew his room was off limits, but I also knew he was home. And the smog seemed to come from underneath his door. The whole dorm seemed to hum lowly, hushed voices traveling through Wooyoung’s closed door, and I bit my bottom lip, wondering whether I should approach him or not. But I’ve never been inside his room before and I was curious—I have always been—and almost as if I couldn’t control myself, I found my feet carrying me towards it. The hushed voices turned into low whispers the closer I got, and I found them changing in pitch as I gulped nervously, raising my hand to knock on his door. Despite the weird drive to barge inside, I felt myself hesitate for a second—and then I was knocking on his door, not waiting for an answer as I pulled it open and stepped inside. However, the sight I was presented with wasn’t something usual, nor one I had expected to see.

Wooyoung’s room was coated in pitch darkness, except for the black candles that were placed in a circle and lit up, barely illuminating the weird sign that was painted on the floorboard with black ink. Salt was drawn in a circle around the candles and the drawing, and the room reeked of that earthy and weed-like smell I have felt earlier, making me cough. Wooyoung was sat on his knees inside the circle, in the middle of it, three different ancient looking books opened up, one of them sizzling slightly. He wore a sleeveless tank top once again and grey sweatpants, the black ink underneath his skin darker than before as it swirled around, curling around his arms in weird patterns. The floorboard outside of the salt and candle circle was covered in different runes—I could only assume that’s what they were—and as Wooyoung’s gaze met mine, I was taken aback by his completely black eyes. The whites of them were completely gone, and they instead looked like endless pits of blackness, keeping me rooted to my spot as my eyes widened. When he grinned widely, his teeth were sharper and much whiter than usually, and the image sent my heart into a frenzy.

“Well, well, well,” Wooyoung chuckled, sitting back on his ankles, “exactly who I needed, thank you for making this easier for me.”

I gulped, feeling unsure and really confused, “Uh, what’s this?”

“I suppose since you’re about to die, I can tell you…” Wooyoung chuckled as his fingers touched the yellow paper of the book he had right in front of himself, “It’s a death ritual, my love, more exactly a sacrificial one.”

“Oh,” I whispered, feeling the hairs on my arms stand up, “that’s—I thought satanism is illegal?!”

Wooyoung threw his head back and laughed darkly, making a shiver run down my spine, “Satanism is beyond me, my love, I am what satanist love to blindly and dumbly worship.”

I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as I tried to think whatever that could mean as Wooyoung’s eyes fell back on my figure, narrowing as he leered at me, “So you’re like…a cult leader then?”

Wooyoung’s expression fell for a second, jaw clenching as there was a snort coming from somewhere I couldn’t see. My eyebrows furrowed as I surveyed the room, but the darkness was too permeating for me to see anything beyond it. The candlelight cast eerie shadows over Wooyoung’s face as he grabbed something that lay next to his left hand—his favourite butcher knife. I gulped and considered leaving the room for a second, but I felt rooted to my spot, like something was keeping me there.

“You’re so dumb, it’s tiring at this point.” Wooyoung hissed and I chuckled, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment, “But I also must be grateful to your naivety, or else you wouldn’t still be here.”

“I pretty much don’t want to be here anymore, but I find it hard to leave when something invisible is clutching at my ankles.” I grinned widely at Wooyoung, feeling a little panic rising up in my veins as he chuckled, slowly standing up. Why did he look taller than before? That wasn’t a good sign, was it?! I chewed on my bottom lip, tensely watching out for his next move. That butcher knife clutched tightly in his right hand didn’t seem so inoffensive anymore.

“Are you terrified now that your useless little cross can’t do anything to protect you from me?” My eyebrows raised in surprise as I looked down, patting the golden cross that sat underneath my hoodie. I never thought Wooyoung noticed my necklace, I always wore it underneath my clothes as I wasn’t a very religious person. I only wore it because my mother thought it would protect me from demonic and evil entities and energies. Don’t know about that anymore…Wooyoung looks pretty demonic to me right now.

“I’m more confused than terrified, to be honest, Wooyoung.” I chuckled and shrugged at the same time, ignoring the cold sweat my body broke out in all of a sudden. My heart was still pounding fast in my chest, but I ignored it.

“I can’t be bothered anymore with you; you are so irritating.” Wooyoung groaned as he twirled the knife in his hands, “I am going to stab you, and you won’t scream. And before blood loss can kill you, I’m going to carve your heart out.”

Well, shit. That didn’t sound too pleasant, nor like a fun time. I gulped, my mouth having gone dry, and I plastered on my friendliest and most innocent smile, hoping that it would somehow change Wooyoung’s mind and make him like me in just a few seconds. Perhaps he’d choose someone else for his sacrifice then, “Okay, but…may I know why you chose me for this complicated and totally cool sacrifice of yours?”

Wooyoung froze for a second, looking puzzled as deep giggles came from somewhere in the darkness again, making me look around confused. Was there actually someone else in the room with us?

For a second, the look Wooyoung gave me screamed that I was completely mad, and then he pinched his nose and heaved out a long sigh, “I need someone pure and innocent for this ritual to work. You see, I’m a demon but I’m not exactly very powerful, nor everlasting, just yet and the heart and blood of a virgin will help me rise in the ranks.”

Oh, “Wooyoung, uhm, this is a little bit awkward, but, uh, what I’m getting from what you just said is that you assume I’m a virgin?”

Wooyoung smirked as he stepped over his ancient looking books, “Exactly. You’re perfect for me, my love, I have to thank you—”

“Actually, you don’t.” I cut him off with a chuckle, pushing my hair behind my ears as I felt my cheeks flush, “I’m not a virgin.”

Wooyoung froze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. There was another loud snort in the room, and my eyes narrowed as I tried to see past the darkness to notice an even darker form, but I wasn’t successful, “You can’t lie to me, there’s nothing you’ll say that will save you now—”

“I’m not lying, though.” I shrugged, clasping my hands together behind my back, “I really am not a virgin.”

“What?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyebrows furrowing as he took me in, his dark eyes raking over my body slowly, “How is that possible?!”

“Wait,” I deadpanned, mouth falling open in hurt, “are you saying all this time you assumed I was a virgin and kept trying to kill me?! I can’t believe Yunho was right—”

“Yunho knows?!” It was Wooyoung’s turn to look shocked, eyes darting around the room as they stopped on something further inside his room, near his bed. I looked towards it and narrowed my eyes, trying really hard to see whether there was someone there or not. And then, almost as if a mist lifted off that side of the room, I was able to make out platinum blonde hair.

“He doesn’t know we’re demons,” Suddenly a deep voice spoke up, sounding beyond amused, it was Mingi, “I mean, he doesn’t know you are a demon.”

“Then how—” Wooyoung’s head whipped back in my direction, his eyes narrowing again, “you told him everything?!”

“Obviously!” I exclaimed with a scoff, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I noticed my heart wasn’t beating that fast anymore, even my muscles seemed more relaxed, “He’s my best friend, of course I tell him everything!”

“But then—” Wooyoung paused, pointing his knife at me, “You really aren’t a virgin then?!”

“No, I’m not!” I exclaimed exasperated, rolling my eyes as I saw movement in my peripheral vision, “I literally lost my virginity when I was seventeen, Wooyoung. And I mean, I know you still might not believe me, but there’s someone who can prove it—oh, hi, Mingi—if we were to hit up Yunho right now, he could totally prove that I’m not a virgin—wait! I don’t mean that Yunho and I slept together, because he’s not exactly the straightest person I know—��

“Yeah, I know.” Mingi’s plump lips were pulled into the widest smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief as he finally made himself visible, walking towards us with his arms crossed in front of his chest. My eyebrows furrowed and I took a deep breath to fill my lungs with air, watching Mingi with confusion.

“What do you mean ‘you know’?” Mingi remained silent as he nonchalantly leaned against Wooyoung’s dresser, raising an eyebrow smugly. Oh. Oh. My jaw fell open as my eyes raked over Mingi, something in my stomach coiling as realization dawned upon me. No. Fucking. Way. There’s no way Yunho and Mingi…is that why Yunho was so desperate to speak to me today? Oh, my God, “You slept with Yunho?!”

Mingi chuckled as he looked down at his hands, checking his black painted nails with much interest, “It’s more like he slept with me, but yes, and it was pretty fucking amazing—”

“Can we focus?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, throwing Mingi a heated glare before he turned back to face me, looking rather pissed off.

“Right, right.” I huffed, throwing Mingi a small glare before I looked back at Wooyoung, “You said Mingi was a good guy…”

“I also mentioned he wouldn’t do anything to your friend as long as he didn’t want it—”

“Oh, he rather desperately wanted it—”

“Enough!” I exclaimed, thankful for the invisible force keeping me rooted or else I’d be at Mingi’s throat, beating him up for taking advantage of Yunho when he was drunk, “Fuck, okay, so Yunho was in the next room when I slept with my boyfriend for the first time—and many other times to be fair, poor Yuyu suffered enough because we were often horny—you can literally ask him. I’m not a virgin, Wooyoung, so unless your sacrifice would still work, can you release me?!”

Wooyoung tsked, tapping the knife against his head rather carelessly, “This is bad…I can’t believe I wasted six months on finding ways to kill you, and you aren’t even a virgin. I have to wait another year until I can perform this ritual again, Y/N.”

I scoffed and glared at my dormmate, “Is it my fault you dumbly assumed I was one—why did you even think that?!”

“Well, first of all, you’re super lame.” Wooyoung gave me a once over, pursing his lips as he placed one hand on his hip, “You’ve got no game and you never brought any guys over. I didn’t even see you interact with one, besides Yunho, and he doesn’t count. Secondly, you’re too loud, nosy, and annoying—no guy likes that, my love. Thirdly, I don’t like you, getting rid of you would’ve been perfect, but now I’ll have to continue being dormmates with you for another two years—straight up horror.”

Well, that wasn’t too nice, and it did certainly hurt a little bit, “You know what, fuck you, Wooyoung. You’re not the nicest person—”

“I’m literally a demon, but whatever—”

“Shut up, idiot, I’m talking now.” I snapped, glaring at Wooyoung as I was able to move again, and I stepped closer to his stupid circle, making his eyebrows shoot up, “Despite our differences, I remained nice to you, and here you were, planning my death all this time. You know what? It serves you right that your stupid little ritual failed and you deserve to wait another year until you can try again. And by the way, it’s on you for not realizing sooner, considering what happened last night—”

“Oh, what happened last night?” Mingi grinned like a little child, wriggling his eyebrows at us.

“Shut up, I’m mad at you.” I snapped, directing my glare onto him now, “You shouldn’t have slept with a drunken Yunho, I’m going to beat you up real bad for it, you just wait. And Wooyoung and I made-out—quite heavily at that—who knew Wooyoung is just a whiney idiot—”

“Okay, you’re mad, but you don’t have to call me an idiot in each sentence you say—”

“Yeah, I have to, idiot—”

“Okay, for the record—” Mingi’s hands were raised in the air, eyes big as he looked comically innocent, “Yunho wasn’t drunk by the time we got to the fun part, Y/N. I might be a demon, but I like my partners sober and rather conscious when we get down to business—”

“Just say sex like any normal person, you dumb fuck.” Wooyoung groaned, throwing his butcher knife onto the floor as he sighed, looking at the mess he had created, as if it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t go through with his ritual.

“But I’m not a normal person.” Mingi teased, sticking his tongue out as Wooyoung sighed, running his hands through his hair multiple times. I sighed and turned to leave the room, but Wooyoung yelped, making me stop and turn back.

“Where are you going?!” He sounded rather panicked, eyes wide as I rolled my eyes, “What are you going to do now?”

“I am going to take a fucking bath and if you come inside, I swear to God, Wooyoung, I will cut your balls off in your sleep—demon or not.” I narrowed my eyes at him, “Unlike somebody, I was busy studying my ass off today, and now I have a headache thanks to your awful incense—open the windows for me, please.”

“So, you—won’t call a priest for an exorcism or the Catholic church and the Pope on me?” Wooyoung’s voice sounded small, lower lip jutting out as I looked at him confused, wondering if I had started hallucinating now. Was this Wooyoung’s real personality? Gosh, I desperately needed that bath and sleep.

“Do you still plan on killing me?” I raised my eyebrows as Mingi’s phone buzzed. He smirked as he unlocked it, and I didn’t miss the quick glance he took at me. That fucker, he must be texting with Yunho now.

“Not really.” Wooyoung muttered, sounding rather disappointed. I scoffed and stepped over the threshold, grabbing the handle of his door.

“Great, good to know.” I muttered and plastered on a fake wide smile, “Then, my dear dormmate, can you put out your candles before they fucking burn down our whole dorm? Last time I checked, carpets aren’t fireproof. What sort of idiot sets candles alight near a very flammable thing? And let me not even get started on the wooden floorboards—”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t his first time doing this.” Mingi chuckled, and then extended his leg, putting out a candle with the sole of his shoe. Which, shouldn’t have been on his feet, but I had a feeling he hasn’t come through the front door like a normal person would’ve.

“Oh, shit.” Wooyoung muttered and then quickly got on all fours, blowing out the candles one by one. I shook my head and went to leave, but paused and looked at Wooyoung with a shit eating grin.

“Wooyoung?” He hummed and cast a fleeting glance my way, too busy with making sure no candle would burn his carpet to ashes, “You’ve got one day to study for our exam, you know that, right? And with how much Mr. Kim dislikes you…I wonder if you’ve got some ritual to help you pass your grades too…”

Mingi giggled and then crouched down next to Wooyoung, murmuring something under his breath that I didn’t understand before he broke the salt circle, and stepped inside of it to help his friend clean up faster.

“Can’t you just help me out with your notes?!” Wooyoung snapped, throwing a heated glare my way. I chuckled and leaned against the door, smiling sweetly at him.

“Weren’t you just about to sacrifice me for an everlasting life and more power?” I singsonged, “You’ll have to make it up to me generously before I help you out, handsome.”

“So, like…” Mingi looked up, eyes twinkling with mischief, “with sex?”

“Mingi! Shut up!” Wooyoung and I exclaimed at the same time, making Mingi pout with a hiss as he knocked over two of Wooyoung’s black candles. He grumbled something under his breath again, and then with a loud crack, he was gone. I blinked once, twice, and then sighed, feeling my mild headache turn into a full-on painful pounding. God, if I sleep for a whole week, will this madness stop?!

“I can make you all sorts of potions,” Wooyoung spoke up after the stretched silence, smiling tentatively, “to help you relax while you bathe, or when it’s storming outside to help you fall asleep. If you catch a cold, I can brew you something that’ll instantly heal you or whatever you want, to be honest. I’m quite good at brewing stuff.”

“I thought you were a demon.” I hummed, leaning my head against the door as Wooyoung shrugged.

“There’s many types of demons, my love.” Wooyoung said, the whites of his eyes finally returning as he chuckled, “You’re lucky I’m the nicer kind.”

“Nicer, my ass.” I huffed and closed my eyes for a second as the headache made me feel nauseous.

“I’ll make you something for your headache, Y/N.” Wooyoung’s smile was soft as he stood again, gathering the thick books in his arms, “You go ahead and take a bath.”

“Okay, fine, but if I get sicker, I’m reporting you to the Pope.” Wooyoung froze for a second, and then his head fell back and he started laughing loudly, making me giggle quietly as I watched him place the books on his desk. He turned around and grinned widely as he leaned against his desk.

“So, a soothing potion, and—” His eyes narrowed for a second, and I wondered whether it was a trick of the light making them looked suddenly hazed over with desire, “Sex does fix quite a few issues, you know.”

I chuckled, my eyes narrowing challengingly at Wooyoung as I pushed off the door, undoing my bun, “Really? See you in ten minutes, then.”

I winked and then pulled my hoodie over my head, wearing nothing underneath it. Wooyoung’s eyes widened as they fell onto my breasts and I chuckled, threw my hoodie at him, and then turned around and took off towards the bathroom, skin on fire as I felt Wooyoung’s lustful gaze burn my body apart as I pushed the sweats off too before I stepped inside the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Fuck.” I heard him curse loudly before I turned on the water, letting the bath fill as I smirked to myself upon hearing Wooyoung drop something and curse again, run from his room to the kitchen, then back to his room.

Well, guess Yunho won’t be the only one getting that magick demon dick anymore. Another thing to bond over as besties, yay. At least he’s not getting boned by my ex, again.

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wtfsteveharrington · 4 months

Text

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

we've got so much history baby

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

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

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

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

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

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

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

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

“Where’ve you been tonight?”

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

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch.

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

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

It didn’t work but does it ever?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well.

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

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

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eye twitches involuntarily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You liked riling him up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But tonight was different.

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

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

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

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

Your sheets smell like home.

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

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

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

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

You never did.

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

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

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shitty?”

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

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

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

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

————

11:52 am

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

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

12:17 pm

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

4:39 pm

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

————

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

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

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

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

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

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

The bed feels so much

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

————

11:28 pm

Headed to bed

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

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

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

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

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

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

And there he is.

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

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

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now

————

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

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

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

————

10:32 am

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen!

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

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

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

Ugh!

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

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

But alas.

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

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

Fuck Carmen Berzatto.

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

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

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

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

#♡: c.b.#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear #the bear fic #the bear smut #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy bearzatto x you

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steddielations · 10 months

Text

Eddie’s queer awakening Part 2 | Part 1

Steve doesn’t know what else to do to make Eddie realize he likes him. Never in his life has he had to work this hard at winning someone over. Never.

Even with Nancy in high school, there was always a hint that she wanted him to chase her, which made it worthwhile. Sometimes, Eddie will do something that makes Steve sure he feels the same, flirting back. Then Eddie will do something that makes Steve not so sure, laughing it off.

Steve doesn’t like resorting to bullshit queer stereotypes because he doesn’t exactly fit them either, but Eddie looks like those rugged guys on his posters and album covers. Sometimes it feels like a masculinity performance worthy of King Steve, but sometimes it feels genuine.

Eddie’s not dressing like Bowie, but he prances around on cafeteria tables yelling about sodomy and he’s never had a girlfriend that Steve knows of. He could like both, same as Steve, of course. Or it could be nothing, of course. Steve’s just putting all these moves on a straight boy, about to get his heart broken again.

Robin’s given him countless pep talks, assuring him that he’s right about Eddie when he starts to doubt it. “You sniffed Vickie out just from her VHS returns. If anyone has a functional queer detector here, it’s you. Trust it.”

“What if I ask him out and he rejects me?” Steve fully understands Robin’s worries now, it’s not the same as getting shot down by a girl. “I’ve got enough rumors about me already.” They all wanted to say it in high school, calling Steve a pretty boy in tight pants that spent too much time in the mirror.

Tommy used to shoot them all down. Now he’s not by Steve’s side, snarling at anyone who suggests it. Which was mostly just Tommy trying to convince himself that everything they did under the covers at sleepovers was “just guy stuff”, and he convinced Steve too. To the point where Steve hadn’t even considered any different until a few months ago when he told Robin and— yeah, that was an eventful conversation. The first time he stumbled across the word bisexual— from a Bowie interview in one of Robin’s magazines— it felt like something clicked into place.

“I don’t think Eddie’s the type to out anyone, either way.” Robin’s right. She’s not always right, everything would be easier if she was, but she’s right about that.

“I keep having to pretend to like his shitty weed to get him to come over. Not even the yawn and stretch move worked on him. Y’know, this,” Steve demonstrates, stretching an arm above his head and then draping it over Robin’s shoulder. She shrugs him off with a fake gag. “I kept looking at his lips and I thought we were gonna kiss, but he laughed and poked me in the ribs and called me dude.”

Robin listens to all his boy troubles and then they come up with a plan. Steve decides he’s going to come out to Eddie, just put it out there that he likes guys. In a totally platonic way and hopefully that gets the ball rolling the other way, where he tells Eddie he likes one guy in particular and hopes all his Romeo efforts don’t blow up in his face.

So he goes for it. Eddie strolls into Family Video and picks out a movie that Steve’s actually heard of for once. It’s easy for Steve to throw him a smile and invite himself over. “You know this is the closest thing to a romance movie you’ve picked? No way I’m letting you watch this alone, somebody’s gotta hold your hand through the sad ending, looks like it’s gonna be me.”

Several emotions fly across Eddie’s face, landing on overwhelmed disbelief. “I don’t get it, man. How do you not have a girlfriend? You’d be so easy to fall in love with. Hell, I feel like you've made me fall halfway in love with you already. If I was a girl, I’d date the shit out of you.”

It looks like Eddie wants to clap a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave it.

Steve watches him carefully, trying to think clearly over his heart pounding in his chest because Eddie just said he loves him, kind of. This is it. “Would you still date me as a guy?”

Eddie’s nervous hands jingle with chain bracelets as they tug his hair and hide his face. “You mean, objectively? As a guy would I date another guy? I mean, could I want that? I hadn’t really considered that option until now. Uh. Shit. Wow, this is-”

“Because I would, you know,” Steve jumps to say, as earnestly as he can, needing Eddie to finally know. How could he not know? This is it. Steve didn’t come all this way just to tap out at the finish line. He goes for it. “I’d date you as a guy, Eddie. I’d date the shit out of you, too, just like you are.”

Eddie’s face is flushed now, his eyes wide and swimming with both questions and realizations. Steve snaps out of it for a second, looking around to see the store is thankfully empty, Robin’s still on her break, but this isn’t the place for this conversation.

“Wanna talk about it over the movie tonight?” He offers.

It moors Eddie, he relaxes more and Steve hopes he’s not imagining the faint hint of a smile. “Yeah, that’s— yeah, talk. I can do that.”

“Okay, it’s a date. See you then.” Steve hands over the tape, their fingers brushing and making warmth flutter all through him. He watches Eddie halfway trip out the door, running into it once and pulling on it three times before pushing it open.

Steve can’t stop grinning, thinking about later, determined to tell Eddie he’s already in love with him too.

#it’s hard work being eddie’s queer awakening but somebody’s gotta do it - steve #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #rueswriting #mp

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devilstruly · 3 months

Text

FRI(END)S -

- 'let's put the end in friends'

pairing (drumroll please) - jason todd x f.reader

includes - mutual pining, best friend dick grayson, batfam being nosy as shit, reader is kind of camera shy/insecure, jealous jason but in a cute way, angry confession (personal fav), mild angst but with a happy ending obvi, swearing, briefly mentioned smut (like one sentence at the end) + anything i might've missed

a/n - hi hello...idk what to say honestly. this was a very random idea i got at like 3am and i can just hope that you guys will like it. also my characteristics of the fam are solely based on the webtoon. yes the title is inspired by taehyung's single what about it

@dreamingaboutsakuratrees this one's for you (and everyone else who voted on that poll) <3

'Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Gosh, the camera absolutely loves you two!'

'Thanks, Delilah ~'

Dick sends the photographer a wink, paired with that signature grin of his, and she nearly falls on her ass. You roll your eyes at the scene affectionately, focused on fixing your hair and checking your makeup for the nth time in the past hour.

'Will you quit it?'

Beside you, your best friend whines and you swat him away with your hand, eyes never leaving the mirror.

'I'm sorry! I just wanna make sure it looks good!'

'You look beautiful. You're doing great, you just need to relax. Focus on me, yeah?'

It's honestly impossible to say no to those eyes, you've learned that a long while ago. The fact that he knows the effect he has doesn't help either.

The photoshoot goes by in a blur. You've changed at least five outfits, done the couple shoots, done the single ones, had a lunch break, etc etc. Throughout the day you learn that the crew that works for Gotham Gazette is actually quite nice, which helped ease your nerves immensely.

Now six hours later, you're sitting in your comfortable clothes, in the passenger seat of Dick's car, on the familiar road towards the Wayne Mansion.

As soon as you step through the door you're greeted with a flash of purple.

'How was it?! Tell me everything! When will the cover be out?! What did you wear?! Who did you see?!'

Stephanie looks as if she's about to burst and simultaneously split her face in half with her grin.

'It went...well, it went.'

Beside you Dick rolls his eyes so hard you could almost hear the gesture.

'Don't listen to her, it was great. She was great.'

'Stoppppp!'

You immediately hide your face in your hands, much to the man's amusement. One of Dick's arms wraps around your shoulders and the three of you head for the library.

'Well, well, well, if it isn't Gotham's power couple ~'

'Gross. Everybody knows they are mere friends.'

'We know. But the rest of Gotham is skeptical.'

'You are hallucinating, Drake. This is why you should stop drinking multitudinous of coffee.'

'Listen here you little shit-'

'O-kay!'

Dick, as always, steps in between the two brothers, effectively averting what could result in another prank war between the two. And it's not even prank season yet.

'Damian, you and I need to discuss that plan for tonight, right?'

'What are you talking ab-'

'The sooner we start the better!'

With that the two dissappear from the room, a very confused Damian letting himself be led by a beaming Dick.

Allowing yourself to feel the tiredness from everything you've done today, you plop on the now empty seat on the couch and sigh deeply.

'Cookie?'

'Thanks, Cass.'

You smile gratefully at the girl, sinking into the cushions more and more while chewing on the chocolate chip cookie.

'Sooo...'

Duke begins, the suspicious tone causing you to raise a brow before he continues.

'...When do we get to see the pictures?'

With this, every pair of eyes in the room turns to you, and you have to avoid the urge to groan.

'The actual magazine comes out in a week. But they'll email us the pictures the day after tomorrow I think.'

'I can't wait to see them! I bet you and Dick had so much chemistry in the photos!'

'Honestly, next to him I don't think anyone will notice me.'

'Of course they will! Especially if you did a couple shoot and got all close and-'

A loud slam interrupts Steph and her rambling and all of you turn to look at a very annoyed Jason. Which, to be fair, is just normal Jason.

He's silent when he stands up and walks across the room, hands stuffed in his pockets. If you had to guess, you'd say he was avoiding eye-contact too.

'Awkward...'

'Not helping Duke.'

- a few days later -

Everyone is sitting in the living room, crowded around Tim's computer, with you and Dick in the middle.

'Jason!'

Dick chirps as soon as he sees his brother enter the room.

'Come look at the photos!'

'No thanks.'

That was the second time that week that Jason refused to look you in the eyes and downright ignored your existence. But you knew better than to press Jason Todd.

Besides, maybe it wasn't even personal.

This was definitely personal.

You haven't talked to Jason in days, and it was driving you insane. The worst part is that you have no idea what the fuck you did.

So naturally, as one does, you'll ask him about it. Deciding that it's best to do it after patrol, particularly after the two of you took down some thugs together and were left alone, you refuse to go back home until you two work this out.

'See you tomorrow.'

'Jason.'

Red Hood stops dead in his tracks, and despite his back being turned to you, you can see the tension in his shoulders.

'This needs to stop.'

'I have no idea what-'

'Cut the bullshit, Jay. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?'

He inhales deeply, mustering up the courage to turn around and face you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, accompanied with a very annoyed glare.

'I'm waiting.'

'It's nothing that concerns you.'

His answer makes you at least five times more furious and you scoff.

'Oh yeah? Well I beg to differ. I think I deserve to know why my friend has spent an entire week actively avoiding me.'

Due to his helmet you can't see it, but Jason rolls his eyes in annoyance.

'Why do you care, anyway? I'd say Richard has been keeping you busy.'

This makes you splutter, completely catching you of guard. His words are on repeat in your mind as you try to piece two and two together.

'What the fuck does Dick have to do with any of this?!'

'You tell me!'

Both of your voices echo off the empty walls in the alleyway before a thick silence takes over. Jason takes off his helmet and places it on a nearby fire escape so he can run a hand through his hair.

You watch him, still mildly annoyed, but the sight of his face welcoming nonetheless. And then he looks up and you feel an arrow shoot right through your heart.

His green eyes are soft, dare you say pleading, when they meet your own.

'I-' He takes a deep breath. 'It's the damn photoshoot.'

Before you can ask him to elaborate he's already going off, arms flying every which way with gestures he uses to emphasize his points.

'All I've been hearing for days has been about you and Dick looking all couple-y and what not. I mean you looked gorgeous, honestly why would anyone pay attention to him when you're right there, but god was it getting annoying.'

You have to blink a few times before your brain catches up with his words. Much to his dismay, you don't soften, if anything you look even more pissed now.

'I still don't understand why you've been avoiding me.'

'Because I fucking like you!'

The volume of his words startles you and you swear he was heard a couple blocks away.

'You what now-'

Jason takes a step closer to you.

'I-'

Another step.

'-like-'

Another step.

'-you.'

He's gotten so close to the point of cornering you against a wall, the intensity behind his eyes rendering you unable to look away. You allow yourself a few silent moments to simply appreciate his beauty this close before putting him out of his misery. By your standards at least.

'So this whole time you've just been jealous?'

It takes all of your willpower not to laugh when he deadpans.

'I never took you for a jealous guy to be hones-'

'Shut the fuck up already and kiss me.'

'Yessir ~'

He groans at the term and you make a mental note to use it again later when you're at his apartment.

Who needs to sleep anyway?

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lovelyhan · 2 years

Text

— again and again ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 15.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut

warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF

this is part of the doting on you! series.

smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho

taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn

additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place.

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by.

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second.

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line.

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.”

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu.

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan.

“Five minutes past midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.”

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not.

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about.

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife.

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?”

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared.

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.

“Something’s telling me you’re still hung up on him, boss.”

Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. It’s something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that there’s simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic.

It was the most unproblematic breakup you’ve ever had, and it’s with a famous idol. Who would’ve thought.

“Anyway,” you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. “Care to help me look for the anesthetics? I can’t remember where I put them away last time…”

Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinic’s desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.

You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.

…

One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.

First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home.

When you made it out of the train station for this year’s Chuseok celebration, you didn’t even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parents’ house—flagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead.

You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his company’s cars on the way here—laughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.

The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so you’re rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby ocean—light glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home.

That’s what you should feel; like you’re at home. But the fact that you’re about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isn’t doing your peace of mind any favors.

You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed too…impersonal with how attached they’ve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.

Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pier—sorting out today’s catch with the other fishermen in town.

Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesn’t have anything in particular to purchase for the day. They’re early risers by default.

You can’t really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon.

When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever you’re in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you don’t hear the telltale noise of your family dog’s excitement.

What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shut—slippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.

“You’re back,” he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isn’t even thrilled to see you, but you’re too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. “Mom said you wouldn’t arrive until noon.”

“I wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,” you explain before looking around the garden inside. “Where’s Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?”

Haneul hums before taking your luggage. “Hm. You can say that.”

“What does that even mean?”

As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.

However, the moment you realize who’s holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.

It’s Kim fucking Mingyu.

The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.

You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins.

The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.

What the hell is he even doing here?!

“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!”

The sound of your mother’s voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyu’s presence that you didn’t notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile.

You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you can’t exactly glare at him for not giving you a head’s up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, you’ll play along. For now.

“Are you surprised?” your mother giggles before patting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!”

“Gee, I didn’t know about that,” you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. “I thought he was going to be in New York until next month.”

She laughs again. “Oh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that he’s going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didn’t it, Mingyu-ah?”

The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namja’s leash.

Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. It’s enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namja’s slobbery affection in its entirety.

As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, “What can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of course…”

You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness that’s both familiar and foreign at the same time.

“I missed her the most.”

This is all a charade—that’s what you can confirm from the limited clues he’s dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why he’s suddenly here in your hometown—having arrived earlier than you, from the looks of it—a little later.

What’s important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.

You should be glad.

…But why do those words make your heart ache anyways?

“Of course you do,” you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesn’t easily weigh thirty kilograms. “Come on. Let’s get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever she’s planning on cooking for lunch.”

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that he’s racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so it’s normal for him to be a natural at this.

But even if you know that this is all an act, you can’t help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your grasp—the mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.

Namja whines in your ex’s arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.

A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.

As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.

...

It’s one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when he’s supposed to be overseas.

It’s another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.

Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed.

Except when you’re made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here.

The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize you’re breathing it in a bit too much.

So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parents’ house doesn’t have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.

Oh, and in your family’s eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldn’t be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.

And there definitely isn’t an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.

You totally got this.

An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday.

In fact, as you look around further, you’re reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form.

But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isn’t much to worry about.

Aside from the fact that you’re not together anymore. Fuck.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyu’s handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.

“Your mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,” he says. “Do you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?”

“Do I want to—” you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Mingyu, what I want is for you to explain what you’re doing here.”

He cranes his head. “You said you needed help.”

“Yeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!” you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. “But then you’re suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we haven’t been ignoring each other for months already.”

“Hey, I’d never ignore you.” Mingyu pouts. “I even picked up when you called me at ass o’clock in the morning, remember? If someone’s ignoring anyone here, it’s you, sweetheart.”

You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself instead—refusing to give into his unintentional charms. “That’s not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You can’t blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldn’t be able to help me out.”

“But I’m here, right? I thought you’d be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.”

You are. You are happy to see him.

But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet can’t because your relationship has long expired?

You weren’t ready for that. You don’t think you’ll ever be.

“Look,” he starts with a tone that’s meant to placate you, “you were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. I’m just here to help you out since you’re obviously not ready to break the news to your family. It’s not a big deal.”

You scowl at him. “Mingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You can’t just play house with me here when you’re expected to be somewhere else.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Listen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You don’t have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you I’d still be here when you need me, right?”

How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame that’s long been snuffed out?

The problem with Mingyu is that he’s too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. It’s so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone who’s nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life.

But it’s not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?

“Fine,” you grumble. “Give me a few minutes to prep. I don’t want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.”

You hate how your chest warms when Mingyu’s eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!

He looks like he’s about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.

“You better not be making your firstborn in there,” Haneul drawls from the other side.

Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. “We might be making our second born for all you know.”

You won’t survive this weekend. You really won’t.

…

“Remember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?”

You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. It’s a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but it’s not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.

Besides, if he’s spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.

“Why’d you bring it up?” you ask. “I thought you didn’t like those kinds of dates ‘cause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.”

Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldn’t do anyone harm to entertain Mingyu’s attempt at small talk.

“Hmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,” he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. “How about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?”

You sigh, unsure why he’s even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, “I don’t think it classifies as a ‘date’, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.”

He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyu’s whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.

“The dogs are always happy to see me,” he chuckles. “The cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.”

You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city don’t have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasn’t bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression.

“You better be glad constrictor bites aren’t venomous,” you point out with an airy laugh. “Not even a true love’s kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.”

“It can cure a handful of other things though.”

You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. He’s always been this way, so it doesn’t particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.

“I never really got to ask,” you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. “How are you? You’re not burning yourself out again, are you?”

You don’t see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. “It’s in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. But…honestly? It’s been pretty lonely.”

You make a face at that. “Lonely? You’re literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?”

Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, you’re a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight.

“You can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,” he murmurs. “That’s why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there might’ve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.”

Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasn’t an idol.

But of course, it’s your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now.

“They probably miss you already,” you say. “Don’t you guys usually film content for Chuseok?”

“Yeah, but all of that’s prerecorded. They’re all with their families right now, too.”

“Really? What are you doing here then?” you tease.

Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.

“Who ever said you aren’t family?”

Unfair. He’s being so fucking unfair right now.

But you can’t even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia.

He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being ‘SEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwan’s trusted veterinarian’ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.

You don’t tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.

“It’s a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch haven’t caught on yet,” your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyu’s company car. “Unless you’re already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! She’s already built a good name for herself.”

A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyu’s chest as he pulls out into the street. “You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.”

Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. “Damn straight.”

You don’t express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you don’t resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console.

The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back.

…

The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. It’s a little endearing to think that, even if it’s the first time he’s meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in.

Turns out, one of your cousins’ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parents’ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leave—a request that your ex is all too happy to oblige.

By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and it’s just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didn’t even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway.

“How are you guys doing it?” Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since he’s already had a few beers before your cousins all left. “When my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyone’s existence.”

“Everyone but ours,” Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. “You just have to communicate with each other constantly. If you’re honest about everything both of you are feeling, then it’ll be easier to work things out together.”

It’s so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didn’t go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that you’re already here anyway.

You’ll just have to fake it until you make it.

“But what if the other party doesn’t want to talk about it?” Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. “I wanted to make it work. I really did. But she… She didn’t even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.”

You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.

But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you can’t help but find similarities between the stories.

You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. They’d just gone back from tour, and you know you’re not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I don’t think we’re going to work, Gyu,” you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. “I think it’s best if we just focused on our careers.”

You thought he’d throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.

“Okay,” he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. “Thank you for being with me all this time.”

In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the table—abruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane.

“Then, you’ll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,” he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. “If you really love her, you’ll respect whatever choice she’s come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesn’t involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything you’ve built together.”

When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“It’s a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.”

Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. “You two are so in love it’s actually disgusting. You know what, let’s just go to sleep.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.

You don’t wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. There’s also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyu’s a notorious blanket hogger, and you’d rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth.

Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, you’re already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldn’t have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since he’s last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber?

It’s been too long, and he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.

…

Sometime in the middle of the night, you’re rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.

It’s only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that it’s a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that you’re not exactly alone.

Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry.

“You’ve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,” he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesn’t even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “It’s cold, and it isn’t even winter yet.”

He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if you’re practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You told me back then I’m as good as a furnace on cold days,” he mumbles as he tucks you into his chest—making you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. “If it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. How’s that sound?”

Friend. You know that’s all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze you’re in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time you’ve spent as lovers.

Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmth—something that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by.

He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but there’s an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t think of what he’s doing as anything but a favor between friends. You’re perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.

But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you don’t even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you don’t think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning.

However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.

This is stupid. You’re both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.

You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyu’s fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.

You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isn’t how you should go about it.

“Let’s…” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. “Let’s just sleep.”

Mingyu doesn’t argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth.

For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.

…

The next morning, you’re set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch time—neither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.

But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.

“Can you bring Namja along with you back to the city?” she asks. “He’s been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.”

You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retriever’s health, aside from the usual signs of age. He’s ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isn’t such a mystery to see that Namja isn’t as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end.

Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesn’t sound so bad.

Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the ride—promising that he’s car-trained, and won’t make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.

“I can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?” he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you aren’t always so far away, that is, but choose not to.

The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isn’t behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldn’t end up whining for attention the whole drive back. It’s a setup that you’re pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows you’re not exactly ready to talk about…whatever happened last night.

So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“You sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?” you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. “He might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.”

Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namja’s ears. “I promised I’d have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.”

By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer it’s going to take before you reach Seoul.

Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.

You’re startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,” he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namja’s food and water bowls. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepy—content with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so he’s able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But that’s your first mistake because now, you’re thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didn’t pull them close enough.

You shake your head. No. This isn’t how friends should think about each other.

Whatever happened back in Haenam, you’re just going to have to leave it there.

It’s already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live.

“Guess that concludes our weekend getaway,” Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. “Though it seems that someone’s getting pretty cozy really quickly.”

Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I guess it is,” you murmur before managing a kind smile. “Thanks for having my back, Mingyu. It…means a lot. Really, it does.”

He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isn’t so different from Namja’s. “You have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing you’re in good company.”

Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namja’s namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didn’t need anyone else.

He lived up to his title for years, too—always acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parents’ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.

“You know,” Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. “My family’s in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Aji?”

“Too old to travel around,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?”

You hesitate. This should’ve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldn’t create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In fact…

“What, you haven’t told your family that we split either?” you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

“No, they know.” Mingyu shakes his head. “But they’ve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “You know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?”

When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle.

“It does, but it’s still going to be fun,” he says. “So, are you coming?”

Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldn’t be so fucking difficult.

“Fine.”

…

The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while she’s giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.

“Oh, there’s this one guy who’s bringing in a maltese today,” she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. “I think his name was… Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasn’t been back since.”

Seungkwan’s coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.

You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what you’re trying to say. She’s all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him.

But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that he’s one of the members that doesn’t particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.

He’s dressed discreetly—dark shades, a beanie, and a black face mask—while carrying an adorable pet carrier that’s probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that it’s hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago.

But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.

“Noona, you have no idea how much I missed you!” he wails before throwing his arms around you. “Other vets just don’t cut it for Bookkeu! They’re always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Can’t believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.”

You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. “Hey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. You’re always welcome to come back to have your pets checked—non-showbiz girlfriend or not.”

“That hyung of mine is stupid,” Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. “Well, you’re kind of the same way, but I can’t exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeu—”

“I would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,” you complain.

“Okay, it’s just my personal opinion that maybe you two didn’t have to split up at all,” he huffs. “Mingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when we’re not recording anything? He’s always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyung’s nerves sometimes.”

Listless, huh…

Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie who’s staring outside the door to your clinic, like he’s waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again.

Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu aren’t so different?

“Maybe he’s just going through a blue period,” you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. “It’s been so long since we broke up. I doubt he’s acting that way because of me.”

Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like he’s just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. “Noona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that aren’t related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.”

You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight.

“He wants you back, but he’ll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,” Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. “But now, something tells me that you’re still hung up on him, just as much as he’s hung up on you—if all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.”

Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom… He must’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

“Okay, but why does it feel like you’re using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?” You laugh softly. “Seungkwan, our time is up. And it’s not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.”

“Wh—! Don’t you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?” He sighs, exasperated. “Also, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that you’ll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We can’t stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you can’t resist those cute puppy eyes, right?”

You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.

“Alright, alright,” you relent. “I’m meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.”

Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. “See! You’re having dinner with his family, too?! If you’re not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.”

Now, it’s your turn to pout. “Who are you going to go to for Bookkeu’s check-ups then?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You can’t help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance.

“Point taken,” he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. “But I’m expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?”

You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. “No promises.”

When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for today’s visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You haven’t seen him this excited in years.

Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesn’t need to reiterate what he asked of you out loud—the look in his eyes is already telling enough.

Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not he’s silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days.

Otherwise, he’s happy and healthy ten—going eleven—years into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.

Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasn’t really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. He’s still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.

Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior.

The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where you’re seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows you’re thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.

“I wonder what I’m supposed to do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.”

Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesn’t approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh that’s a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.

Are you picking me up later or not?

…

Dinner with Mingyu’s family is splendid

The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places you’ll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway.

Namja is a bit shy around other animals—a result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, they’re running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.

“Unnie, are you back together with this guy?” Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. “You can do so much better than him, though.”

Their father laughs at their youngest’s comment, and their mother rubs Mingyu’s back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.

“Shut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,” he whines.

“Well, we’re both right.”

You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, “Don’t say that. Gyu wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?”

“He’s always so busy though. Doesn’t even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,” Minseo sulks. “He even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?”

Mingyu pouts. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

She huffs. “Not sorry enough!”

“Well, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,” you say. “He also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and it’s an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, he’ll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.”

You don’t know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.

Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, why’d you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? It’s been so long that you don’t even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were right—your careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.

As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyu’s eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that you’ll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for.

“Ugh, fine,” Minseo huffs, and you don’t think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen a couple that’s broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two aren’t secretly dating again?”

“Minseo,” their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. Minseo’s just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didn’t even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!”

“Speaking of dating again,” their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. “Minseo’s right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. What’s stopping you from getting back together again?”

At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. “Dad, that’s a really inappropriate question, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really just…curious, so to speak.”

He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.

It’s like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didn’t they consider the logistics of it? You’re a full-time vet and Mingyu’s a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though you’re a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.

Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his father’s question still lingers in the back of your mind.

What’s stopping you from getting back together again?

The answer is pretty simple, but it’s not something you’re ready to face just yet.

It’s you. You’re the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant you’ll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, you’re convinced it’s the other way around.

Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love he’s so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesn’t flake out when he needs them most.

Someone who isn’t you.

When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, “Oh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want to—”

“Gyu,” you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. “What are we doing?”

He blinks. “Celebrating Chuseok together?”

“But we’re friends right?” You laugh somewhat bitterly. “Friends don’t normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each other’s families. Friends don’t make out with each other in the middle of the night. And…”

You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me.”

You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you don’t turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and he’s back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.

In the backseat, you can hear Namja whining—ever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking what’s wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyu’s borrowed car.

The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didn’t have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.

When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wrist—forcing you to meet his desperate gaze.

“If I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?” he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. “So I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I won’t ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.”

When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you can’t bear to look away. This is what a man that’s been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems.

And you don’t think you can keep resisting him for long.

“Before I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,” he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, “can’t you at least let me have this? Let me have you?”

You don’t even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you don’t care. Not when he’s desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim what’s always been yours.

He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.

“It’s you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. “It’s always been you. And it will always be you.”

You know Mingyu is a good actor. But it’s so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is.

But tonight, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting yourself fall.

In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, who’s impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.

Once you’ve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shut—all too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off.

The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.

“I don’t remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. “I can’t say I hate the development though.”

“Mingyu,” you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. “Please. I want you.”

It’s so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why you’ve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man that’s currently staring you down like he’s doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away.

But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyu’s thick fingers into your mouth.

“So good for me,” he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand that’s not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighs—cupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. “How badly do you want me, sweet thing?”

“So, so badly,” you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. “Please, Gyu…”

When he’s satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. There’s something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the side—groaning when he finds you already soaked for him.

“You need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. “You want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.”

You want to say that you’re too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesn’t prep you. With how long it’s been since you’ve laid in bed together, you don’t want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.

So, you mewl, “Fingers first. Then your cock.”

Mingyu laughs—a deep, sexy sound—before planting a kiss on your nose. “That’s my girl.”

He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You don’t say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.

“You’re always so quick to get wet for me, baby,” he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. “You’ve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .”

“Gyu, I—” Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand.

“What was that?”

He’s teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

A dozen emotions flit through Mingyu’s face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you don’t quite catch before he’s taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when you’re about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.

Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot.

But he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes off—dark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come.

There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldn’t walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.

“Let’s get you out of that dress, sweetheart,” he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side.

You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didn’t expect to get laid tonight.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mingyu chuckles. It’s either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking. “I’m taking everything off anyways.”

As he makes quick work of what’s left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him you’d ‘clear the air’ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.

You’re pretty sure what you’re doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you don’t really fucking care right now.

You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed.

He’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.

“Can I?” he whispers.

You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. It’s been a while, but you can’t easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.

“Yes,” you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. “Do whatever you want with me, Gyu.”

The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. He’s such a talker in bed, too—whispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.

“So fucking pretty,” he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but he’s left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites they’ll turn into come morning. “And it’s all for me.”

Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach.

“Mingyu,” you whimper against his mouth—hot and heavy. “I need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.”

He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flash—positioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,” he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart.

You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already.

“Shhh,” he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.”

And you don’t doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?

When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if it’s going to hurt. Mingyu’s attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority.

He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.

“I’ll go slow, alright?” he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. “Words, baby. You have to talk to me so I’ll know if you really want it.”

“Gyu,” you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. “I’m alright. Anything you do is alright with me, just— Please. Please fuck me full.”

He sighs, staring down like he doesn’t know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entrance—pushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but it’s not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. You’ve taken Mingyu’s cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.

“Pretty pussy’s happy to see me again,” he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. “Still made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.”

“Yes,” you drawl. “Missed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuck—”

You feel so hot, so full. It’s like Mingyu’s the only thing you’ve ever known—surrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesn’t move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he won’t press forward until he’s sure you’re ready.

“Is it too much?” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you need more time to get used to me?”

Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. “What I need is…for you to fuck me until I black out.”

Mingyu’s lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. “Baby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after we’ve been apart for so long. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.

“But I can still make you feel good.”

He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you don’t expect, splaying your thighs further until they’re flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch should’ve been uncomfortable, you’re too blindsided by the pleasure to notice.

Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionary—something about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think you’re starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.

The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussy—

Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?

“You’re going to laugh at me for this but,” Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. “I think I’m kinda close.”

You do laugh, but it’s quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasn’t forgotten how to get you off after all this time.

“I am, too,” you tell him. “Cock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.”

Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrust—reducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.

“Your pussy’s a fucking drug, babygirl,” he sighs. “Haven’t wanted anyone else after you.”

Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But it’s immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel full—

And then, it’s over—a white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyu’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and he’s all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm that’s starting to stagger.

“So goddamn tight,” he growls. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart?”

You’re still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that that’s the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting down—his cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.

He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.

The look scares you. Like he’s about to say something that you don’t know how to respond to.

So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.

“More,” you whimper. “I need more, Gyu.”

And he’s all too happy to oblige.

Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasn’t present earlier—your mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin.

“Babygirl can’t get enough of this cock, can you?” he sighs. “Seems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

“Yes!” you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. “Love your cock so much, please—”

“Come for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.”

It’s unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your body—sending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch.

Just when you thought Mingyu’s finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomach—pressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but you’re too dazed to protest.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.

“You can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?”

When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheets—having momentarily forgotten that Mingyu’s stamina can go until morning. If you don’t stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.

But honestly? You’re not against the idea. Not one bit.

…

When you wake up the following day, it’s to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyu’s absence.

You never minded living alone. You’ve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. You’re used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.

Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isn’t with you, but you’ve learned to take it in stride.

Besides…it’s not like you’re together anymore now.

This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treat…whatever this is as if it’s a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. There’s nothing more to it.

However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.

He doesn’t notice you right away—too preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where you’re standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Mingyu faces you with a smile that’s nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. It’s the exact same scene that you’re greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesn’t have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile, rubbing Namja’s belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have to go back to New York tonight?”

“Yes, but it’s still morning,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.

A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesn’t want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when he’s binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.

When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is so…domestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.

You pray that Mingyu doesn’t breathe a word about it, but of course things don’t always go your way.

Just when you’re about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyu’s arms—unable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.

“I think,” he whispers, “we can still make this work. You and me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Gyu…”

You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothing’s impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, but…

Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone again…

Maybe it isn’t so bad to let him back inside your heart.

“O-Of course, you don’t have to answer right away,” he says, turning red in the face. Cute. “You can tell me when I get back from New York. How’s that sound?”

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyu’s phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to you—fishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.

“Kim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!”

“Good morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,” he chuckles. “Why? What’s wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I won’t be coming back to the dorms until noon.”

“Well, Jeonghan-hyung must’ve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didn’t make it home!” the younger man squawks. “We thought something bad happened! You weren’t answering your phone last night either!”

You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s rage, too.

“Sorry about that, I was a little…busy,” Mingyu supplies.

“Well, whatever you’ve been ‘busy’ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you don’t bring it back soon, he’s going to give all of us an earful.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.”

“Hey—!”

Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.

“I’ll be back,” he murmurs. “I hope you’ll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.”

Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namja’s head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that he’s been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while you’re dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.

When you hear Mingyu’s car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.

“Kim Mingyu is such an idiot, isn’t he?” you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means he’s agreeing with you. “Why wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?”

This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.

You don’t mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesn’t mind waiting for you. At this point, you’re at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that you’ll definitely show him.

Again and again.

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #fake dating #mingyu smut #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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celestelunia · 2 months

Note

Yk what would be sad. A Vil x GN!reader who keeps changing themselves because Vil keeps insulting everything about them (not on purpose) but he doesn’t realize what’s happening until they just stop talking to him all together because being with him hurts them too much. Nice ending maybe? (I’m a baby and can’t handle angst endings😭)

Hi! So sorry this took a while! Hope you've been well!

First time writing for Vil, but I tried my best lol. Hope you like it!

TW: self-esteem/image issues

"Straighten up"

"That color doesn't look good on you. Try something ligther."

"Hm. That clothing style isn't right. This just won't do."

"No. No. No. It's all wrong."

As you walked down the halls of NRC, you kept a couple of style magazines pushed up against your chest as your once bright eyes seemed darker and less happy.

Vil Schoenheit was someone you always admired, and when you were able to become a part of the rare few people who he considered a friend, you couldn't have been happier. You knew being next to someone like Vil wasn't going to be easier, but you never expected something on this level.

At first, it started with little words of improvement. Ones that you gladly took to help improve yourself, but over time, that's all you heard. Negative words on how you could do better. Look better. Nothing was very good enough, and now it was starting to ware you down. Suddenly, it felt like Vil was saying "you" weren't good enough.

At that thought, you came to a stop as you looked down at the magazines in your hands. It was all too much, and it was getting to the point that you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror anymore. With a sigh, you turned and walked towards the nearest trash bin before you threw away the very magazines that had become your life.

A month had passed, and Vil was starting to wonder what was going on with you. You had slowly stopped coming by his room, attending meetings, and just having lunch together. At first, he figured it was because you got busy since he understood time restrictions and all, but after a couple of weeks, he felt like something was off.

The few times Vil saw you in the hallways the moment you caught his gaze, the model watched as you would turn and head in the opposite direction. It almost felt like you were avoiding him, but that couldn't be right?

......could it?

Over the last couple of weeks, you felt like you could breathe again, but despite that, you didn't feel happy. You couldn't bring yourself to talk to Vil, so you did the next best thing you could think of.

You avoided him.

And that alone was painful. You missed his voice, his company, and when you saw that look of surprise in his eyes when you obviously avoided him cause pain to shoot through your chest.

Despite all of these feelings, you knew the relationship you had with Vil wasn't healthy. You couldn't constantly keep up with his approval, and you wanted him to accept you for who you were.

Faults and all.

"Y/N."

Hearing the very voice you were thinking of calling out your name caused you to freeze. In that small moment, your fight or flight senses went off, but before you could make up your mind, you felt Vil grab your hand.

"Do you have a moment? I need to talk with you." Vil asked as he had noticed that look in your eyes that you might run, so he did his best to cut off your options to do so.

You paused as you considered his question. While you weren't ready to talk about this, you got the feeling you never would be, so you decided to just nod your head as the popular model led you towards his room for some privacy.

Once alone in Vil's room, you glanced around the familiar setting and scent.

"What's going on?" Vil asked, getting to the point.

At the question, you turned to look back at him without answering the question. You could feel that nasty and unpleasant bubble building up in the center of your chest. Did he really not know?

"You've been avoiding me, and I think it's only fair that you explain why." Vil said in his usual confidence.

Feeling that tightness in your chest, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you lowered your head.

"Y/N, if you slouch like that, it will be bad for-" Vil had started to say but stopped when he heard you mutter something. "Speak up. Muttering is very unbecoming."

"This!" You snapped, which caused the blonde to jump as he was startled by your sudden outburst. "The constant complaining and everything!"

Vil froze as he watched your beautiful [colored] eyes glare at him as fresh tears welled up in them.

"I'll never be good enough for you! Why can't you just accept me for who I am? I can't keep being with you as you constantly put me down!"

"Putting you down? I-" Vil said, surprised, but his words got cut off in his throat when he watched you storm over towards him.

"Maybe think a bit harder before you finish that sentence." You said as you told yourself you wouldn't apologize for getting your feelings out. "Not everyone is perfect, Vil. Not everyone can be like you....."

The model just started at you for a moment, but before he could speak, he watched as you walked past him and out of the room. Now alone, Vil just frowned. He had never seen you like this before, and your words echoed in his head.

He didn't put you down. He would never do something like that to you....right? You were the only person (outside of Rook) who he could be himself around. He adored your company...

Taking a deep breath, Vil left his room as he headed towards his vice housewarden room. If anyone could help him right now, it would be Rook.

The next day, you decided not to go to classes as you stayed crawled up on your bed. While you did feel better getting your feelings out, you felt sad at the fact that you might lose your friendship with Vil.

It was weird how the world "friendship" had changed for you over time as you started to notice a change in your feelings, but it wasn't something you were ready to drive into it.

Hearing a knock on your door, you let out a moan as you pulled your blankets over your head. "Go away." You called out as you figured it was one of your friends checking up on you. After a couple of seconds of silence, you thought they had left, but instead, you heard your door open. Holding back another groan, you kept yourself hidden, hoping your friend would get the message that you weren't in the mood to talk.

"Staying in and resting is important."

Instead of your friends voice, you heard Vil's as you suddenly sat up in your bed and removed the blanket from your head.

Standing in the room was Vil as he closed the door behind him.

"What are you doing here?" You ask as even you could hear the coldness in your tone.

"I came to talk." Vil said as he just smiled softly. "And to apologize."

At this, you gripped the blanket that was resting in your lap. Vil apologizing? That didn't sound right.

Noticing that you weren't moving to kick him out, Vil decided to continue. "I want to apologize for my words. I know it's not an excuse, but I didn't even notice I was saying those....things to you. Or how often."

While Vil was a proud man, he also wasn't that proud to lose someone important to him due to his own mistakes. After talking with Rook, he finally had a good understanding of how he had been treating you. "Perfection..." Vil said with a sigh as he looked off to the side of your room. "...is something that has been pushed on me since a young age, and it appears I've picked up a rather nasty habit. I never meant for my words to make you think you weren't good enough." He said as he walked over towards your bed and took a seat on the side of it. "You're already perfect enough. Just knowing I can be myself around you and knowing you won't judge my imperfections..." Vil said as he reached out and placed his hand over yours that was gripping your blanket.

"...It means the world to me, and I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. I understand if you don't want to be around me anymore, but I wanted you to know I never once thought you weren't good enough."

At Vil's words, your eyes widen before you glance down at his hand resting over yours. It was like a weight had been lifted from your chest. "It hurt..." You whispered as you closed your eyes. "I just want to be with you and not to embarrass yo-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you felt Vil gently hand on the back of your head as he slowly pulled you forward into an embrace.

"You've never embarrassed me. I was just wanting what was best for you, and that ended up turning into nagging stepmother's territory." Vil said with a small smile as he tried to lighten the mood. "And I'm sorry I hurt you...."

With your forehead resting against Vil's chest, you let out a long sigh as you took in his warmth. Something about his scent and being next to him always helped you to relax.

"Do you forgive me?" The model asked bearly above a whisper. The longer the silence went, the more he was starting to worry you wouldn't.

"I do...." You said before pulling back to look at Vil. "...but I hold the right to punish you if you make me feel like this again." You said with a playful smile.

"Deal." Vil replied as he mirrored your smile. "I've already spoken with Rook, and I plan on being more mindful. I don't make the same mistake twice."

Taking in a deep breath, you nodded your head.

"Now." Vil said as he suddenly stood up from your bed. "I've cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. How about we watch a movie and catch up a bit?" He asked before holding out his hand to you.

Surprised that Vil cleared HIS schedule for you made that familiar warmth spread through your chest again as you smiled. How you've missed it. "Who am I to turn you down?" You teased softly as you reached out and placed your hand in his.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

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zorosdimples · 7 months

Text

cw: mentions of breeding and some silliness. sweet choso!

choso’s vocabulary is ever-evolving. it’s a unique task, helping a grown man learn to articulate himself. (in spite of the half-cursed blood that thrums through his veins, you insist—always—that he’s a man, first and foremost.)

slang proves to be a never-ending area of education for your boyfriend; he often comes to you, phone in hand, plum eyes all but pleading.

it’s a sunny saturday morning and you’re lounging on the couch with him when he nudges your arm and thrusts his phone towards you. “can you tell me what this means?”

your gazes flits down to the screen. there’s a photo of jennifer lawrence in a sultry pose—likely an editorial for a magazine. “what’s this?”

“yuuji retweeted this photo. he likes her,” choso states matter-of-factly.

he peers over your shoulder and scrolls down to the replies, clicking on the one he doesn’t understand. it simply reads: she breedable af.

you brows shoot up and you swallow a giggle. “oh,” you say, attempting gloss over your initial surprise. “i see.”

“af means ‘as fuck,’ i remember that,” he offers before looking to you.

“that’s right. um, you know what breeding is, yeah?” you swallow, unsure of your own trepidation. perhaps it has to do with choso’s earnestness—his desire to learn, to embrace his humanity, to better relate to you.

he nods. “mating.”

“yep. so, if someone refers to jennifer lawrence as breedable, it means that they… want to breed her.”

“they want to procreate with her,” he asserts.

“uh—basically, yeah.”

your boyfriend seems content with your answer and presses a cool kiss to your cheek. “thank you.”

a few weeks later, you’re getting ready to go out on a date with choso. you’re dressed in a rich aubergine—the same color as his irises. when he knocks on the bathroom door and asks if you’re ready, you open it up with a smile; his eyes go wide.

“like what you see?” you tease, taking his wide palms and pressing them to your waist.

he swallows before nodding a little frantically, firmly holding you like a lifeline. “you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, smearing his lips against the crown of your head. “very breedable,” he adds before you pull him in for a heated kiss.

maybe it’s silly, but you can’t help but hope that his compliment foreshadows the evening ahead.

#this isn’t well written i’m sorry i scribbled it down over lunch #it kinda reads like crack but i think this is something that happens a lot. he trusts you to be honest with him #and you’re more than willing to help!#choso x reader #choso <3

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munson-blurbs · 7 months

Note

Hey sweetheart! You take requests at the moment? I'm currently healing from surgery (ow) and I just want some fluffy Eddie fussing over me/reader

One fluffy blurb, coming right up! I hope you get well soon 🥰

Warnings: Reader is recovering from surgery, mention of prescribed medication, mention of spicy activities, Eddie is a big ol' mush of a boyfriend

WC: 750

The sound of a handbell clanging has Eddie up from the sofa in a heartbeat. He’s learned your communication system over the last few days: one ring means you want some company, two means you’re hungry or need to use the bathroom, and three indicates an emergency.

This was a three-ring.

“Sweetheart?” There’s no camouflaging the alarm in his voice as he pushes into the bedroom. He finds you propped up against the pillows, book in hand. “What’s the matter? Are you dizzy again?”

You shake your head. “Could you get me a snack?” The doctor advised against taking the pain medication on an empty stomach, and you had no intention of breaking that rule. “Maybe some pretzels? Or a slice of toast with jelly?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief. “You rang the bell three times,” he explains, soft irritation clipping his words. “I thought something was wrong.”

Glancing at the bell tucked against your thigh, you frown. “No, I only rang it twice. Or, wait…shit, I did ring it three times.” You exhale, sliding your bookmark between the pages and offering an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“S’okay.” He plops down onto the bed, careful not to jostle your elevated leg. “Just…give me a sec to get my heartrate back down to normal.” Hand to his chest, he takes deep, exaggerated breaths that have you giggling.

“I mean, I could find something urgent,” you tease. “Maybe I’ll try walking without the crutches, or I can take out my stitches…”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles in a combination of disbelief and disgust. “Bullshit,” he counters.

“Bullshit?”

“Bull. Shit.” He grins, gently poking your bicep. “You got all queasy that time you had to pull out a splinter, and you expect me to believe you can remove your own stitches?”

You let out a defeated groan. “Ugh, fine.” He knows you too well, and you love him for it.

He gives you a triumphant kiss on the cheek and starts towards the kitchen. “Anything else the fair maiden needs while I’m up? More water? Ginger ale? Perhaps some champagne and caviar?” His eyes light up mischievously at the last suggestion.

“I’m not supposed to drink on these meds,” you quip, playing right into his charade.

“We’ll take a raincheck on the champagne, then.”

You shift back slightly, wincing as pain shoots through your leg. The surgery hurt more than the injury, and part of you wishes you had just muddled through and hobbled around instead of getting it fixed.

Eddie returns a few minutes later with toast that’s just the right shade of burnt and slathered in strawberry jelly. He has a glass of water in his other hand, though you hadn’t asked for any.

He places both on the snack table he’s set up next to the bed before reaching over and grabbing the bell. He rings it one time, loud and purposeful.

“Can I help you?”

Nodding, he sits down. “I’m bored and need someone to talk to.” He rests his head on his pillow and pouts. “Entertain me?”

“There’s not much going on here.” You shrug, scanning the room for a conversation topic. He’s been taking care of you nonstop, and surgery recovery doesn’t exactly make for riveting discussions. Your eyes land on a magazine. “I read some interesting articles in Cosmo, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie waggles his brows. “Anything spicy?”

You flip to an article that provides explicit details on giving the perfect blowjob and point to the page. “This one was pretty raunchy.”

He studies it just long enough to read the headline before tossing it aside. “You don’t need any help with that. Trust me.” He smirks knowingly. “You probably could’ve written that article yourself.”

“Good to know.” Exhaling, you look over at him. “You can go hang out with the guys if you want. Or they can come over here, as long as they’re not too loud.”

You expect him to jump at the offer; anything to cure his bout of boredom, but he declines. “Nah, I’m good right here.” He snatches up the magazine once more and thumbs through it. “Besides, I need to find out what color palette matches my skin tone.”

“Eddie—”

He cuts you off with his pointer finger. “Shhh. This is life-changing stuff, Sweetheart. I mean, what if I’m…an ‘autumn,’ but I’ve been wearing ‘winter’ this whole time?” His face contorts in mock horror. “Talk about tacky.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

You absolutely do.

#eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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signedkoko · 9 months

Note

Hello! I just found your blog and oh my god I’m obsessed and I’ve read everything

Can I request some fluffy lucifer and Lilith x fem reader who’s really sweet and ultra feminine? Like 9/10 she’s always wearing a dress or a skirt long or short doesn’t matter, loves doing her makeup and doing her hair? and puts hella effort into her appearance on the daily not for her husband and wife but just for herself and because she can?

Lucifer X Reader X Lilith [Comfort]

In which you're as feminine as they come, and both Lucifer and Lilith adore that trait in you.

Lilith likes having you around, because since Charlie grew up theres been a bit of a hole of girl time in her schedule

Being able to give you advice and go to only the best spas in hell, leaving Lucifer behind to enjoy some company time

One of the best parts is when you do her makeup, she always does yours because she was trained from her dancer days, but when you do hers its so gentle

Telling her the purpose of each tool even if she's heard it a million times, each colour and shade, and the small peck you give her when you're done

Lilith is especially amazing with hair, and after helping you doll yourself up for the day its nice to get a good thirty minutes in just stroking through your well maintained hair and decide what'd frame your outfit best

Sometimes when she does your lipstick, she puts it on her and kisses it onto you to give it what she calls 'a faded makeout session look'

Well, it looks good, so who are you to complain

On the other hand, Lucifer is big on fashion and always makes sure he looks like he is making a statement, so he always bring syou back clothes which he has a tailor fix to your exact curve

He always tries to match with you but Lilith tells him off because she doesnt want you to match whatever santa clause aesthetic he has going on

The public loves you, marked as the newest and hottest addition tot heir relationship, which they encourage and tell you about

Lilith will bring you to her magazine shoots and insist only you can style her makeup and hair, though unfortunately they always draw the line at clothes

She thinks you'd dress her better than whatever they do

Charlie is also happy you wormed your way into their hearts, because you are a lot less intensive than her biological parents, and she appreciates how much you visit her

When you suggest Charlie join you and Lilith for some getaways, they both love the idea, so now you get some mothers to daughter time

Author's Note - Back to writing I am actually writing from the airport atm because I am heading back home for christmas! I will have a ton of time to write during that time, since I have now wrapped up my exams. Lucky me! I am 3 pina coladas in and ready for takeoff 🛫

Ayyways, thank you for requesting these two, I actually love poly with them so much and there is not enough of it out there (I would know, I read it all), so I hope I met your expectations 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #lilith #lilith x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader

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vaaaaaiolet · 20 days

Text

You accidentally throw a monkey wrench into supermodel Leon's Calvin Klein photoshoot, but you can't sweet-talk your way out of this one. Kennedy's got your tongue and your panties in a bunch.

Better hope you've got a fix up your sleeve.

f / m, slight nsfw, you just thirst over leon + you're REALLY awkward, fluff + romance, stupid one-liner attempts at humor + hunnigan mention!! I GIVE MYSELF THE ICK.

word count: 913 // read on ao3

a/n: @chesue00 made this GODLY ART. and i RAN INTO PEOPLE in PUBLIC looking at it because it got me so dizzy. i don't know what to DO WITH MYSELF 😭

find more drabbles in my collection: sketches for my sweetheart the drunk!

You’d passed all your English classes in college, but right now? It’d be a hell of a lot more useful to have taken a few in sign language.

“What’s wrong with her?”

The camera crew’s never been able to perfect the art of the whisper.

“Did she lose her voice or something?”

You fumble with the reflectors for the millionth time, bright material projecting your flushed face to high heaven on all three of the cameras’ viewfinders.

There’s a really unfunny joke that starts like this: a photography intern walks into a bar.

Said bar happens to be supermodel Leon S. Kennedy’s back because you weren’t watching where you were going on the biggest day of your career, a Kennedy x Klein collab shoot starring the man you’d only been crushing on for, what, ever since you picked up your first fashion magazine? You’d left a sizeable smear of makeup on the pristine white of his T-shirt as a parting gift, and after that, you’d lost your ability to form words in shame. Mortifying, paralyzing shame.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And as if in agreement, Leon’s agent bristles on the break couch behind you.

He’s still in that stained shirt, by the way. Sipping thoughtfully from a bottle of water while his agent sounds off beside him, but the only thing on your mind is what you’d give to be on his drink’s business end. Condensation drips onto the coffee table when Leon sets it down, drop by tantalizing drop sliding down his fingers, ice melting in his palm that’s just big enough to grab a plush handful of your-

His agent tears through your daydream, madder than a wet hen. ”There’s no time to order an exact replacement!”

“It’s just a shirt,” Leon chuckles, and you hear rolling thunder on the horizon. You’ve got it bad.

“It very clearly states in the Kennedy x Klein contract that we need a picture of you in a white T-shirt.”

“A tiny bit of lip gloss-”

“An obvious stain!” the spectacled woman squawks.

“Stain, whatever – just stop freaking that poor girl out, yeah?”

Your ears perk up rabbit-style.

“Look at her, Ingrid,” Leon continues, and every cell of your body lights on fire because he has to be training his gunmetal eyes on right on you. “Poor thing hasn’t said a word since you started going off about that tiny mark. Turn around, sweetheart, just a moment.”

Who put your feet on a turntable?

“See? Eyes bigger than the goddamn moon.”

And you just might faint, too. But you’ve got to fix this before you do.

“Uhm, we…we could…” he nods when you stutter, patient as a saint, he’d talk you through it for sure, “take…the shirt…off?”

A tilt of his handsome head. “Come again?”

You need to put your money where your mouth is. Even if the latter’s on strike right now. Pointing your chin back towards the set, you jerk your head for him to follow. Leon’s agent pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something about leaps of faith from chandeliers and not again, but the man in the stained shirt couldn’t seem to care less. His eyes gleam.

“Hands-on, then.” Leon cracks a grin, rising to his feet. “I’m all yours.”

Leon is desire painted monochrome.

You nearly throw yourself over the table at the back of the shoot the minute Leon pops up on your monitor. The printer spits out picture after picture that couldn’t be safe for work in your wildest dreams, but here you are, getting paid to take softcore of Calvin Klein’s newest poster boy, and your jaw is about to make friends with the floor.

You didn’t know eyes could talk before Leon Kennedy.

In one shot, he’s gazing at you from the glossed page, bedroom blues sizing you up. He’s daring you. Drag your eyes down the page. Go on.

And oh, if the the journey doesn’t reveal the ridged muscles lining Leon’s stomach as he reaches to shuck the shirt off his shoulders. The stain is a forgotten memory replaced by a new one burned into your brain for the rest of eternity, and you’re not the talking about the cologne. You’re staring at the patterned Calvin Klein waistband of his boxers. Slung dangerously low over his hips, begging to be relieved of their duty, so close you could pull them off with your teeth.

“Any closer and you’re gonna lick the page, doll.”

And mess up his pretty face? You wouldn’t dream of it.

Leon laughs when you go ramrod straight. “Seriously. You did amazing with that shirt-pulling save,” he says. “I know it’s a little intimidating to work with Ingrid and my team, but you handled it like a champ.”

He tugs the photo out from under your fingers, uncapping a nearby pen to scribble something onto its backside. His tongue pokes out when he writes. He’s the cutest Adonis you’ve ever seen when he hands it back. “I knew you could,” he adds.

And then all too soon, just as your own tongue regains feeling, Leon leaves amidst the flurry of post-production. Leaves is the polite way to put it; his agent practically hauls him out by the collar by the time you muster up the courage to wave goodbye.

Really? After everything’s all done?

Well, almost. You flip the photo to read his note.

Pretty eyes, pretty mouth too. Put that second one to use next time? :)

They do say practice makes perfect.

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#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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meyousing · 9 months

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re used to light being distant, so when he decides to lay the affection on heavy and proposes a new idea to you at the same time, you’re helplessly intrigued. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: nsfw, yandere light yagami x reader, idk if this matters to say right off the bat but you’re wearing a skirt :] also mentions of death like always lol but none fr! alsoalso this idea has probably been done to death by now but to be fair I started this A YEAR AGO!! pls enjoy despite that lol ily <3

“What is it?” his eyes sharpened as they narrowed at you from across the room, voice laced with blatant boredom. That was what you told yourself anyway, truly hoping that it was boredom and not annoyance because the look he always gave you at times like this made you cave in on yourself, instantly regretting whatever you had done to be such a bother. All that you were doing now was laying idly on his bed, legs swinging out of habit as you were on your stomach and flipping through a magazine that he had given as a pacifier. Maybe he knew that you were actually keeping your eyes on him this entire time, rather than the sheets before you.

“What do you mean?” playing dumb never worked with Light, but you would always do it anyway. It could provide a delay of the inevitable if nothing else.

You heard the tap of his pen as he dropped it on his desk, followed by the soft thud of his notebook closing before he stood from his chair. A regular notebook, you noticed, thankfully.

“Trying to outsmart me again?”

Right, his interpretation of your playing dumb was much less simple than what you intended to get across. Of course, he knew that you knew better, so your deception was instead seen as defiance; a flaunt of superiority.

“Of course not,” you shut your magazine, sliding it to the side of the bed and cringing when it slid off of the bed, crumpling up in an ironically tense pile on the floor. Surely Light wasn’t too attached to it, as he merely spared it a passing glance before casting his eyes upon you once more. Then he began to approach, making you swallow a newfound lump in your throat as you scampered back to sit up on your haunches.

“Then what is it?” he leaned over you, his hands resting at your sides with your faces inches apart. His breath was slow through his nose, soft and cold as each exhale blew onto the tip of your nose.

How to tell him that the stupid magazine didn’t pacify you at all, that only his attention could soothe you? And how embarrassing it could get if you admitted to the exact type of attention that you needed.

He began leaning closer as your mind raced, thinking of a different possible answer, but then it went entirely blank as he was close enough to brush his lips over yours. Tantalizingly, the gentlest nudge and he only did it once before pulling back slightly, you could have missed it had your brain continued thinking so hard. The sensation nearly made you crumble, a chill shooting down your spine as you inhaled and resisted the urge to wet your now trembling lips, focusing on maintaining your posture. He knew how to break you, you didn’t want him to see it happen this soon.

“Nothing” was all you could say without simply blabbering out every dirty thought plaguing your mind.

“You never stare at me like that for nothing,” he said pointedly, even adding a cheeky but very slight tilt of his head. Had your stare really been so obvious? You truly did try to be subtle. Either way, you found it humorous how he could go from cold with seemingly deadened emotions to a teaser within minutes. Finding it humorous helped you cope with how scary you knew he could be.

With the lightest shove to his chest you could muster alongside a bashful turn of your head, you tried creating some space between yourselves to alleviate the fast beating of your heart.

“Really, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to distract you from your work…” Your hand lingered on his chest after the little push, kneading the material of his shirt idly as you hoped this excuse would suffice. This mannerism alone proved the opposite of your hopes to him.

When the full press of his lips fell upon yours in a genuine kiss this time, you knew that you had failed. Even more so when you subconsciously deepened it with a lean closer, making your grip on his shirt firmer to keep him from moving away. Though it seemed he had no intention of doing so, instead easing you down to lay your back against his mattress, crawling over you as soon as you were horizontal.

This kiss, unlike all of his others which would be quick and half-assed–your lips barely meeting before he was already turning his head away to tend to some other matter–was compassionate. One of his hands found the side of your face and he caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, his other fingers which became entangled in your hair from the placement were massaging your scalp soothingly. The sensation lulled you and had you sinking even deeper into his bed while pulling him along with you, your fingertips meeting at the back of his neck and fiddling with the ends of his hair. While this kiss was unusual, it was not unwelcome.

You didn’t know that there would be a catch to this sudden affection.

You could feel Light smirking against you, his entire aura darkening once he did, so much that you could feel it–and your reaction to such a peculiarity was communicated with a tensing of your shoulders. Upon sensing this, Light was quick to groan and prod his tongue against your bottom lip, which surprised you further and allowed him to invade your mouth. The intimate sound he let out and the way he just seemed so infatuated with you right now had your heart racing.

This moment ended almost as quickly as it started though, he pulled away from you and nudged his nose against yours. You tried not to show your disappointment, but you knew that it must have been obvious when a frown graced your lips.

“I want to try something.”

This could go in any direction. He was always so unpredictable, mood changing on a dime whether it was for better or worse.

“What’s that?” you asked with a small voice, indicative of your anxiety about the unknown. You were already playing right into his hands.

“I want to reward you for being so obedient.”

A reward? Who is this and what has he done with your Light?!

His hand on your cheek rubbed it once more before he lifted himself off of you, steadying himself with hands on your waist as he did. You remained in your place, only watching with your eyes as he leaned over to reach into his desk and a drawer.

The drawer.

You turned your head with a gulp as you watched him retrieve his arm, now holding the dreaded notebook that you had tried to shield yourself from, trying to stay ignorant for the sake of keeping your relationship peaceful with the man you couldn’t help but love.

“So long as your obedience remains the same, you’ll be rewarded. We’re going to test it right now.”

He placed the book by your hand which had fallen to your side once he moved, putting his pen between your loose fingers and adjusting it until it stayed still there without tipping over. Your limbs had frozen, so it was no tough feat for him. You were shocked even further when Light’s expression altered somewhat once he actually took notice of how tense you were. Last you could remember, he couldn’t care less when your discomfort was so obvious.

“It really is going to be rewarding for you. Don’t you trust me?”

He always had to ask you that. How much more obvious could you be about your unequivocal devotion to him, your infinite trust? You’d been by his side all this time, yet he would still ask, nearly daily, most commonly before asking you to do something that you didn’t want to do. As if anyone else would remain with him when finding out his secret, and he still doubted you.

“You know I do.” You murmured, fingers twitching around the cold pen in your grasp.

“Then at least hear me out” he chuckled dryly, not with any sense of legitimate humour. You tried to be subtle as you swallowed the lump in your throat, having heard such an impatient laugh come from him countless times before.

“This won’t be going away any time soon,” he patted the notebook, “and I can tell that you won’t be either. I mean, as long as you keep following along with me, here.” He glimpsed at you differently then, as if his eyes were asking you to challenge that statement.

You only nodded. Light grinned.

“Good.”

His fingers moved to peel open the book, and you glanced away from it as he skimmed past so many pages that were filled from margin to margin with names. The crisp sounds of paper brushing together stopped once he found a blank one.

Your eyes stayed on him, and you could feel some burning bile churn and slosh around in your gut as a little smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes darkened when they met yours.

His free hand, which was out of your line of sight, traced the waistband of your skirt. You flinched slightly in surprise, and Light’s smirk widened as he leaned closer to you.

“Write your name.”

Despite being unmoving already, you froze even further, stiffening like a stone and watching him desperately, trying to detect any hint of jesting in his demand. But the wickedness surrounding Light was unrelenting; he meant what he said.

“What?” you asked quietly, needing to hear it again to really believe that he meant it.

“Start writing your name. Trust me, won’t you?”

“I-I do–”

“I know. So do it.” Light’s tone was more firm now.

You could only hold your breath when your eyes flitted over to your hand, your fingers readjusting the pen as you tried to point it toward the paper. The book itself felt alive, you could sense its unreal gaze–like it was taunting you, mocking and laughing at you, tempting you to write, and calling you a coward if you dared to show any hesitation because it shouldn’t be that hard.

Having been with Light for so long now, you fully understood the notebook’s functionality. Knowing that, would it really be so crazy if you were being a coward about this?

“Any time now, love” Light’s voice became impatient, and when you looked up at him, his kneeling posture was equivalent to being on the edge of his seat. He looked like he could implode had you made it this far and chose to back out now, he was so eager. You’d hate to disappoint him, even if his little pet name for you was clearly insincere.

Your body went cold and numb once you pushed the tip of the pen against the page, watching the smallest droplet of dark ink soak into the lines. Your hand remained stagnant following this, and you spared a short glance up at Light, noting how his eyes were stuck on the pen. You took in a breath, holding it and letting your lungs fill so you’d become a little lightheaded–a little less aware of this horrible reality–before moving further with utmost reluctance to drag the tool, lining the shape of the first letter in your name.

You could hear Light exhaling as you finally did. You couldn’t let out that breath of your own just yet. Maybe your cause of death would be suffocation, then.

Your focus was ripped away from the note in an instant once you felt a cold fingertip trace over your clit from above your panties, making your body jolt as you met eyes with Light. He wasn’t looking at you yet, only doing so once you stopped writing.

“Go on. I’m staying true to my word.” To emphasize this, he pressed down against your clit again, his push firm but gentle–leaving you on the cusp of craving more as the sensation gave you chills, yet also sent heat through your lower half.

So pathetically, that small second of pleasure was enough to incentivize a continuation, and you managed to finish printing that very first letter.

“Good…”

He resumed what he had been doing, gently circling your bud and using the advantage of that added layer from your panties to optimize the friction; encouraging you. You could feel the way that you were starting to get wet, soaking the material and only making such movements smoother for Light.

You paused as the feeling grew slightly more intense, coping, and your pause made Light do the same. You two were playing a little game, it seemed, and you obviously didn’t want it to stop–you had to keep going. You had wanted him minutes before this, after all, and you were finally getting what you craved.

Letter two manifested; your grip on the writing utensil weakened as he pulled your panties aside to touch your skin directly.

You shuddered from the sudden cool air that brushed along your exposed skin, and he dragged some of your slick up from your pussy, using it to make rubbing into your clit that much easier, that much more pleasurable. Your limbs shuddered and you had to breathe out a more vocal huff of air in exasperation, your lungs aching while your muscles tensed in delight from Light’s direct tending to such newfound sensitivity.

You remained paused with your eyes shut firmly as you became accustomed to the bliss that he inflicted. Light, seeming to understand exactly what he was doing to you, was a bit more forgiving now–continuing his ministrations even when you stopped, but not changing his pace or furthering the intensity enough for those feelings to grow, to bring you closer to any type of climax. It still made you moan though; still made your heart skip a beat and made your walls tighten around nothing.

Perhaps you had been successfully swindled into playing with fire because now your mind understood a simple formula; if you wanted more, you had to keep writing. Would he let you come if you wrote your entire name down?

Would you even feel the aftershocks of your release before you died?

The prospect of death hit your lust-fogged mind like a truck, and your eyes shot open–that slowly building knot in your abdomen became a tightrope clenching out of fear rather than anticipation. This was a death note, and you were already on track to penning yourself down within it.

Light could sense your change in stature and returned his gaze to your face once again. His hand slowed, but it was as if he could detect your worry and didn’t want to let you succumb to it–he wanted to keep you within the cusp of pleasure, to keep you malleable and submissive to his desires, not whatever lies your mind was telling you. So he kept touching you.

“You know that you can’t stop now that you’ve started, right?” He looked cocky, like he had you right where he wanted you. And it seemed that he did, because now with such confusion and so many conflicting feelings plaguing you, you weren’t sure about that–could you back out now? Was the damage already done now that your first name was almost down entirely?

Your drying lips parted as if to ask, but you couldn’t find your voice. Light let out a short, dry laugh and nodded his head, his face inches away from yours, like he fucking knew.

“Mhm. You have to keep going, now. You’d better hurry, too. You know that there’s a time limit… don’t you?”

Your lungs were burning and your hips squirmed as he traced his fingers around your core, swirling them within your copious wetness and gently prodding his fingers, hardly getting inside of you, yet you still writhed from the sensitivity of such a precise, close touch.

You shook your head deliriously in delayed response to his words and all Light did was nod his own head toward the book again. Suddenly you were reminded of the pen in your grasp which had now absorbed the growing heat from your palm; hot to the touch.

Noting that apparent time limit, you felt your heart thrumming as it raced and you started writing again. The pace of your fingers scraping the pen back and forth was a little quicker than before, yet you couldn’t shake that lingering hesitance even while knowing that you really should have been rushing. Light hummed as he watched, nonchalantly pushing a finger inside of you as you progressed, which made a whiny sound catch in your throat, and made your back lift slightly off the bed.

Your arm trembled and your chicken scratch ceased again, but Light knew that he had you, because you hurried to carry on with haste once more, and he didn’t bother to stop stroking inside of you anymore. He even slid in another finger following the last time he pulled out, the added thickness made your thighs attempt to close from the new nerve-tingling pleasure that it gave, even despite the way that his body between your legs kept you nice and open for him.

“Please,” you bartered, voice muffled and representative of the state you were in; wholly weak. He grinned and kept going, his body solid in its place on top of you, forcing you to take it even as his skilled fingers overwhelmed you so deliciously. You wanted the end result now–you wanted to come, to feel that sweet release by his hand.

Light initiated this entire thing, he set his rules, and you knew that finishing wouldn’t happen just like that, because it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Please what, Y/N? You already know what you have to do. Don’t play stupid.”

The little jab at the end hurt only a little bit, making your stomach drop, making you feel as stupid as he said–but his fingertips rubbed along and pressed into your sweet spot which made you whimper, and that feeling was all you could focus on now; remedying the sting of the insult with the soothing cradle of his fingers. Oh, how successfully he was able to distract you and change the path of your thoughts once again. You could hardly bring yourself to care about such blatant manipulation, because release was getting closer and closer, and that was all you wanted.

You couldn’t even tell if the pen was pressing into the paper hard enough to leave any writing behind at all; your hand was hardly moving because your eyes remained shut in elation, and you chose to squeeze the pen in your fist as you coped with his touch, but Light just seemed content with the fact that you were resuming any transfer of penmanship at all. He was certainly rewarding you as he promised, keeping his fingers inside of you until his knuckles pushed into the plush of your pussy lips, and they rocked into you so good that you could almost feel that hard pressure in your stomach.

It was starting to become too much–you knew how close you were getting, but you didn’t know if that’s what Light wanted. He liked to be in control of most things in his life, and you were at the very top of that list.

“I-I can’t, I’m gonna–”

A gasp-like mewl left you once you felt a hot, wet stroke against your clit at the same time that Light pushed rather hard against your g-spot, holding his fingers there and making you squirm. Your eyes shot open and you craned your neck off of the mattress to look down, watching as his lips closed around your clit and sucked it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Your entire body shuddered, it was so intense that you had to try and pull away, but he wasn’t having it, using his free hand to pin your hip down and keep you still.

“Light,” you whined, a warning to him that he was pleasing you too well too quickly, you were about to come and you were hardly finished with writing down your first name.

His eye contact only became bolder, he didn’t relent, if anything he was trying to get more out of you; intent on making you come now. He hadn’t instructed you otherwise, so you felt safe enough to finally give in–with a weak, raspy whimper you felt yourself release that buildup of desire, your vision turning into static behind closed lids as your body writhed and churned even while he kept you down, putting himself against you with more force. Your hips rocked into his mouth to ride out every last remnant of your orgasm until you felt no more, the only sound that you could hear was your own heavy breathing and Light’s last few caresses against your audibly sopping wet pussy.

Light moved off of you slowly, and you noted that his eyes were trained on the book rather than your body that now glistened with a light sheen of sweat. Before you could say anything to him (but even then, what could you say?), his eyes scanned over the page and your writing while he nonchalantly wiped your release off of his fingers, onto the material of your skirt.

You followed his line of sight and looked over your work, seeing how scribbled and disastrous it was. You had probably produced better writing back in kindergarten.

Now that your heat had finally been tended to, however; your arousal sated, you blinked a few times, then realized exactly what you were looking at: part of your name, written in the death note.

What about the time limit? Was your first name enough to make it work either way? Your heart began to race and so did your breathing–were these the side effects of the incoming, inevitable heart attack?!

I suppose the cause wasn’t suffocation after all, a fleeting voice said so sarcastically in the back of your head, making you grimace. You propped yourself up on your elbows in a panic and your eyes flew back to Light, who was still skimming over the page with a look of maintained scrutiny. He was so… calm. Were you not about to die? Did he not care?

“That’s a good start,” he murmured, reaching out to trace his index finger (the one that wasn’t just buried in you to the hilt) along the shaky lines that hardly resembled any of the alphabet.

“Wha–” You could only heave the word out since it felt like your heart was beating in your throat, though your body gradually relaxed as Light seemed completely neutral to the situation. The longer that he did nothing, the more time passed, and you realized that… you were still here.

When silence fell completely between both of you, Light looked over with such casualty that you felt like none of what just happened even did.

“If we can get to your last name next time, too, maybe I’ll actually fuck you.” He slid off the bed as he spoke, his tone so normal as if he was just talking to you about the weather, making your jaw drop. He grabbed the book and closed it, walking over to the drawer and taking his sweet time ensuring that it was properly put away.

All you could do was lay there in silent disbelief, watching him with wide eyes while he acted like nothing even happened.

“I’m fine, then?” you asked, your voice firmer and a little louder than normal, more demanding for direct answers. Light glanced over at you and laughed coldly, standing up straight once the drawer was closed once again, his hands on his hips lazily.

“I like that you’re a little dumb, Y/N. It makes things like this more exciting, don’t you think?”

Before you could respond verbally–only able to scoff for now–Light turned to leave the room, murmuring a nearly inaudible “I’ll get some water” before the door closed behind him. His muffled footsteps became more distant as he descended downstairs, isolating you to the top floor.

Helplessly flumping back against the bed, you stared at the ceiling, reliving everything that had just happened in a mental state that you imagined neurosis to feel like. Although, you didn’t have to worry for long… you would get used to it. You understood that this was not going to be the first time something like this would happen, Light was truly only getting started with you.

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #death note #light yagami #death note fanfiction #death note x reader #yagami light #light x reader #light yagami x reader #light yagami smut #light yagami x you #light yagami x y/n #death note x you #i hope this doesn't have any typos lmao i'm sorry if this comeback sux

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